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Sunday, August 18, 2013

Cantaloupe Strawberry Salad with White Wine Lime Dressing


Composed. The word itself even sounds so elegant, so controlled. So poised.

Not surprisingly, these words do not describe me.

I hurt my ankle on the linen closet somehow, That "somehow" sneakily obfuscates the major role I played in my own injury. I do actually know what happened.

I attempted to stuff a pillow on a shelf that quite clearly did not have enough space. The pillow was aware of this, and didn't really want to be there. But I can be ridiculously stubborn, so I carried on with my futile task, resulting in the pillow rebelling by popping open the door on my ankle with surprising force.

Later that day, I made some bacon for Max, keeping a slice for myself to use in a grilled cheese, and used the bacon grease to cook the sandwich. It turned out to be a delicious grilled cheese. But it really was not one of my best ideas. As one can imagine, this sandwich provided some wonderful stomach pains.

To top it all off, something began irritating my left eye, resulting in a red eye that would barely stay open. The irritation also led to some side effects like a runny nose.

By the end of the day, I was a hobbling woman with one eye open, face in a tissue, hunched over from the pain of the grilled cheese.

Composed I am not. Composed people do not stuff grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon and then cook them in bacon grease. Composed people probably eat quinoa and kale salads exclusively. Composed people do not fight pillows to stay in closets. Composed people probably have special closets dedicated solely to storing pillows. Composed people do not allow eye irritations to occur.

Since I am not elegant, or poised, or composed, I attempted to live vicariously through produce. Some cantaloupe, strawberries, macadamia nuts, slices of Parmesan cheese, and basil leaves arranged "artfully" (a term I use very very very very loosely, by the way) on the plate, drizzled with a lime and white wine dressing and sprinkled with just a bit of freshly ground black pepper. This salad is everything I am not. The self I wish I could be.

Melons, all juicy and round and fragrant are just so much fun to eat! Here, Cooking Light has a super informative slideshow about how to best pick out melons and recipes to use them in! So check it out!


Ingredients
shaved slices from cantaloupe wedge
sliced strawberries
roasted and salted macadamia nuts, halved
shaved Parmesan slices
basil leaves
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon lime juice
1/4 teaspoon lime zest
1 tablespoon dry white wine
freshly ground black pepper

Instructions
Arrange the cantaloupe, strawberries, macadamia nuts, Parmesan, and basil leaves on a plate.  Whisk the olive oil, lime juice, lime zest, and white wine together.  Drizzle desired amount of the dressing over the salad.  Sprinkle the salad with black pepper.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

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.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

You Will Be My Son Film Review



Sex, greed, perfume, family psychodrama, expensive shoes, murder and wine. Let's just say You Will Be My Son has everything you'd expect from a French film including some very emotional outbursts. It's a bit of a soap opera but the acting is outstanding and the setting during harvest at a vineyard in Saint Emilion is stunning. 

I tend to enjoy films with a food or wine backdrop, and this is no exception. It's a very intriguing story with lots of plot twists, secrets and lies. It's a family story, but has elements of a thriller too. The lead actor Niels Aretrup is compelling as the father, a truly malevolent character, but the two childhood friends and rivals played by Nicolas Bridet and Patrick Chesnais are also excellent as are the rest of the supporting actors. 

The people of Bordeaux have a reputation for being a bit snobby, and the sense of place in society is a major theme in this film. Despite being set in contemporary times, it has the feel of a classic drama, with thorny ethical issues when love, passion and a desire for greatness collide. The film opens in select theaters August 16th, 2013. 

Monday, August 12, 2013

Sea Urchin Spaghetti Recipe

Sea urchin or uni is rich and creamy. It tastes very briny and yet sweet. Emulsified with some extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice, it makes a wonderful sauce for pasta. The type of pasta you use is up to you of course, but isn't it gorgeous on squid ink pasta? I love the look and flavor of squid ink pasta. It's such a treat! I got mine from Mattarello, a fresh pasta company run by John Pauley and his wife Anna.

I was a fan of John's pasta back when he was still cooking at Rex Cafe around the corner from my house. Now he sells his pasta at pop ups, generally at either Gourmet and More on Franklin or Biondivino wine shop on Green Street. His squid ink pasta is so good you can enjoy it with just a simple olive oil, garlic and white wine sauce with a little bit of chili flakes or parsley. He also sells lasagna, tortellini and some different shapes and styles of pasta, all made by hand.

This pasta is really a showstopper. I'd recommend serving it for a special occasion or dinner party. I adapted the recipe from one by Sara Jenkins I found in La Cucina Italiana, "spaghetti ai ricci di mare" but I simplified it a bit and didn't use any garlic.

Note: Another option is to make the sauce and top the pasta with another type of seafood instead of just more sea urchin. It's delicious with sautéed scallops or shrimp.


Sea Urchin Spaghetti
Serves 4 as a starter or 2 as a main course

Ingredients

About 4 ounces fresh sea urchin, divided
2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 pound fresh pasta preferably squid ink spaghetti
2 Tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 Tablespoon finely chopped chives

Instructions

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Combine 2 1/2  ounces sea urchin and lemon juice in the blender, purée until smooth. With blender running, add oil in a slow and steady stream until you have a thick emulsified sauce, the texture of mayonnaise. Transfer the sauce and parsley to a large bowl.

Cook pasta until just al dente. Drain and place in the bowl with sauce and parsley, and toss together. Let pasta sit just until it absorbs some of the sauce, about 1 minute, then season with salt to taste. Portion pasta onto serving plates. Top with remaining uni and garnish with chives.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: My thanks to Whole Foods for providing a sample of sea urchin for this recipe. 

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Smoky Tomato Soup


Life, with some exceptions, has a rhythm. A regularity, a predictability to give the amorphous concept some structure.

Since toddler soccer began, Tuesdays can be counted on to involve a conversation like the following:

Upon arrival of the park to play soccer,
Max: "bye bye"
me: "bye bye what?"
Max: "bye bye ball"
me: "you don't want to play soccer?"
Max: "nooooooo. trains (referring to the multiple playground pieces of equipment that are shaped like trains)"


I know what you are thinking, "If this is a common occurrence why do I continue to bring him to soccer?" I can't, and don't, force him to play.  But I have to at least give him the chance to play because the class has already been paid for, and he will sometimes play happily for like 4 minutes. I don't want to sound like I'm some sort of psychotic parent demanding athletic skills to be proficiently demonstrated by a toddler aged child.  I have no athletic ability to speak of myself!   He may not like going to soccer, but he loves going to that park for the playground equipment.  He already knows that is where the best toys are located in town.

And just like the regularity of this conversation with my child (I am most definitely looking forward to the end of the class, where we no longer have to engage in the charade of attending it), my love of smoked paprika flares up. And I am compelled to make things taste smoky.

I feel like an evangelist for the stuff, even becoming some sort of smoked paprika fairy godmother and gifting it to others in hopes that they too will see the light of smoked paprika. In addition to introducing my container of smoked paprika to new people, I love introducing it to new ingredients as well. Like eggs. And eggs (okay, I guess that isn't really new, but the richness of eggs just goes so amazingly well with smoked paprika). And cauliflower. And jalapenos. Just to name a few.

And now, my penchant for putting smoked paprika on things took the form of big, juicy heirloom tomatoes. Tomatoes that were roasted with garlic and jalapenos, sprinkled with spices like earthy cumin and fruity ground pasilla peppers, and, you guessed it, smoked paprika, and then blended into soup.  I should note that we enjoyed this with a grilled cheese of cheddar and smoked gouda.  A predictable accompaniment for such a soup.

Ingredients
3 large heirloom tomatoes, chopped into wedges
handful of cherry tomatoes, halved
2 jalapenos, halved (or to taste)
5 garlic cloves, peeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3/4 teaspoon liquid smoke
3/4 teaspoon ground pasilla
1/4 teaspoon ancho chile powder
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon smoked salt
1/8 teaspoon ground sumac
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons half and half
smoked salt, to taste
freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Instructions
Heat oven to 400 degrees.  In a large bowl, mix the tomato wedges and hales, jalapeno, and garlic.  In a small bowl, whisk the olive oil, lemon juice, and liquid smoke.  Drizzle over the tomato mixture.  Toss gently to coat. In another small bowl, whisk together the pasilla, , ancho chile, coriander, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and sumac.  Sprinkle over tomato mixture. Toss gently to coat.  Pour into 9 x 13 pan, and place in oven for 30-40 minutes.

Once roasted, remove the tomatoes, jalapenos, and garlic, as well as about half of the cooking liquid left in the pan and place in a pot.  Blend with an immersion blender.  Add more of the cooking liquid, if needed, to get desired consistency. Place over medium-low heat and stir in the butter and half-half.  Adjust salt and pepper to taste.  Once soup is warm, take off heat.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Corn, Scallion and Cotija Dumplings in a Coconut Corn Broth


There are nights, as we make our way upstairs to bed, that I am overcome with tiredness. A tiredness that makes each step incredibly difficult to take.

Okay, every night I'm tired.  I'm not exactly known as one of those full of energy types.

There are times when I fall asleep within a few minutes of getting into that beautiful, amazing place known as bed.

Other nights, however, my brain does the opposite of shutting off.  I become incredibly awake. Happy and awake.

So when this occurs, I enjoy "demonstrating my awakeness," a phrase coined by Seth.  Perhaps by engaging in one or more of the following.
-Initiating vigorous, contentious conversation
-Using a cheerful, loud voice
-Continuing conversations that were previously over
-Asking a million questions
-Discussing the episode of television we are watching
-Snorting in his face
-Walking to the other side of the bed, getting in his face, and saying hi

After numerous "demonstrations" and a subsequent reprimand to go to sleep, I usually decide to read.  But there are times when I put this silent, private awake time to good use.  And think about food.  Glorious, glorious food.

Like, for instance, some dumplings.  Dumplings stuffed with lime-scented cotija, corn, scallions, and jalapeno.  Dumplings coated in a coconut milk and corn broth, infused with the flavors of ginger and garlic and lime. "Demonstrating my awakeness" might not always lead to my desired outcome (Seth joining me in my awakeness), but at least some good can come of it.

Ingredients
For the corn stock:
husk of 5 corns
1/2 teaspoon peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds
small red onion, halved
water
pinch salt

For the corn:
4 ears of corn, husked

For the coconut and corn broth:
5 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons grated ginger
extra virgin olive oil
1 cup corn broth
1 cup coconut milk
zest and juice of 1 small lime
1/2 teaspoon fish sauce
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
kosher salt, to taste
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1/2 cup fresh basil, chiffonade
sprinkle more cotija for serving

For the corn scallion dumplings:
the cooked kernels from 4 ears of corn
1/2 teaspoon lime zest
1 tablespoon lime juice
2 chopped scallions
1/4 cup cotija cheese, crumbled
1 minced jalapeno
black pepper
1 package wonton wrappers (I made about 40 dumplings)

Instructions
To make the corn stock:
Place everything in a large pot and cover with water.  Cover with lid, set over medium heat.  Simmer for 1-2 hours.  Strain.

To make the corn:
Cook the corn using your preferred method.  I just stuck them in a 400 degree oven and let them roast for about 15 minutes.

To make the coconut and corn broth:
Heat some oil in a saute pan on low.  Add the garlic and ginger and saute for about a minute, until fragrant. Pour in 1 cup of the corn stock, coconut milk, lime juice and zest, fish sauce, and coriander.  Simmer for just a few minutes.  Adjust salt and pepper to taste.  Finish with a sprinkling of fresh basil and cotija cheese.

To make the corn scallion dumplings:
Place the cooked corn kernels, lime juice, lime zest, scallions, cotija, jalapeno and black pepper in a bowl. Toss together.  Take a wonton wrapper and place in the palm of your hand. Place ½ tablespoon of the corn scallion mixture in the middle. Dab water around two adjacent sides of the wrapper, then bring up the other two sides of the wrapper to form a triangle.  Bring a large pot of water to boil.  Add 4-5 dumplings and cook (about 1-3 minutes).  Remove the cooked dumplings and repeat. Serve with broth.