Keeping it Crisp

This has not been the Summer of the Zucchini so far. We’ve been getting only a pound or at most two each week. I don’t feel overwhelmed. I haven’t even resorted to zucchini bread yet. (And no, I don’t ACTUALLY need the excuse of too much zucchini to make that.) The result is that I haven’t needed to be very creative with my squash cooking, even when it comes to getting C. to enjoy the stuff.* I’ve made this pasta salad for dinner twice now. It’s essentially a very simple Ottolenghi recipe from Plenty, tossed with penne. I also swapped in walnuts & walnut oil, because cob nuts (British hazelnuts, basically) are not in my kitchen lexicon.

Start with smallish squash. Not the kind that is as big around as your arm. (Especially not if you’re this guy.)

Slice them on the bias, about a half-inch thick, and toss them with olive oil, salt, & pepper. Grill them over very high heat, just a couple of minutes on each side.

You’ll want to get grill marks, but not really cook all the way through, because no one (especially C.) likes soggy zucchini.

As soon as you remove them from the grill, toss them in a bowl with a splash of balsamic vinegar. Let them sit and come to room temperature, more or less. If you didn’t listen to me and used giant squash anyway, now is also the time where you cut them into bite-sized pieces.

Then, cook up a pot of pasta (penne works pretty well, I think), and toast some walnuts. Drain the pasta and toss with the squash. Add the walnuts, chopped, some thinly shaved parmesan, and a big handful of fresh basil. The original recipe was via Ottolenghi, meaning you should replace the word “big” with “preposterously large” handful of basil. My only source that day was my window box, which I did not feel like decimating, so I used considerably less. You should follow the requirements of your own palate & supplies. Toss it all together, drizzle in a bit of walnut oil, and add a little extra salt if you like. 

*Truthfully, she’s starting to enjoy zucchini quite a bit, as long as I keep it practically raw. Not sure if I’ll be able to make any headway with broccoli, though.

Penne with Grilled Squash, Walnuts, and Basil

serves 3-4

8 oz. penne

1 oz walnuts, toasted and chopped

1 1/2-2 lbs small summer squash

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 tsp balsamic vinegar

1-2 oz parmesan, shaved thin

1/2 oz fresh basil leaves (aka a huge handful), torn

1 tsp walnut oil

salt

pepper

Cook the pasta according to the instructions on the package. Drain and rinse with cool water.

Cut the squash on the bias into 1cm thick slices. Toss with 1 Tbsp olive oil, salt, & pepper.

Heat a grill (or grill pan) over very high heat, and cook the squash for no more than 2 minutes per side, just into there are grill marks. Toss with a little balsamic vinegar and let sit.
When the zucchini has cooled somewhat, mix in the cooked pasta, the chopped walnuts, the parmesan shavings, and the torn basil leaves. Drizzle the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and the walnut oil. Taste for salt & pepper.

Easy Breezy Summer Salad

Generally speaking, once the CSA starts for the season, I stop buying vegetables. Aside from some onions, probably (before they start showing up), the weekly delivery is enough for me. Partly, that’s a conscious effort to truly eat with the season–so no tomatoes in early June, no delicate lettuce in November. It’s a kind of discipline I impose on my kitchen for the 24 weeks of the harvest. But also, if I were to start buying sweet potatoes in July just because a recipe with eggplant (or whatever) calls for them, I would NEVER make it through the rest of that week’s share.

But a girl cannot live on leafy greens alone–one does need a little protein. So today at the greenmarket, on my way home from work, I treated myself to a pound of fava beans. And then I had to learn how to deal with fresh favas, which is not as hard as all that. You shell them, and then simmer for a few minutes, and then if they are small enough, Nigel Slater says you don’t even have to skin them. And even if they’re on the large side (most of mine were), they just pop out of the skins. If you have inherited your mother’s asbestos fingers, you can have a pound of them–which works out to about a cup–cooked and ready to go in 20 or 25 minutes. 

Slater also says that they go beautifully with mint, which I happen to have in my window box, and scallions, several of which were in my vegetable crisper, just crying out to be used. 

(Those are the pre-simmered, pre-skinned favas, for reference.)

Everything came together very quickly. I sauteed the summer squash in some olive oil, in two batches so it would actually saute and not steam. I tossed it all together with some sherry vinegar, the chopped mint and scallions, olive oil, salt, and white pepper. 

I served it to myself on top of some millet that I’d cooked earlier this week, which I admit was not quite right. I think it’d be great as a pasta salad. The rich texture of the beans makes up for the otherwise unforgivable lack of cheese. Though maybe it’d be even better just as a veggie side to whatever else you’re eating. 

Oh, it’d be great over polenta, too, which is now what I want, except that it is stupidly hot today and polenta is not something I make in the heat.

Summer Squash & Fava Bean Salad

serves not as many as you’d think

1 lb fava beans, shelled

1 lb summer squash

olive oil

4 scallions, sliced thin

1 Tbsp chopped mint

2-3 Tbsp sherry vinegar

salt

cracked white pepper

Bring a pot of water to boil. Salt it generously, and add in the fava beans. Cook them for 4-5 minutes. Drain, cool, and pop any large ones out of their skins. 

Cut the squash into bite-sized pieces. Heat a skillet with olive oil, and saute them, with a little salt, in batches if necessary depending on the size of the skillet. Add the cooked squash to the favas, and toss as quickly as possible with the vinegar. Add the mint & scallions, drizzle in some more olive oil, and season with salt & pepper to taste. 

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Getting Creative with Squash

Months ago, it came up in conversation with my girlfriend that she doesn’t like zucchini. This was pretty early on in our relationship, and while it wasn’t the kind of dealbreaker statement that “I don’t like cheese” would have been (can you imagine?!), I knew even then that it would require some creativity this summer. If you belong to a CSA, you will know what I mean. Zucchini–and all forms of summer squash–arrives in 2-, 3-, and 4-pound piles. Weeks go by this time of year where I eat it every day. Hoping that C. would be joining me for at least a couple of meals a week, and knowing I can’t eat 4 pounds of squash myself before the next delivery, I figured I’d have to get creative.

The secret, it seems, is to hide the squash in a baked good (muffins, for example, with grated zucchini, cubes of cheddar, and lots of chopped basil), or to surround it with good flavors and cook it so minimally that the texture remains firm. This simple, noodle-less lasagne from Not Eating Out in New York is a perfect example of that second method.

You will need a couple of squash, some parmesan, an egg, a cup of ricotta, and a quarter cup of pesto. Also olive oil, salt & pepper, and some oregano if you like (which I do).

Slice the squash very thin–I’d’ve used a mandolin but with these sunbursts, it wouldn’t really have worked–and toss them with olive oil, salt, and pepper. If you’re using zucchini or another long squash, cut it lengthwise, so you have long, wide, noodle-shaped pieces

Mix together the ricotta with the egg, a little more salt & pepper, and the oregano.

Oil a baking dish (this one is either 8″ x 8″ or 9″ x 9″, which was the perfect size), and lay in the squash slices, spreading ricotta and pesto in alternating layers between them. Finish with the last of the pesto, and top with as much grated parmesan as you like. (And remember: when in doubt, double the cheese. Words to live by.)

Bake at 375F for about 15 minutes, until the cheese on top starts to brown just a little and it is more or less hot all the way through. The texture will still be pretty firm, the flavor is wonderfully intense, and it is surprisingly light for something with so much cheese. Maybe “light” isn’t the right word. But it isn’t overly rich. 

The next day, I brought the leftovers as part of a picnic dinner in Brooklyn Bridge Park, where there was a screening of Ghostbusters. As I’d hoped, C. really liked it–she even went for seconds. Though she confessed to me that in addition to not liking zucchini–something I am gradually proving to be untrue–she generally doesn’t like lasagne either. Attentive readers will note that the first dinner I made for her, before we were actually dating, was a vegetable lasagne. She ate that, too. Make of that information what you will. 

My notes on this recipe:

Not Eating Out uses a mix of zucchini and a long yellow summer squash. That would undoubtedly make for a neater lasagne that more closely resembles actual lasagne noodles, but these round sunburst worked very well, too. I just didn’t get the neat square edges that would be possible with long, rectangular slices of squash.

The only thing I’d change would be to salt the slices for 20 minutes or so, and drain them, before tossing with olive oil. There was a lot of liquid in the dish when it was cooked. Delicious liquid, to be sure, but I couldn’t help thinking it would be improved if it were a little less soggy. Or maybe I just needed some good garlic bread to accompany it. Since there is no pasta in this, it wouldn’t feel like such a carb overload as bread with normal lasagne… 

Summer of My Greek Zucchini Pie

I don’t actually know what zymaropita means. According to a cookbook I was snooping around in at my now-favorite used bookstore, it is a zucchini pie, of sorts, made with cheese and cornmeal. It ought to be made with a very specific type of cheese, though, called myzithra, which is not readily available in this country, much to the dismay of E. (Though maybe these things are easier to find in Seattle?) So the author kindly supplies a combination of more common dairy products that approximates the flavor and texture.

Specifically, she suggests goat’s milk feta (mine is a goat/cow blend), whole milk ricotta, and Greek yogurt (this is Icelandic, which you might not have known is a style of yogurt–very similar to Greek, though).

To which you add a few cups of grated zucchini, after tossing them with salt and letting it drain in a colander for an hour.

Mix them together thoroughly, and add some olive oil.

Genius that I am, I forgot the olive oil. I don’t think the pie/cake/whatsit was irreparably harmed, but  I’d recommend following the actual recipe next time.

Either way, then add some eggs and milk.

Mix in some cornmeal, and spread in an oiled baking dish. Theoretically this should be something round, so you can still call it a pita, which is Greek for “pie.” Obviously, I went in a different direction.

Bake for about 40 minutes at 375F. Serve with a salad of tomatoes, sweet peppers, cucumbers, and feta, dressed with lemon juice and olive oil. Just like the lady doing the demonstration at the Union Square Market, because kitchen inspiration comes from all directions.

Zymaropita (cheesy zucchini cornbread)
Adapted from The Glorious Foods of Greece: Traditional Recipes from the Islands, Cities, and Villages

3 c coarsely grated zucchini
1/2 T salt
6 oz feta
3 oz ricotta
1/2 c Greek yogurt (or other strained yogurt)
1/4 c olive oil
3 eggs
1/2 c milk
salt & pepper
2+ c cornmeal

Mix zucchini & salt, place in a colander, and let drain for about 1 hour. Squeeze out as much water as you can.
Preheat the oven to 375F.
Combine the cheeses & yogurt in a large bowl. Mix in the grated zucchini and olive oil. Season with salt & pepper.
Beat together the eggs & milk, then add to the zucchini mix.
Slowly add cornmeal, incorporating about 1/2 cup at a time, until you have a wet dough.
Oil a 9″x13″ baking dish. Press the dough into the dish and bake 40-45 minutes, until golden brown. Alternately, use a 9″ round cake pan, and bake for more like 50-60 minutes.

Noodles and Dumplings

I have somehow become the webmaster of sorts for my CSA’s location, meaning I created a WordPress site where I post the week’s delivery and the (always lovely) note from the farmer. The site also serves as a place for members to share recipes, which, since nobody has suggested a better way to organize them, are categorized by main ingredient, with a page for each vegetable we receive. We’ve gotten scallions three out of the last four weeks, and at first, I didn’t think a page for scallions was necessary, because aside from scallion pancakes, what are you really going to make that features that ingredient? Scallions are a garnish, an accent, or even a substitute for another member of the lily family when you’re out of onion or chives. They are nothing to get excited about.

Or that’s what I thought until I wound up with three large-ish bunches of the things in my fridge, and was planning dinner for I., K., M., and myself. The question “How can I use these things up?” led to a quick Google search, which led to David Chang’s patented ginger-scallion noodles. I have eaten at several of the Momofuku restaurants, and I confess that I find nearly everything Chang does fascinating, brilliant, and (most importantly) delicious. And since I also had a couple of cucumbers begging to be eaten, this was a no-brainer.

To start: scallions. Lots of them.

Slice them up, very thin, using the entire length of the scallion. (I frankly don’t understand recipes that call for the whites only, or even only half the greens. It seems wasteful.) You will need 2 1/2 cups.

Mix in 1/2 cup of minced ginger, 1/4 cup of some neutral oil (grapeseed or whatever), 1 1/2 tsp soy sauce, 3/4 tsp sherry vinegar, and 3/4 tsp salt. Toss it all together and let it marinate for at least 20 minutes.

When I waved the bowl under M.’s nose so she could get a hint of what we’d be eating, she responded, “It smells like dreams,” which is now the standard I aim for with every recipe I make.

Toss the sauce with the noodles (soba in this case, though I’m still not sure I know how to cook them properly–the texture never seems to come out right) and there you go.

Meanwhile have your friend I. slice up the cucumbers on your mandoline and toss them with a tablespoon of sugar and a teaspoon of salt (more or less, as you see fit; the suggestion is a 3:1 sugar: salt ratio, but the actual amount is to taste). These also need to sit for 20 minutes before you serve them.

And the last step is to find a vegetable you like and pan sear it in a little oil. I believe the official cookbook calls for cauliflower, but it is high summer squash season, so that is what we used. And M. did a yeoman’s job of manning the skillet.

She was also instrumental in cooking the dumplings (stuffed with ground pork and sliced leeks mixed with a little soy sauce and sesame oil), which we all helped assemble. This process was not photo-documented, largely because I’m not a very good journalist but also because I wasn’t entirely sure how they would turn out. I had returned from the shore the previous Sunday with a pile of wonton wrappers (isn’t that what your mom sends you home with after you visit for a weekend?), and this seemed like as good a use as any I was likely to find. It turns out that (a) fried dumplings are preferable to steamed and (b) dumplings are more exciting than noodles. I suppose I should not be surprised at either of those findings.

In any case, we sat down to a beautifully set table (I. and K. are expert napkin folders, even working with paper instead of cloth) and enjoyed our Asian feast immensely.

There was also some silliness in addition to dinner. But I think that’s inevitable with this crowd.

Pork Dumplings
This “recipe” is obviously very adaptable. You can spice it up with chile oil or add in some minced ginger or fish sauce or garlic or really anything. Also I have no idea how many it makes…

1 stack of wonton wrappers
1/2 lb. ground pork
1 large or 2 small leeks, cleaned and sliced into thin half-rounds
2-3 tsp soy sauce
1 tsp sesame oil
peanut or vegetable oil (something with a high smoke point)

Mix the pork with the leeks, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Put small spoonfuls in the center of each wonton wrapper and close them up, brushing a little water around the edge to seal them properly. Try to get as much air as possible out of the dumplings.
To steam, place in a single layer in a steamer (the metal kind works though bamboo is probably easier) over boiling water. Cook for 5-10 minutes, until they are firm to the touch.
To fry, heat a little oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Cook a few minutes on each side, again until they are firm to the touch.
Serve with the dipping sauce of your choice (the ginger-scallion dressing is a good one, thinned out with a little more grapeseed oil).

Bittman to the Rescue

I was out of town from last Thursday until late Monday, and then had a work function (read: booze cruise) (on a boat called the Romantica, captained by a guy who goes by the moniker “Papa Fish”) (seriously) Tuesday night, so it wasn’t until Wednesday that I was able to get back into the kitchen.  And yes, we did cook a bit while we were at Copper, but honestly, cooking on an electric stove just doesn’t do it for me.

Which is maybe how I justified turning the oven to 400F for, oh, an hour or so last night.  (More than that, actually, because I made a peach galette, too.)  Let me remind you that the high temperature recorded in Central Park yesterday was 93F, and even by 8 o’clock, it was still registering at 86F.  Let me also remind you that I don’t let much stand in the way of a recipe I especially want to make.

The recipe, in this case, is Mark Bittman’s Layered Vegetable Torte, which happened to be the Minimalist column yesterday.  Almost suspiciously convenient, no?  That he’d write about a dish that required pretty much exactly what I got in the vegetable box this week?  How could I not make this recipe immediately?  Considering that I’m heading to the shore for the weekend tomorrow, a recipe that used up this many different ingredients was exactly what needed to be made.

First you need a pile of veggies.  It doesn’t actually matter so much what you’ve got on hand, though something squashy is recommended. I had an eggplant, some zucchini, a bulb of fennel, a longish greenish sweet pepper that I can’t remember what it’s called, some scallions and garlic scapes, a few cherry tomatoes, and a veritable bouquet of fresh herbs. 

All the veggies get sliced into pieces about 1/4″ thick, drizzled with olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and roasted at 400F for as long as it takes.  Turn once, after 10 or 15 minutes, and pull them out for good when they’re thoroughly soft.  Alternately, if you’re lucky enough to have a proper grill, that’ll work, too, just don’t tell me about it.  I love my grill pan, but with this quantity of veg, it’s just not big enough to get the job done in a timely manner.  Sigh.  One day, I will have a grill of my own, and a place to put it, and that day will be beautiful.  And you will all be invited over for dinner. (Oh, wait–you’re all already invited over.  So that much at least won’t change.)

I cut the scallions and scapes into pieces about 1″ long and roasted them, too, which in retrospect was maybe not the best idea.  I think it would have worked better if I’d kept them whole and put them in for only the last 10 minutes, which is what I did with the tomatoes. 

Anyway, get out your springform pan and oil it lightly.  You’ll either want to put it on a cookie sheet or wrap it in foil, because if it’s anything like mine, it’s not 100% watertight. Or oil-tight, rather.  Layer the veggies and chopped herbs, and chopped garlic if you’re using it.  Squish the layers together with a spatula, then sprinkle on a couple handfuls of breadcrumbs, and grate a pile of parmesan on top.  Do not skip the “drizzle with about 1 tablespoon oil” step, which is what I inadvertently did. 

Nothing awful will happen, but the cheese won’t brown quite properly without it (after 30 minutes in the oven, still at 400F).

So yes, 30 minutes.  Take it out, let it rest a bit, undo the springform, let it rest a bit more. 

Then slice it up, and serve with maybe some leftover polenta?

Oh, and about that galette: leftover bit of unrolled pie crust in the freezer, 4 peaches (peeled and chopped), juice of half a lime, a bit of honey, a tablespoon of butter cut into bits, wave the magic wand and bake for 40 minutes at 400F.  The sil-pat is essential here (thanks, mom!), or else I just don’t know how to prepare a galette, because the peach juice leaked out all over the place and it would have been a bitch and a half to clean off a cookie sheet.  I think I skimped on the honey, but other than that, it was delicious. 

Let Me Eat Cake

As anyone with a farm share–or a backyard garden–can tell you, starting about July, there will be an embarassment of summer squash. It is a wonderful vegetable, incredibly adaptable to just about any recipe you can concoct. It generally just absorbs the flavors of the preparation, which is a nice way of rephrasing my dad’s assessment, that it is kind of bland. But that’s actually a good thing, because you’ll have so much of the damn stuff that you’ll need to be cooking it all the fracking time. And if you only had one or two options, you’d be getting very sick of zucchini very quickly. Like last year when we had neverending cabbage, which meant cole slaw, stir fry, and more cole slaw. But 2 (or even 3 or 4) pounds of summer squash can be put to so many good uses that it’s hard to get resentful. Soups, salads, breads, stews, pasta dishes (you can even use it in place of pasta!). As long as your pantry is well stocked, there’s really no end to what you can make.

For example, you can make this olive oil cake, which comes from Gina DePalma, the pastry chef at Babbo. And it will barely use up a pound of summer squash, so you’ll still have plenty to put in your salad for lunch, thereby justifying baking the cake in the first place. (Cake + salad = balanced diet.) As if I need justification for these things. One bakes a cake because it’s Monday. Or Tuesday. Or because all the pie is gone and one must have SOME sort of baked good lying around lest the earth stop rotating on its axis. (Can I start my own religion with that as the core belief? That the sun will not rise unless we keep baking? Way better than human sacrifices, I think.)

But I digress. Cakeward bound.

I got zucchini this week, but truthfully you can use any variety of summer squash you find. The green flecks in the batter are nice, though, because they serve as a sort of proof that yes! There are vegetables in this cake! It has tangible nutritional value!

There are also toasted, ground walnuts. You’ll want them to cool fully before you grind them up, though, or you just get walnut butter.

Then you’ve got your sugar, flour (whole wheat pastry this time, for no very good reason), eggs, and a pile of spices. For some reason I haven’t bothered to buy ground ginger in, well, ever, so I used fresh ginger root. The only other atypical ingredient is the olive oil, in lieu of butter. 

Wait, zucchini? Walnuts? Olive oil? This is really just a salad in disguise…

Anyway. Mix up the flour, leaveners, and the spices. I might cut down on the spices next time, though the gingerbread-y aroma has its appeal to be sure.

Then use a hand mixer on the eggs, olive oil, and sugar (and ginger root. SIX to 1 replacement rate on this, meaning 2 tablespoons of fresh for every teaspoon of dry).

Mix until the sugar is properly mixed in, and it starts to get a little frothy. Olive oil doesn’t get creamy like butter, but it’s a similar thickened feel you’re going for. Then dump in the flour mixture and stir to combine.

Meanwhile, grate the zucchini, and grind up the now-cooled walnuts.

Mix both of those into the batter and pour it into the dish of your choice. The recipe formally calls for a bundt, but I wasn’t in a bundt mood. A 9×13 lasagne pan works, too, you just need to cut the baking time by 5 or 10 minutes. Just make sure it’s oiled and floured.

While that’s baking, prepare the lemon glaze. I used agave nectar instead of granulated sugar, which definitely made it easier to incorporate all the ingredients, but it probably affected the texture. Which I can live with. It’s just not as crunchy as I was expecting.

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the baked cake:

I did not follow the “let it cool” instructions before glazing, because I had no intention of flipping it upside down, so instead I just drowned the thing in the lemon syrup and let it cool in situ. And let me say, I’m awfully glad I followed my new habit of cutting down on sugar in baked goods (I think I used 1 1/2 cups instead of 1 3/4) because that syrup is damn sweet. 

Which fact did nothing to stop me from devouring this slice.

Cook Club 2

[Guest post from M.]

L. has graciously allowed me to post a story to her blog about our most recent cook club.  As regular readers of this blog know, a few months ago, L. gathered a group of us with the idea of having regular supper parties.  There are four of us, and we take turns hosting.  Whoever hosts is in charge of all the food.  The other three bring guests and drinks.  L. hosted our first dinner party, which you can read about here.

Sunday night, it was my turn.  Those of you in the New York area know that this past weekend was sweltering.  Disgustingly hot.  All I wanted to do was lay in my air-conditioned bedroom and dream of winter snows.  It felt like we were in Alabama, and as luck would have it, I had planned a menu of southern food from The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook.  Even more lucky, I had done some of the baking the day before, and two of the main dishes were salads.  Regardless, by the end of the evening, my kitchen felt like a sauna.

So, on to the important things.  We started off with cheese straws (recipe from Mark Bittman; I don’t have a large food processor, and the Lee Bros’ recipe was a bit too reliant upon the food processor for me to feel as though I could adapt it reliably to my food-processor-less kitchen) and deviled eggs (recipe from the Lee Bros.).  I also had a big pitcher of sweet tea, and L. brought a pitcher of unsweetened white jasmine iced tea.  Delish!  I even dug out my grandmother’s hand-crocheted table-cloth for an added Southern touch (am I the only one who associates tablecloths with the South?  We never used them growing up — they seem most at home on a table tied to traditional ways).

After everyone had arrived and had had time to cool off with iced tea or wine, I started the grits.  I had planned originally to make grits with blue cheese, but with the weather, I thought the cheese might make them unnecessarily heavy.  I had already made the collards — vegetarian, but cooked in a smoky tomato onion sauce that gave them a nice traditional flavor — so I just heated those up as the grits cooked.  I had also prepared the two salads before my guests arrived — a succotash made of corn, cranberry beans, tomatoes, yellow squash, and basil;

and a “new ambrosia” made with grapefruit, oranges, avocados, celery, and cucumber — so C. tossed them with their dressings while I cooked. 

The recipe for the ambrosia is available online here.

I was most fond of the collards and grits, but I thought all the dishes turned out well.  It was nice, in this heat, to have cool dishes and to avoid the heaviness that comes with meals featuring too much dairy or meat.  Next time, I think I’d use less dressing on each of the salads, and I think I would de-seed the tomatoes before adding them to the succotash. 

But, of course, the most important part of any meal is dessert.

I had cooked a buttermilk pound cake the day before.  It was my first attempt at making a pound cake, and it turned out beautifully.  I’m still slightly traumatized by the amount of butter that went into it, but the results were divine.  I topped the cake with some plain whipped cream, a sauce made from blueberries that I had picked in New Jersey the weekend before, and fresh blueberries (sadly, not fresh picked). 

So, all in all, a lovely dinner with old friends and new.  We survived the heat and proved that a vegetarian southern feast is not an oxymoron.

Freezer Bounty

A. and C. came over for dinner the week before Christmas, and we raided the stash of veggies in my freezer to concoct a meal for ourselves. Or more specifically, I let A. use whatever she wanted and we filled in the holes at Agata & Valentina, and ended up with a really delicious pasta dish with sausage and veggies in a tomato sauce. Then also a beet salad with goat cheese, pistachios, and parsley, and absinthe ice cream with chopped chocolate truffles.

I seem to be having some issues with blogger, because it doesn’t want me to reorder these photos. And since I’ve already put off posting this for several weeks, I think I’m going to surrender that battle. So in no particular order, here we go.

Here is the finished sauce:

A. had wanted more tomatoes, but I explained to her several times that all that was available in my kitchen was the pouch of what I’d gotten from Winter Sun Farms.

Here is my ice cream maker, hard at work on the base, with the chopped chocolate truffles waiting patiently for their turn to be added:

And the unassembled beet salad:

This is the sauce mid-preparation:

And some action shots of A. at work:

An Urge to Watch CGI Rats Cooking French Food

J. came over for dinner last night, and the plan was, essentially, ratatouille (a.k.a. pisto). We started off here: Eggplant-Pepper Tomato Sauce
and then ignored that completely and looked at a recipe card I’d written down after watching Wolfgang Puck make pisto on the Food Network maybe 7 or 8 years ago. It’s more of a list of ingredients than a recipe, but that’s what usually results in the best meals in my kitchen.

I believe it reads:
1 eggplant
1 zucchini
1 bell pepper
2 tomatoes
basil
oregano
olive oil
salt
red pepper flakes

combine all ingredients in a pot, cook for 30 minutes.

No, really. That’s the recipe.

We played fast and loose with the quantities, and varieties, nixed the red pepper flakes, and dumped in some fresh parsley instead of oregano because it turns out that is something I am out of. (Note to self: buy oregano) Then topped we it off with some eggs,

and served with some delicious rosemary bread. (Additional note to self: make this again next time I get fresh oregano, and make the Pain de Campagne, too.)

Then for dessert, I’d bought these gorgeous but not-quite-ripe peaches at the greenmarket, and I had a bottle of sauvignon blanc stashed in the fridge, so we pulled a quick David Tanis, sliced up the peaches, drizzled with just a little honey, and dumped in half the bottle of wine, and stuck the bowl in the fridge until after dinner. (This is another recipe from the Yellow Dinner meal I made for M. and R.) It’s basically white wine sangria, with the ratio of wine-to-fruit reversed. Delightful.