Tomato, Brown Butter, Ricotta Pasta with Zucchini and Roasted Garlic

I know that as an adult human being who lives in this thing we call society, I should share.  I should want to share.  And this desire is one I should be attempting to cultivate in my offspring.  Perhaps by modeling such behavior myself.

But this is easier said than done.

We have our favorite brunch spot.  Rustic servingware, with mason jars as far as the eye can see.  Pomegranate mimosas. Delicious food offerings. Friendly servers.  And best of all, a location on a rail line.  Which means Max can eagerly anticipate the passing of a train.  It feels like the most perfect of morning dining spots in the entire world for us.

Despite our love for this establishment, there is a reticence in sharing this location with others.  I don't want to sully its amazingness with a bad memory.  With someone who won't appreciate all it has to offer.  Or what if they now think it is their spot, when we were the ones who found it first?  Is it really such an awful thing to have a secret spot?  Am I a supremely selfish human being?

I suppose I have a guilty conscience about this.  To assuage my guilt just a bit, I am sharing a pasta dish with one of man's most wonderful substances - brown butter.  A tomato sauce with roasted zucchini slices, roasted garlic, browned butter, and ricotta cheese.

I suppose I do have the ability to share.  But only when I want to.

Ingredients
2 medium zucchini, sliced on mandolin
pasta of choice (pictured above: penne)
extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground pepper

1 head garlic
extra virgin olive oil

6 tablespoons unsalted butter
28 ounce can crushed tomatoes
1 small onion, halved
1/3 cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup basil leaves, torn

Instructions
To make the zucchini:  Heat oven to 400.  Place zucchini slices in a 9 x 13 pan, drizzle with oil, salt, and pepper, and roast for about 20 minutes until all brown and melty.

To make the roasted 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 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 make the sauce:  In a large sauté pan, melt butter over medium-low heat. Let the butter brown, about 5-7 minutes. You will see brown specks that have formed on the bottom of the pan. Be careful to not burn the butter, otherwise the taste will be altered. Add in the roasted zucchini slices and roasted cloves of garlic. Mix those into the browned butter. Stir in crushed tomatoes. Add onion halves. Let the mixture come together over low heat for about 40 minutes. Once the onion halves are soft, remove from the sauce. Add cheeses. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle with basil.

Serve with pasta (I used penne) cooked according to manufacturer's directions.

Watermelon, Lime, Cotija and Basil Salad

My pastimes include making loud, obnoxious noises.  Like beast noises.  Seth just yells "beast" when I get on a roll.  He occasionally makes a remark about me needing to stop being so beasty, but we all know that he secretly loves the absurd soundscapes I create.

Possible reasons these ridiculous sounds include:
-my way of filling up the space with my essence even when I have nothing to say
-my subconscious is creating performance art
-I just love the freedom in making primal, beastial sounds for no apparent reason
-I enjoy the contrast of making loud beast noises while wearing a dress
-I relish in Seth's annoyance
-all of the above
-none of the above

On Netflix, we see this documentary called "Thunderbeast" popping up in recommendations.  At first it was a joke, like, "Haha, look, Netflix even knows that I'm a beast, maybe I'm even in the movie."

Then Thunderbeast became a fixture.  Always sitting there as a recommended title to watch.  So eventually I was like, huh, what is Thunderbeast even about? Oh buffaloes/bison?, I don't actually know anything about this animal.  Maybe I should learn something.

So it was played.  But between Max, and okay, lets face it, Max, the documentary never got my full attention.  But I was interested.  Thunderbeast is an oddly compelling animal.

Thunderbeast was played again. And again.  Like ten more times.  I still haven't finished it.  I'm sure the NSA is wondering why someone would keep playing this documentary over and over and over again.  Especially when the person supposedly watching it still knows nothing about the animal except that the buffaloes were quite mean to a  lost fawn and left her to some wolves.  And that they have a keen sense of smell.

One of these days I will finally finish it.

Until then, I have a salad.  Pink watermelon chunks sprinkled with basil, cotija cheese, lime juice, and lime zest..  So bright and loud and refreshing.  Just like the noises I create.

Ingredients
watermelon chunks
cotija cheese
lime juice
lime zest
basil

Instructions
Just toss some watermelon chunks with torn basil leaves.  Sprinkle with a bit of cotija cheese and lime zest.  Finish with a drizzle of lime juice.

Perfect Rhubarb Compote Recipe

There are rhubarb haters and rhubarb lovers. I'm a lover! I love the color of rhubarb and the gorgeous pink syrup you get when you cook it. Rhubarb, which we consider a fruit is actually a vegetable. It's high in vitamin C, potassium, fiber and the phytochemical lindleyin. While green rhubarb isn't as pretty as red rhubarb, it's just as delicious. Juicy, sweet and sour rhubarb compote is quick and easy to make and perfect for breakfast or dessert.

The challenge with rhubarb is cooking it. It goes from crunchy and hard to mushy goo in no time. I've tried cooking it many different ways--steaming it, boiling it, and roasting it and finally settled on this recipe which manages to cook it through and yet allows it to maintain it's shape and texture. I rarely use the word "perfect" in recipes, but this one really is. I got the basic recipe from my parents who got it from a friend, who got it from her mother.  I put my own spin on it by adding a slivered vanilla bean. You don't need to scrape the seeds out of the bean, but you can if you want. 

Once you've made rhubarb compote, you can serve it any way you like. I like it with fresh berries. I know there are lots of recipes for strawberry and rhubarb compote, but I think strawberries and raspberries taste better raw, both combine beautifully with cooked rhubarb. Serve it over Greek yogurt or ice cream for a scrumptious dessert. 

Perfect Rhubarb Compote

Ingredients

1 pound rhubarb

1 vanilla bean

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

Fresh strawberries and raspberries, optional

Instructions

Wash and trim the ends of the rhubarb then cut it into 1/2 - 1 inch pieces. Cut the vanilla bean lengthwise into 4 slivers and cut each in half to make 8 pieces.  Place the vanilla bean, sugar and water in a large saucepan and add the rhubarb. Bring to a boil and cook for 2 -3 minutes, gently stirring to make sure all pieces are bathed in syrup. Remove from the heat and allow to come to room temperature then serve or refrigerate. Serve with berries or as desired, removing any vanilla bean slivers.  

Enjoy! 

A Plum Sandwich, with Prosciutto, Provolone, Arugula, and Sage

There is nothing like ever so carefully building up the foundation of a lovely day in your head... and then having it all come crashing down.

Okay, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration.  But not by much (I can be extremely melodramatic).

I thought I was going to have a nice Saturday with the tot.  It was a gorgeous day, and Seth was at work, so I figured I would put on my fun-mom hat (okay, more like a slightly embarrassing sun hat) and go to the beach - play in the sand, prance around in the water, then grab some food in the harbor and watch some boats sail on by.

We arrived at the beach.  Within 2 minutes, Max was found throwing sand.  Totally not allowed. A thing he has been banned from doing.  I'm not really sure why sand looks so appealing to throw, as opposed to say, scooping into funnel shaped toys that have wheels that spin when sand is dumped into them.  But I digress.

So I gave him a warning.  If you throw the sand again, we are leaving.  His response was a gleeful "go bye-bye."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes and wonder how he could possibly be okay with leaving the beach.  Why wouldn't someone want to play here for awhile?

I got us away from the ever-so-temping sand and into the water.  We frolicked and splashed in the water for about 20 minutes.  Then we got out of the water.

As soon as we got back to our towels, the sand throwing began anew.  Another warning was given, and subsequently ignored.  And thus we left the beach after all of 30 minutes. And out of those 30, about 1/5 were taken up with admonishments.

So we trekked home, no longer stopping for lunch.  And as we made our way home, I called Seth to complain, pointing out that none of the other kids were throwing sand.  He tried to comfort me by offering up the explanation that the other sand-throwing kids were already taken home.

So once we got home, I needed food.  Something comforting.  Something interesting.  Something that would make up for the shattering of my Saturday plans. Something that would help assuage my fears that my offspring will forever be the annoying kid throwing sand.

Sometimes our best laid plans are thwarted by toddlers.  And I suppose when life gives you lemons you are supposed to make lemonade.  I didn't make lemonade.  But I made a grilled cheese stuffed with things like provolone, prosciutto, arugula, sage, plums, and a lemony spread.  I guess there are worse things in life than having a Saturday turn into a warm crispy sandwich.

For more information about one of my very favorite fruits, the plum, check out this slideshow from Cooking Light! Sooooo many varieties of plums that I need to try!

Ingredients
2 slices sourdough bread
2 slices thinly sliced prosciutto
1 slice provolone
4-6 sage leaves
1 plum, sliced
handful arugula leaves
drizzle of olive oil
lemon wedge
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
canola oil, for cooking

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons Greek yogurt
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon lemon zest
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions
Mix mayonnaise, yogurt, mustard, lemon juice, lemon zest, and sumac in bowl.  Adjust salt and pepper to taste.  Refrigerate.

On slice of bread, make a bed of arugula leaves.  Drizzle with just a bit of olive oil and lemon juice, and sprinkle salt and pepper.  Next add the prosciutto, then the provolone, the sage leaves, the slices of plum, then, finally, the desired amount of the sauce.  Heat some oil in cast iron skillet or other frying pan.  Add sandwich, brown on one side (about 2-3 minutes).  Flip, and brown on the other.

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.

Fettucine with Citrus and Tons of Fresh Herbs

There are two sides to grilling. One is done in front of the grill – the part where someone lights the charcoals and actually cooks food over flames. The part where one determines the “done-ness” of things while basking in the charcoal-laden fumes.

The other part of grilling is done behind the scenes. The prep work – cutting vegetables, marinating, creating sauces, doing dishes – the less glamorous stuff.

Seth performs the first set of tasks. I do the second set.

In a similar creation of (possibly false) binaries, some dishes are meant to be oohed and aahed over.  To stand in the limelight, garnering accolades and affection from admirers.  Like food that is served on a stick.  Or a big, meaty burger.

These noodles are not one of those dramatic dishes.

Instead, they play a supporting role in our grilling adventures.  I'm not sure why we only make it when grilling.  But just like the blue of the sky and the green of the grass, that's just how things are.

Perhaps my admiration for these noodles comes less from a gastronomical place and more of an emotional one.

The noodles are flavorful - brimming with fresh herbs and citrus, but it isn't hard to put together in between prepping the dishes to be made on the grill.

It might not be the main event, but it serves as a consistently good counterpoint to the grilled, meaty things.  And despite its lack of dramatic flair, I always find myself going back for more.

Ingredients
1 pound fettuccine
1 cup chopped parsley
2 cups chopped basil
4 chopped scallions
2 cups arugula
1/4 cup snipped chives
salt and pepper, to taste
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup olive oil
1/3 cup fresh citrus juice  (I like using a mixture of lemons and limes)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
pinch cayenne
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Instructions
In a large pot of salted water, make fettuccine according to package directions.

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, toss parsley, basil, scallions, arugula, and chives.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Mix together butter, olive oil, citrus juice, kosher salt, cayenne, and garlic clove.

Once the fettuccine has cooked, toss with the herb mixture.  Drizzle with the olive oil and citrus juice dressing.   Sprinkle Parmesan cheese and black pepper.  Toss to coat.

Krug Collection 1989 Champagne--Wine on Friday

"You've never had good Champagne." That was response I gave to someone who told me they didn't like Champagne. Because there's a big difference between low end sparkling wine and decent sparkling wine and Champagne. Sure enough, once he had a glass of lovely Nicholas Feuillatte bubbly he changed his mind. Typically I can find good Champagne and sparkling wines in the $30 - 50 range, retail. But this is not about good sparkling wines or Champagne, this is about outstanding Champagne, namely Krug. 

At a recent tasting and lunch hosted by Krug, I got a chance to try various offerings including their non-vintage Grand Cuvee and their lovely Rosé, but there was one Champagne that really stood apart from the rest and that was the Krug Collection 1989. It has haunted me ever since. If you read reviews of this Champagne here are some of the flavors that are used to describe it:

cardamom, tea rose, freshly ground coffee, honeycomb, kumquat, oyster shell, dried apricot, chalk, truffle, brioche, spice, tropical fruit, honey, white fruits, slightly browned apples, high-toned flowers, yeast, nuttiness, pear, green apple, citrus fruit marmalade, fresh figs, mineral 

I would say yes, it's all in there and somehow even more. It's extremely rich and yet still bright and vibrant and has a finish that lasts and lasts and then lingers for weeks in your mind. Like a great film, it's easy to get lost in this Champagne, each flavor like each scene, leading to the next and taking you somewhere else. 

I tend to favor smaller grower producers over the big houses because the big Champagne houses strive for consistency which can eventually be a bit boring. Krug may be an important Champagne house, but it's still fairly small and it seeks to create excellent Champagne every time, not just consistently good Champagne. Much care and consideration goes into tasting from every single plot. 

Personally speaking, I want a Champagne to thrill me, with the unexpected as well as the familiar. I want technicolor and 3D and surround sound, and believe me, Krug Collection 1989 delivers. At $549 a bottle, the experience was bittersweet, because I have no idea when I shall be able to experience this epic adventure in a glass again…

Disclaimer: I was a guest at a tasting and lunch hosted by Krug, I was not paid to write this or any other post.