Yes, we have no okra today

I feel like I’ve been jerked around a little this week, and it’s only Tuesday.  Originally, we were told on Friday that we’d be getting edamame, which I love, but which is not really useful for dinner purposes. Soy beans are like cherry tomatoes, in that they are a great snack, but not really worth the effort to use in a proper recipe. 

Then, we were told Sunday afternoon that the edamame wasn’t quite ready, and we’d be getting peppers and okra (!) instead.  I’ve never cooked with okra, but I had a dear friend coming over for dinner who is a proper southern lady, and I figured that would be a wonderful opportunity to have my maiden voyage.  I found the perfect (though not remotely southern) recipe, from Yotam Ottolenghi’s New Vegetarian blog on the Guardian, for okra with tomato, lemon, and coriander. And I was really excited about it. I have half a dozen of his recipes flagged in my google reader as “to make,” and have yet to take a crack at any of them, in spite of Moody Food’s hearty endorsement of everything Ottolenghi.

And THEN. And then. The okra was not there. Non é arrivato.  Or if it did arrive, it was gone by the time I got to Lenox Hill (it was a “take it if you like” one, not an alotted amount).  But let it not be said that I cannot pivot on a dime when dinner is at stake.  I pouted, for sure, and made a small fuss (I am a youngest child and certain behaviors are expected of me), and then I remembered that I still had nearly a pound of green beans in the fridge from last week.  Okra is a seed pod; green beans are pods.  I don’t always need to rely on The Cook’s Thesaurus to rescue a recipe. 

I made a few other modifications to the recipe, but not many.  I used a dried, hot chili instead of a fresh mild one, and green (sweet) peppers instead of red.  I did manage to find preserved lemon, though (thwarted by Whole Foods, but Kalustyan’s had my back).  I think this recipe proves the axiom that the key to improvisational cooking is having a well-stocked kitchen.  And a CSA is infinitely helpful in that respect.  Also ready access to specialty markets…

Thus, we start with a pile of fresh vegetables and herbs, dried spices, a few preserved items, and some bulgur.

The onion gets sliced into thin half-moons and cooked over medium heat, in olive oil, with the coriander seeds, until soft but not brown.

Then, in go the sweet peppers, the chile, the parsley and some of the cilantro. Let it cook a bit before adding the tomatoes, paprika, salt, agave nectar (or sugar), and some water. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. 

Meanwhile (my friend C. says any recipe that includes the word “meanwhile” is just not going to happen in her kitchen, but somehow I don’t find it to be a turn off. What else am I going to do while that pot simmers?), the green beans get tossed in a little olive oil and salt and roasted at 400F for 15 minutes. When they’re ready, add them into the pot, with the preserved lemon, the olives, and a bit more of the cilantro.

Stir it up, taste for seasoning, and then finish off with fresh lemon juice, the last of the cilantro, and the chopped mint leaves.  Serve over bulgur, which I cooked in vegetable broth, though water works just as well. Also note that if you are an informal household, the pitting of the olives is not necessary; just be sure to put a little bowl on the table so you and your guest can put the pits somewhere as you eat them.

Ottolenghi-style Green Beans with Tomatoes, Olives, and Lemon
Serves 3, though could be stretched if you don’t completely forget you were also going to make a green salad with pomegranate molasses dressing

4 Tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 bell peppers (or other sweet peppers), cut into smallish bites
1 dried red chile, chopped or ripped into pieces
1/3 c flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2 1/2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped
1 lb tomatoes, chopped
1 tsp paprika
1 1/2 tsp agave nectar (or 2 tsp sugar)
Salt
3/4 lb green beans, trimmed
3 Tbsp diced skin of preserved lemon
30 oil-cured black olives, pitted and chopped

1 1/2 Tbsp lemon juice
1 Tbsp mint leaves, chopped

1 cup bulgur

Put on a kettle of water, or a pot of the broth of your choice. Rinse the bulgur in a strainer and put it in a heat-proof bowl. When the water/broth comes to a boil, measure out 2 cups and pour it on top. Cover with a plate and let sit until the rest of the meal is ready.
Heat 2 Tbsp of olive oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onion and coriander and cook, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes.
Set the oven to 400F. Toss the green beans with the other 2 Tbsp of oil, and a little salt. Spread them on a baking sheet and bake 15 minutes.
While that’s cooking, add to the pot the fresh & dried peppers, parsley, and 1 Tbsp of cilantro. Stir and let cook another 5 minutes.
Then add the tomatoes, paprika, salt, sugar, and a cup of water. Cover and simmer 15 minutes.
When the green beans are ready, add them to the pot with the preserved lemon, the olives, and another 1 Tbsp of cilantro. Stir and taste for salt.
Turn off the heat, squeeze in the lemon juice, and garnish with the last of the cilantro and the fresh mint.
Serve over bulgur (which might need to be strained). Some crusty bread goes well with this dish, too.

Getting My Stride Back

And it was summer. Warm, beautiful summer.

Well, not officially yet. And actually today is kind of cool. But to my mind, the start of my CSA deliveries means the start of summer, and it was so horrifically hot all last week that you’d have been forgiven for thinking you’d dozed off and slept straight through to August. I was almost nostalgic for the endless rainy spring that was last June. Almost.

In any case, the sticky, humid, feel-like-you’re-inside-a-dog’s-mouth weather has put me in the mood for light summer fare, even now that it’s cool and breezy (and very nearly chilly today).  So last night I took stock of my fridge and this is what I came up with, inspired by the Strawberry-Arugula Salad with Ricotta Topping recipe from The Kitchn (Apartment Therapy’s food-centric blog).

I didn’t think arugula and strawberries alone constituted dinner, but it seemed like they might go well with some orzo. And I like almonds, but I don’t always like that super-crunchy texture in something like this, so I went with walnuts instead. And made the crucial addition of some ground pink peppercorns (especially crucial because I didn’t grate enough nutmeg).

So first, you put on a pot of water to boil for the pasta. Then mix some lemon juice and zest with the ricotta.

And some more lemon zest with the strawberries, chopped nuts, a little salt, and the nutmeg & pepper. (White pepper would probably be good, too. I wouldn’t do black, personally, but that’s me.)

Then, once the pasta is cooked (in heavily salted water–Batali’s not kidding when he says it should be as salty as the Mediterranean), scoop out a cup or so of the pasta water and then drain.  Mix as much of the water into the ricotta as you like (I think I used 1/3 cup for what was maybe 1 1/3 cup of ricotta) and then toss everything together.

Before tossing:

And after:

Orzo with arugula, strawberries, and ricotta
Serves 4, ish

1 lb. orzo
1 pint strawberries
1 bunch arugula (~3 oz.)
1 cup ricotta (I had a bit more on hand, so I just finished it off)
1/4 cup walnuts, toasted (I didn’t bother, but it would be nice)
1 lemon
nutmeg
pink peppercorns
salt

Put on a pot of water for the pasta.
Meanwhile, slice up the strawberries and chop up the walnuts. Zest the lemon and mix half into the strawberries, and the other half into the ricotta, with the lemon juice.  Add to the strawberries a bit of salt, some fresh grated nutmeg, ground peppercorn, and the walnuts.  Let it sit while your pasta cooks in very salted water.
Reserve a cup of the pasta water and then drain, and run it under cold water for a second or two.  Mix some of the water into the ricotta/lemon, and then add in the pasta, and the strawberries.  Mix it all together, check the seasoning, and you’re done.

Baking Therapy; or, a lemon pound cake the Obamas can have every day

I did not have the greatest weekend, if you want to know the truth. But it’s ok.  And that’s not really what I meant to write about, anyway.  The first purpose of this post is to talk about how food is medicine.

I really do believe that is true.  Food is your first line of defense against any number of ailments.  If you have allergies, insomnia, migraines, depression, high cholesterol, chronic colds, you name it, I bet your health could be improved if you change something in your diet.  And it’s not just a question of cutting down on sugar and upping the leafy greens.  I know people who swear that getting a certain amount of salmon every week keeps all kinds of potential issues at bay.  And nearly everyone can agree that a small piece of high quality chocolate can solve most problems (small wonder it is the remedy used against dementors…).

Now, I have had some experience that would indicate that a gluten-, dairy-, sugar-, etc.-free diet is best for me (experiment to be repeated soon to see if I can replicate the results), but the truth is that it is not a way I can live.  I like cheese, and cookies, and coffee, and beer, and cookies, and even the occasional hamburger. And cookies.  But lucky for me, the flip side of “food as medicine” is “cooking as therapy” (the second point of this post). There are theories that if you limit your diet to eating only things that you cook yourself, you would be extremely healthy and probably lose a lot of weight.  That is not true if you are me, because I am someone who might use my ice cream maker 5 times in one month.  But still.  There are other benefits to standing in front of a stove for a few hours every week. Or sometimes every day.

Case in point: Saturday was kind of a crummy day. I spent Sunday and Monday compulsively cooking and baking everything in my kitchen. And today I feel much better. Successful therapy session complete, no co-pay required.

And now I can get to the third, and (oddly) primary purpose of this post, which is Bill Yosses’s famous lemon pound cake, once readily available at Bouley Bakery (now closed). I have to thank my friend M. at the dojo for the inspiration here. I had asked him if he had any requests for something I might bake and bring in for after class, and he started going on about this lemon cake he used to get at Bouley but sadly cannot anymore. And I said, “David Bouley is famous. The recipe must be published somewhere. Find it for me and I’ll make it.” And then I went home and found it myself, because I am impatient and love culinary detective work.

So it turns out that this cake is really the creation of the aforementioned Bill Yosses, who currently spends his days in the White House kitchen (and who has a new cookbook coming out next week). Which means that this is a cake fit for the Obamas.  And as if I needed any further convincing that I should try this recipe RIGHT NOW after reading all the raves about it on Chowhound and Serious Eats, that was enough to send me out to Whole Foods to buy a bag of lemons and some creme fraiche. And some Plugra butter, because why NOT go all out?

Traditionally, a pound cake calls for a pound of flour, a pound of butter, a pound of sugar, and a pound (?) of eggs. This one is slightly more complicated, and has the most ridiculous baking instructions I’ve ever seen.  It involves three different kinds of sugar and three different lemon-derived ingredients (zest, juice, and fruit segments). And I think it’s worth the effort. 

First, you mix up some flour, superfine sugar (=sugar + cuisinart + 1 minute, because I am not buying ANOTHER kind of sweetener this month), baking powder, and creme fraiche:

My sugar of choice these days is palm sugar, which has a lower glycemic index than cane sugar, and a much deeper flavor, almost caramel-y. 

Add in 6 eggs and some melted butter:

And then the lemon zest and fruit segments:

Then there’s this neat trick that I’m going to have to try on all my quickbreads from now on, where you bake the loaf for a short period and then run a knife through the whole thing, lengthwise. I didn’t really get where Yosses was going with that instruction until I checked on the cake later. Clearly, the man knows what he’s talking about, which is why he’s working at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and I am cooking for friends in my galley kitchen in Manhattan (not that I’d have it any other way). Because it creates this perfect break down the middle, just like when you slash the top of a loaf of yeast bread. 

Anyway, you bake for 15 minutes, make that slice, and then bake longer and then lower the temperature and bake a bit more.  And THEN, you pull it out, let it cool, soak it (really really soak it) in a lemony syrup made with a cup of lemon juice, confectioner’s sugar, and granulated sugar (I did a mix of palm sugar and avave syrup), and bake ANOTHER 10 minutes. 

This is pre-soaking:

I’ll take a picture of the actual final product when it gets eaten, if I remember. Final verdict tk tomorrow. Preliminary verdict is 4 stars. Conveniently, my loaf pan is smaller than the one the recipe calls for, so I got 4 cupcakes out of it in addition to the loaf (though I’m marginally concerned I overbaked the loaf…). And my friend C. and I quite enjoyed them, I have to say. The suggested serving is with a raspberry coulis and mint ice (presumably something like a granita?) but they were also excellent with strawberries mixed with a little balsamic vinegar and some julienned basil.

Final note: given Mrs. Obama’s push for healthier eating, it is unlikely that the First Family ACTUALLY eats this every day. But I bet if Sasha and Malia went down to the kitchen and ask Chef Bill for a slice, they would not be turned away empty-handed.