Goodbye To All That

I am very clearly my father’s daughter. I’m my mother’s daughter, too, in a lot of ways, but if you ever see me and my dad next to each other, you’ll know exactly where I came from. Along with some obvious physical characteristics, I inherited an almost pathological love of cheese and a pretty serious cholesterol problem. (Love you, Dad!)

I’ve been ignoring my genetics for a little too long, or so my doctor informed me at my last check-up. But I’m solidly in my 30s now and have to face the proverbial music. What this means for the kitchen is that I can no longer rely on the formula of veggies + eggs = dinner. That is going to be the challenge for the year. Eggs are a good source of protein, they keep in the fridge for quite a while, and they cook up very quickly. That last point is especially useful when one arrives home from an evening at the dojo with low blood sugar and about 20 minutes to go until stomach implosion. But eggs, like cheese, butter, ice cream, and shellfish, have to feature a lot less in my meals going forward. Sigh.

Moving on.

Luckily for me, I enjoy eating vegetables (as you might have figured out by now). I don’t believe in veganism as a permanent way of life, but I do often wind up eating meals that include no animal products. This time, it was on purpose (the day after getting the results of my blood work).

Start with a big sweet potato and a bunch of asparagus, and maybe some garlic and ginger.

(The onion is a red herring.)

Oh, except really, you start with some couscous. Put a cup or so of dried couscous in a heatproof bowl, and stir in a little olive oil, salt, and chopped scallion. Boil a kettle of water and pour it over everything. Stick a plate on top of the bowl and then go about your business with the rest of the meal.

Now back to the veggies. Grate the sweet potato coarsely. Heat some peanut oil in a big skillet and stir fry with some ginger, garlic, and salt until it starts to get tender. You don’t want to overcook it, because it will get all mushy and then the texture won’t contrast with the couscous.

When the sweet potatoes have reached that sort of al dente stage, add in the asparagus, chopped into bite-sized pieces.

Stick a lid on the skillet to steam the asparagus, but again, watch the timing. Overcooked asparagus can be tragic.

Once the veggies are cooked to your liking, plate everything up. Big scoop of couscous (note that traditionally, couscous is served with a fork), couple big scoops of veg, and a few spoonfuls of harissa, or Tabasco, or sriracha, or vinaigrette…

This is a really fast dinner. Grating is a good technique to remember for root vegetables when you don’t have an hour to spare before you risk collapsing from hunger on the kitchen floor.

 

Sweet Potato and Asparagus Couscous

serves 3-4

1 cup couscous

1 Tbsp olive oil

2-3 scallions, finely chopped

1 large sweet potato

1 lb. asparagus, trimmed & cut into bite-sized pieces

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled & grated

2 cloves garlic, minced

1-2 Tbsp peanut oil

salt

Toppings: harissa; sriracha; Tabasco; etc.

 

Boil a kettle of water. Mix up the couscous with the olive oil, chopped scallions, and 1/2 tsp salt in a heatproof bowl. Pour about 1 1/2 cups of boiling water into the bowl, stir it up, and put a plate on top of it.

Heat the peanut oil over medium-high heat in a large skillet. Grate the sweet potato and add it to the pan with the ginger, garlic, and a little salt. Stir fry for a few minutes, until the potato is starting to soften. Add the asparagus pieces, stir, and put a lid on the pan until everything is just tender.

Scoop some of the couscous into a bowl, and put some of the cooked vegetables on top of it. Dress it with the sauce of your choice.

Labor of Love

Last weekend–or two weekends ago, by now–was the first night of Cook Club. As I mentioned in a previous post, M., L., P., and I have started this club, and I was the first to host.  And I just have to say, I have never prepared a meal quite like that before, and I’m not likely to do it again anytime soon.  Even when it’s my turn to host again, I don’t think 6+ courses for 8 people is going to happen.  After Sunday, I needed about 2 days to recover before my brain came back online.

But the truth is that I loved every moment of it, from the trips to the greenmarket, to waiting while the fishmonger gutted & scaled my red snapper, testing the cheese, wrapping each asparagus spear–it was an utter joy.  A labor of love, as the expression goes.  In part, it was love for my friends, my delightful dinner companions, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it was more for the love of food, the kitchen, the cooking process.  Or maybe it’s really the intersection, playing hostess, because that’s where I get to enjoy my food with my dear friends.  And nothing makes me happier than that.

I’ve done an overview of the menu already, but here are the highlights, in living color (not a terribly thorough documentation, I’m afraid, since we all got a little too caught up in the eating to remember to photograph the dessert course…).

Olives with almonds, blood oranges, dried red peppers, and thyme (Tyler Florence’s recipe), ready to go in the oven:

The table set with hors d’oeuvres (the olives, plus Smitten Kitchen’s cheese straws, and grilled asparagus wrapped in prosciutto or truffled cheese with pear mostarda):

 

Cucumber avocado soup with lime:

Ready to serve the soup course:

Spinach salad with pine nuts, golden raisins, and blood orange vinaigrette:

One of the two red snappers I cooked:

Same, after being stuffed with blood oranges, shallots, and herbs, crusted with salt & egg white and baked for a half hour or so:

And this is what was inside when we cracked open the crust:

Me, trying to portion out the tasty filets without butchering the fish too badly:

And here you can see not only both fish (one still crusted) but the potato ramp gratin in the background:

(There are loads more photos of the whole fish process at my flickr feed, courtesy of M., who served as my staff photographer for most of the night.)

And this, sadly, is the only evidence of the rhubarb tart.  The vanilla pink peppercorn ice cream went too quickly to show up on camera at all.

I think, though, that it is likely I will make the ice cream again.  The tart was good, for sure, but there is only so much time left in the rhubarb season, and if I’m going to make something else, I’ll want to try another recipe.

And so, almost 5 hours later, we declared Cook Club a success, and called our first meeting to a close.
And C. was a darling and broke the rules by doing almost all the dishes for me.  We’ve figured out the date for the next round (last weekend of June), and I for one can’t wait.  Playing hostess is the best, but being a guest can be pretty damn awesome, too.