I know, I know. I left you guys hanging yesterday. We were in Ocean City, Maryland, eating crabs and playing skee-ball, and we didn't get home until after midnight. Even today I am tired and bloated from all the fun I had and the salt I consumed yesterday.

One of the simplest appetizers of all time is just a block of goat cheese or cream cheese with some kind of chutney or jam poured over it, served with a basket of crackers. Any kind of jam is good, especially raspberry, but my favorite is a savory onion chutney flavored with chiles and garlic. It's the kind of thing you find in a specialty food store, and even then it's not easy to find, so I was thrilled to find this recipe for an onion jam.

This is easy and flexible and meant to be played with. Use great ingredients, taste it as you go to measure the need for seasoning, and give it lots of time to turn sweet. Besides the appetizer I mentioned above, try it with grilled tuna, or with sauteed greens like kale or escarole.

Slow and Easy Savory Onion Jam

2 to 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
5 to 6 medium red onions, thinly sliced
10 large shallots, thinly sliced
8 to 10 big cloves garlic (not Elephant type), thinly sliced
salt and generous freshly ground black pepper
shredded zest of 2 large oranges (optional)
1/4 cup currants or raisins (optional)
1 small fresh tomato, peeled, or a canned tomato
1/4 to 1/2 cup wine vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar (optional)

Heat oil in a 12-inch saute pan over medium high. Add onions, shallots, garlic, salt and pepper, tossing to combine. Once they begin sizzling, turn heat to medium low, cover pan and cook 30 minutes, adding zest and raisins half way through cooking. Once onions become soft and clear, uncover, raising heat to medium high.

Brown the onions. Stir often, scraping up the brown glaze on the bottom of the pan. You may need a little water as they approach being done. Once deep gold, stir in tomato and 1/4 cup vinegar, cooking it down to nothing.

Taste for a soft sweet-tart balance. If necessary, cook in a little sugar, or more vinegar. Tomato should meld into the onions, while the vinegar cooks down to an appealing backdrop, not a sharp accent. Cool quickly and pack in jars. Keep cold, but serve close to room temperature.

May 24: Fresh Pasta with Roasted Walnut Sauce

Remember those roasted onions from a couple days ago? Yeah, I've been looking closer at the website where I found that, The Splendid Table from American Public Media. What a treasure trove of creative, innovative, intuitive and delicious sounding food.

I am being brief these days. My mother is here, and she doesn't really know I do this, so...if you see her, don't mention my blog, please. It's the only way I can talk about her behind her back, airing our dirty laundry to the entire internet-connected world.

I am only posting a recipe for the sauce--not posting a recipe for fresh pasta. People who make it already have a good recipe, people who don't but want to can google it and choose from the 1.9 million results that will come back. People who don't really care to make their own pasta can buy that refrigerated pasta from the deli case. Fresh pasta is delicious but it is a pain in the ass. Sometimes I don't mind a pain in the ass. Did I mention that my mother is visiting?

I'm posting this verbatim again, just because it's beautifully written.

Fresh Pasta With Roasted Walnut Sauce

Cook a pound of fresh tagliatelle, fettucine, or other "ribbon" pasta in abundant, sea-salted boiling water to the al dente stage, drain, and toss with 1½ cups of the following sauce. If fresh pasta is not available, substitute dried artisinal pasta.

The Sauce (Makes about 2 cups)
8 ounces shelled walnuts, lightly roasted
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Several gratings of nutmeg
Sea salt and just-cracked pepper
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup late-harvest white wine such as Vin Santo or Moscato

In the work bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade, pulse the walnuts until they are the texture of very coarse meal (do not grind them too finely - more texture is better than less).

Add the cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and pepper, and pulse two or three more times to combine; with the machine running, pour a mixture of the olive oil, cream, and wine through the feed tube and process only until the paste is emulsified. Taste and correct the sauce for salt and spices.

May 19: Honey Bourbon Barbecue Chicken

There are a few things I don't keep in my kitchen. Unless I need it for a specific recipe, honey is one of them. I just don't get a lot of use out of it, it ends up becoming fossillized and weird, and I throw away that cute little bear. Molasses is another.

These are two things that show up in recipes a lot. Like, a lot. And they're both in this recipe. I actually have honey in my kitchen right now. I also have bourbon. Of course I have bourbon. My mother is coming to visit on Friday. I may not have enough bourbon. There may not be enough bourbon on earth.

For this, I'll go buy the molasses though. This looks delicious. I am a sucker for barbecued chicken. Barbecued chicken, sweet corn, potato salad, strawberries and pound cake. I think it would be a suitable last meal, were I on death row.

Oh, this recipe says that the bourbon is optional. Okay, listen: the bourbon is never optional. Make it with the bourbon. It's called Honey Bourbon Barbecue Chicken, after all.

Honey Bourbon Barbecue Chicken

2 tablespoons butter
1 cup onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 cups ketchup
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup molasses
1/2 cup honey
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon black pepper
2 tablespoons bourbon (optional)
6 natural chicken breast halves, bone in, skin on
1 tablespoon coarse salt
1/2 tablespoon black pepper

Melt butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and garlic and sauté until soft, about 4 minutes. Add the next 7 ingredients. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook slowly for 20 minutes; until the sauce thickens. Stir in bourbon.

Prepare a medium-hot fire in the grill.

Mix salt and pepper together. Sprinkle over chicken breasts and under the skin. Grill chicken about 10 minutes per side or until the internal temperature reaches 165°F. Reserve 1 cup of barbecue sauce. Brush chicken lightly with remaining sauce and cook for 2 minutes longer.
Place chicken on a platter and cover loosely with foil until ready to serve

May 11: Compound Butters of All Persuasion

I have been just a little boring lately, I know. I am finding being unemployed just a tiny bit more taxing than I anticipated. I know, poor me, right? But there's all these great meals to cook, though, and suddenly I have time to do it. I've been baking bread. I've been doing all of the running-around that had to be worked around somehow when I had a job; including quitting the bank that I have loathed for the past almost-three years and finding a new one, getting all of our accounts switched around. The upshot of all of this activity is that I am thoroughly exhausted by 9 PM. And no, I'm not pregnant, so as it turns out, all I am is a very old lady.

I will say this though: today, for Mother's Day, we went to Eamon's in Old Town Alexandria. And I ate two battered, deep-fried sausages for lunch. And they were just as good as you would think that two battered, deep-fried sausages would be. Better, even. And I don't even care how fattening they were. They were fricking amazing.

I meant to write more about compound butters yesterday, but Blogger ate my post. I hope it was delicious.

A compound butter is not complicated, but it's a thing of beauty. Fat, which is mostly what butter is, is a great vehicle for flavor. Fat picks up flavors easily and transfers them to other things. Also, fat tastes good. Compound butter is butter mixed with other things.

Compound butters are great on almost anything. Vegetables, steaks, fish, pasta, even popcorn. That one from yesterday, that cinnamon-honey butter? On a waffle? Oh mama. A lot of high-end groceries like Fresh Fields and Whole Foods are selling their own compound butters now, and they're excellent, but you don't have to be limited by what they have available.

All you need for a compound butter is softened, room-temperature butter (I like salted butter for compound butter, just because the salt makes the other flavors pop a little) and some other ingredients of your choice. Here are a few compound butters and some suggestions for what to do with them.
Here are a few of my favorites, and my favorite ways to eat them.

Compound Butter

1 stick salted butter (or 1 stick unsalted, and 1/8 teaspoon table salt), softened to room temperature
Other ingredients of your choice (see below)

Beat the butter with a fork until it's light and fluffy, then work in the other ingredients until incorporated. Store the butter in a small, tightly covered container in the refrigerator, or roll it tightly into a log in plastic wrap, store it in the fridge, and cut off rounds as needed.

Sour Cream & Chive Compound Butter
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons finely chopped or snipped fresh chives
Great on baked potatoes

Cheddar-Bacon-Scallion Compound Butter
1/8 cup finely shredded sharp cheddar cheese
3 tablespoons crumbled, crisp-fried bacon
2 tablespoons finely chopped scallions (white and light-green parts only)
Potatoes of any kind--especially in twice-baked potatoes

Basil-Red Pepper Compound Butter
1/8 cup chopped roasted jarred red peppers
1 tablespoon fresh chopped basil
Tossed with cheese tortellini

Garlic-Herb Compound Butter
2 cloves garlic, pressed through a garlic press
2 tablespoons fresh finely chopped herbs of your choice--try parsley, thyme, and sweet basil
Spread on toasted country bread for easy garlic bread

Chipotle Compound Butter
1 chipotle pepper in adobo
1 tablespoon adobo sauce (from chipotle can)
Spread on outside of chicken quesadillas before grilling

Cilantro-Lime Compound Butter
4 tablespoons lime juice
4 tablespoons finely-chopped cilantro
Melt over grilled fish--mahi-mahi, grouper, and red snapper would all be good

Lemon-Pepper Compound Butter
4 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon coarse-ground black pepper
Tossed with angel-hair pasta and sauteed shrimp

Gorgonzola-Worcestershire Compound Butter
1/8 cup crumbled gorgonzola or other strong bleu cheese
1 tablespoon worcestershire sauce
Melt over grilled steak

Sun-dried Tomato-Parmesan Compound Butter
3 tablespoons oil-packed, finely minced tomatoes
4 tablespoons finely grated parmesan cheese
Spread on white bread for grilled cheese sandwiches
Or, tossed with roasted broccoli

May 9: Bacon, Scallion and Caramelized Onion Dip

Sunday is Mother's Day. My mother will be here for a short visit on the 23rd, and I anticipate eating well while she is here. My mother loves great, extravagant food, has a huge sweet tooth, and will eat anything. She is a lot of fun to cook for, because everything is the best thing she's ever had.

One of my favorite things that my mother makes is tuna noodle casserole, with canned cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas and buttered breadcrumbs on top. I am not going to bother with the recipe for that. It's ubiquitous and everybody's had it and either loved it or hated it, so I won't bother. Take my word, though, that my mother makes delicious tuna noodle casserole.

Instead, here is something that my mother would love. I inherited my love of dip from her. I would serve this with a variety of crackers, or maybe just eat it with a spoon alone in my living room.

Bacon, Scallion, and Caramelized Onion Dip

1/2 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon light brown sugar
1 pound onions, root end cut off, halved pole to pole, peeled, and sliced 1/4 inch thick across the grain
1/2 tablespoon water
Ground black pepper
3 slices bacon (about 3 ounces), cut into 1/4-inch pieces
2 scallions, minced
1/2 teaspoon cider vinegar
3/4 cup sour cream

1. Heat butter and oil in 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat; when foam subsides, stir in salt and sugar. Add onions and stir to coat; cook, stirring occasionally, until onions begin to soften and release some moisture, about 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until onions are deeply browned and slightly sticky, about 40 minutes longer. (If onions are sizzling or scorching, reduce heat. If onions are not browning after 15 to 20 minutes, raise heat.) Off heat, stir in water; season to taste with pepper. (Can be refrigerated in airtight container for up to 7 days.)

2. Fry 3 slices (about 3 ounces) bacon, in small skillet over medium heat until crisp, about 5 minutes; remove with slotted spoon to paper towel–lined plate and set aside.

3. Combine caramelized onions, cider vinegar, scallions, sour cream, and bacon in medium bowl. Season to taste with salt and pepper and serve. (Can be refrigerated in airtight container for up to 3 days.)

April 29: Corn Saute with Canadian Bacon, Potatoes, and Peppers

My father-in-law has Menier's disease. It's an inner ear problem which gives him both a constant ringing in his ears and a constant, low-grade case of vertigo. If you've never had vertigo, imagine that the floor that you were standing on was constantly tilting at anywhere from a 15-degree angle to about a 70-degree angle, randomly. There is no cure for it, nor is there a consistantly successful treatment.

One thing that does seem to help is a low-sodium diet. My father-in-law is an absolute peach of a guy; I'm crazy about him. He is a soft-spoken, true old-fashioned gentleman with an incredible work ethic, is pathologically cooperative, and infinitely patient with his youngest grandson. He also loves my cooking, and nothing endears someone to me like loving my cooking does.

My mother-in-law has gotten pretty decent at making low-sodium substitutes for her husband. She makes a salt-free bratwurst and a salt-free breakfast sausage. Both are outstanding. But one thing that Leo always asks for when he's here or when we're in Michigan is homemade pizza. I love making pizza, way more than I love ordering it, but it's a struggle to accommodate everyone. I am not a fan of ham, and it's too high in sodium for Leo, as are olives, which I love. Kitty, my mother-in-law, can't eat pepperoni or peppers of any kind, and a lot of dried herbs and spices that generally go into pizza sauce bother her stomach as well. Dan loves peppers, but they don't love him. Max likes pizza with cheese and maybe sausage. Everything else is "too bad," according to him.

One thing we all can get together on, though, is Canadian bacon. If you've never had it--I'm just not sure whether it's popular anywhere other than in Michigan, which is practically attached to Canada--it's a lightly smoked and pressed pork loin. It is a little like ham, only without being so salty, and I am a big fan. Most of the time you see it in Eggs Benedict--an English muffin, a grilled slice of Canadian bacon, a poached egg, and Hollandaise sauce--but it is an outstanding pizza topping as well.

Unless you're serving brunch, or pizza, though, that Canadian bacon is not exactly highly popular. I do like it on a grilled cheese sandwich, but it's not that versatile.

Here's something you can do with that half a package of Canadian bacon that's left over after the Eggs Benedict or the homemade pizza. It's on the back cover of an old Fine Cooking magazine, and summer is coming and these are the vegetables that we're going to start seeing in the farmer's markets. I can't wait. When it comes to that leftover Hollandaise sauce, though, you're on your own.

Corn Saute with Canadian Bacon, Potatoes, and Peppers

2 Tbsp unsalted butter
2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup small-diced Canadian bacon (3 oz.)
1 cup small-diced red onion
1 cup small-diced red potato
1/2 cup small-diced green bell pepper
1 tsp. kosher salt
2 slightly heaping cups fresh corn kernels
2 tsp minced garlic (2 cloves)
2 tbsp chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
2 tbsp thinly sliced fresh chives
1/2 tsp green Tabasco, more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
One-half lemon

Melt 1 tbsp. of the butter and 1 tbsp of the olive oil in a 10-inch straight sided saute pan or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the Canadian bacon and cook, stirring occasionally, until the bacon is brown around the edges, about 4 minutes. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels.

Add the remaining butter and oil to the pan. Add the onion, potato, bell pepper, and 1/2 tsp. of salt. Reduce the heat to medium low, cover, and cook, stirring frequently, until the oinons and peppers are well softened and the potatoes are barely tender and starting to brown, 5-7 minutes.

Uncover, increase heat to medium, and add the corn, garlic and remaining salt. Saute, stirring frequently and scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon, until the corn is tender but still slightly toothy to the bite, 3 to 5 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat, add the parsley, chives, Tabasco, a few generous grinds of pepper, and a small squeese of lemon. Stir, let sit 2 minutes, and stir again. Fold in the Canadian bacon, season to taste with more salt, pepper, or lemon juice. Serve warm.

April 27: Chicken in a Horseradish Pan Sauce over Orange and Herb Couscous

Dan, Max, a teacher-friend of ours, and I went to the Nationals-Cubs game today, and Jon Rauch signed Max's hat! I am such a star-struck moron when it comes to Nationals players, and he is one of our favorites. And he is really really tall. Really really. I like tall boys.

Well, we'll see tomorrow how my whole unemployment hairshirt is going to play out. I'm thinking I'll either be bitter and depressed and thoroughly hideous to live with, or else I'll say screw it all and play Suzy Homemaker, do laundry, and generally make myself useful. We'll see.

However, whatever else I do, I plan to continue to cook for my family. That's always my plan; I am not myself when I am relying on someone or something else to take care of these men that I love so much.

Look, Rachel Ray is the antichrist, okay? She strikes me as completely stale and phony, and I think she does some awful things to food, really unspeakable. But occasionally she does produce some actual food, something that isn't gimmicky or boring or just reeking of her. She makes homemade food accessable to people who, I suspect, really wouldn't think much about food otherwise. I'll give her that, because I really and truly think that food should be accessable; everyone eats and should eat well and intelligently and sensibly. There's that. Then there's the side of me that tells anyone who will listen that Rachel Ray is the antichrist, who thinks that what Rachel Ray does is really playing to the lowest common denominator. Okay, that's enough, Molly. God.

That said, this is a Rachel Ray recipe, and it seems smart and well-made and not total nonsense, and possibly quite tasty. I may make this tomorrow, as I need to make some chicken breasts for Dan's lunch as it is. Suzy Homemaker.

Chicken in a Horseradish Pan Sauce with Orange-Herb Couscous

3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
4 6-ounce boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 1/4 cups chicken stock or broth
1 1/2 cups plain couscous
Zest of 1 navel orange
3 tbsp chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
2 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2 cup half-and-half

Preheat a large nonstick skillet with 2 tbsp olive oil over medium-high heat. Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper. Add the chicken to the hot skillet and cook for 5-6 minutes per side.

While the chicken is cooking, in a sauce pot combine 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock and the remaining olive oil. Cover the pot and raise the heat; bring the stock to a boil. Remove the pot from the heat, add the couscous, orange zest, and parsley, then stir. Cover and let the couscous stand for 5 minutes.

Remove the chicken to a plate and tent with foil to keep warm. Return the skillet to the heat and add the onions, horseradish, and thyme. Cook, stirring frequently, for about 3 minutes. Add the mustard, about 3/4 cup of the remaining chicken stock, and the half-and-half. Bring to a simmer, and simmer until the liquid has reduced by half, 3 to 4 minutes. Return the chicken to the skillet to heat, about 1 minute.

Fluff the couscous with a fork. Divide the couscous among 4 dinner plates, then top each portion with a chicken breast and some of the horseradish pan sauce.

April 26: Chile Verde

I am...not sure how I should feel about being unemployed. For one thing, it's not as though we need the money; we don't exactly live high on the hog, our car's paid off and Dan's student loans are not unreasonable. My job has not exactly been my favorite place in the world lately, and the daily dread of what fresh hell awaited me every morning isn't something I'll miss. On the other hand, I was looking forward to getting pregnant again (hell, I've been looking forward to it for a year now) and I liked all the not worrying about money. But to all my real-life friends who've been so sweet and supportive and wonderful, my work people who were shocked and sympathetic on my behalf, and of course my husband and my son, thanks so very much for being everything that you are.

As usual, when I'm feeling a little bruised, I'm craving spicy. This is a widespread, modernized version of a rustic classic Southwestern stew. The easy thing to do here is to use canned chilles, available in the ethnic food aisle of almost any grocery store in the country, but for a real treat, find fresh Anaheim peppers and roast and peel them yourself. This goes great with a sprinkle of cilantro, a few diced tomatoes, and maybe a drizzle of sour cream over the top.

Chili Verde

3 pounds boneless pork, cut into 3/4 inch cubes
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced small
6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 jalapenos, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon oregano (fresh) or 1 teaspoon dried
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cans peeled whole green chiles, drained
2 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

Heat oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion, garlic, chile peppers, oregano, and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Cook until the onion is softening, about 5 minutes. Remove the mixture to a large stew pot.

In the same frying pan, add as much pork as will fit in one layer. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and cook over medium-high heat until browned. Remove to the stew pot and repeat with pork until all of it is cooked.

While the pork is browning, cut the canned chiles into 1/4 inch dice. Add the chiles to the pot, along with the stock, and 3 cups water. Bring to a biol. Reduce the heat to the barest simmer, and partially cover the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 2 1/2 hours, or until the pork shreds easily when pressed with a wooden spoon. Serve with garnishes and flour or corn tortillas

April 14: Flourless Chocolate Apple Torte

On Friday morning, I am getting on a plane and flying to Nashville for my best friend's baby shower. I am thrilled to be getting two and a half days to myself with Kimberly and Michael, and a teensy bit apprehensive to be leaving my son for the longest I've ever been away from him. Can you believe he's almost three and I've never spent a night away from him? I anticipate calling my husband roughly 43 times in the space of 54 hours.

I am knitting madly away on a baby blanket for Kimberly and Michael's little Sproutlet, and for that reason, I am going to keep it short for the next few days. On Friday, in celebration of my destination, I'm planning on posting a recipe for an authentic Kentucky Hot Brown, possibly the best sandwich on earth next to this insane concoction served in a neighborhood bar in my home town, an open-faced hangover cure of rye bread, roasted turkey, smoked ham, melted cheddar cheese, and bleu cheese dressing. Nomnomnomnomnomnom.

It's Passover, and I am not Jewish, but you never know when you might run into someone who keeps kosher. I don't understand a lot about Jewish dietary law, except that it's considered very strict. Here's a dessert for Passover; it looks delicious, even for someone as religiously ambivalent as I am.

Flourless Chocolate Apple Torte


1/2 cup matzo meal
1/3 cup walnuts
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups sugar, divided
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup grated peeled apple
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
8 large egg whites, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
Confectioners' sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Combine matzo meal and walnuts in a food processor; process until nuts are finely chopped. Spread on a baking sheet and toast until fragrant, 5 to 10 minutes. Let cool.

Whisk eggs, 3/4 cup sugar and vanilla in a large bowl until blended. Stir in the matzo mixture, apple, cocoa and chocolate.

Beat egg whites and salt in large, clean bowl, with an electric mixer on medium speed until frothy. Increase speed to high and beat until soft peaks form. Add remaining 1/2 cup sugar 1 Tbsp. at a time, beating until glossy and stiff peaks form.

Stir one-quarter of the beaten whites into the batter. Gently fold in remaining whites with a rubber spatula. Scrape the batter into an ungreased 9-inch springform pan, spreading evenly.

Tap pan lightly on counter to release air bubbles.

Bake torte until top springs back when touched lightly and a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. With a knife, loosen edges of torte. Let cool in pan on a wire rack. (Torte will sink in center).

Remove pan sides and place torte on a serving platter. Dust with confectioners' sugar and serve.

April 4: Chicken Divan

Today is my mother's 68th birthday. Happy birthday, Mary. You don't read this and with any luck you'll never know that such a thing as a blog exists, let alone that I write one, but happy birthday nonetheless.

I have an enormous soft spot for retro food, old-fashioned comfort food that my grandmother made when my mother was young. Lots of it needs to be remodeled, desperately--way too much of it is heavy, canned, full of salt and high-fructose corn syrup, fattening, and no longer that interesting.

I have to admit that despite my disinterest in most of what they do, Cook's Country has a recipe in it for Chicken Divan. Their description of the original dish sounds fussy to a really unnecessary degree: "The original recipe from New York's famed (and now defunct) Divan Parisien restaurant dates back almost 100 years and required a whole poached chicken, boiled broccoli, and a sauce made with bechamel sauce, hollandaise sauce, Parmesan cheese and whipped cream." Yikes.

Yeah, no wonder there's usually so much canned soup involved in most renditions of Chicken Divan. I am just not into either option. But Cook's Country just really looks like they have a great take on this sucker--it looks opulent and delicious and fabulous. I am planning on trying this over the weekend.

Modern Chicken Divan

3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 pounds broccoli, stalks discarded, florets cut into bite-sized pieces
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 medium shallots, minced
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup dry sherry
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
3 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons unsalted butter

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat broiler. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add broccoli and cook until spotty brown, about 1 minute. Add 1/2 cup broth, cover, and steam until just tender, about 1 1/2 minutes. Remove lid and cook until liquid has evaporated, about 1 minute. Transfer broccoli to plate lined with paper towels; rinse and wipe out skillet.

Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in now-empty skillet over medium-high heat until smoking. Meanwhile, season chicken with salt and pepper and dredge in flour to coat. Cook chicken until golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Transfer chicken to plate.

Off heat add shallots to skillet and cook until just beginning to color, about 1 minute. Add remaining 2 cups broth and cream and scrape fond from bottom of pan. Return chicken to skillet and simmer over medium heat until cooked through, about 10 minutes. Transfer chicken to clean plate and continue to simmer sauce until reduced to 1 cup, about ten minutes. Add sherry and Worcestershire and simmer until reduced again to one cup, about 3 minutes.

Stir in 1 cup parmesan. Whisk yolks and lemon juice ina small bowl, then whisk in about 1/4 cup sauce. Off heat, whisk egg yolk mixture into sauce in skillet, then whisk into butter.

Cut chicken into 1/2 inch thick slices and arrange on broiler-safe plate. Scatter broccoli over chicken, and pour sauce over broccoli. Sprinkle with remaining parmesan cheese and broil until golden brown, 3-5 minutes. Serve.

March 31: My Gran's Birthday

Today would have been my grandmother's 97th birthday.

My parents got divorced when I was five years old. My mother had a time-consuming and demanding career that she loved and was great at, and when she wasn't with me, I was with my grandparents.

Here is a post that I wrote about my grandmother last fall on my other blog. It is one of my favorite posts that I've written. I am not putting up a recipe tonight. Instead, call your grandmother, tell her that you love her, and if she'll eat it, consider cooking her a plate of bacon.

Happy birthday, Gran. We love you, and we miss you.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Sweet and Salty

Several days ago, I ran out of coarse kosher salt. It's one of those
kitchen staples that I usually have lots of, but like lots ot things, it just
sort of got away from me this summer. Dan picked it up last night at the grocery
store before he picked me up from at the Metro. Have I mentioned how much I love
the Metro? I do. Public transit is so different here than it is in a lot of
cities whose transit systems have deservedly awful reputations. It's clean,
convenient, runs on time, and doesn't tolerate a lot of the nonsense that takes
place in New York. It saves me a grand total of about forty minutes a day of
driving, and I can knit on the commute.

Wow. That paragraph was so utterly stream-of-consciousness, my middle name
should be "non sequiter."

Salt. I was talking about salt. So Dan picked up a box of kosher salt at
the grocery store.

My whole life, my grandmother kept a crock of kosher salt on her kitchen counter next to her stove. Let me just say that this was a woman who loved salt. When she was dying of metastatic cervical cancer at 94, having radiation and chemotherapy, my mother could always convince her to eat -- as long as the meal consisted of Ensure and bacon. One of her favorite things was radishes, sliced in half and dipped in -- yes, you guessed it -- that exact same crock of kosher salt. It is a wonder that high blood pressure didn't get her, frankly.

The crock is a small brown ceramic one, round and maybe five inches high. It came from the grocery store, filled with Win Schuler bar cheez -- I'm not sure if we have that here, but if you're from Michigan, or maybe northern Ohio, you're probably familiar with Win Schuler. Great stuff. A normal person would have thrown it away when it was empty. Not Gran, though.My mother, the youngest of four children, was born in 1940. My grandparents married in 1930 and raised their children during the Depression and the second World War. My grandmother once said that she had a fight with her husband about how much sugar he put in his coffee. "Sugar was rationed," she explained. "He would finish his coffee and there'd still be sugar in the bottom of the cup. It made me so mad!"

She had an entire basement filled with food, mostly canned vegetables, mostly having expired somewhere around 1989. Her freezers--that's plural--were filled to bursting with things so frostbitten that they were unidentifiable, even when they were thawed. My cousins and I referred to her basement as The Food Museum. She saved margerine containers, plastic bags, Cool Whip tubs, and--well, basically everything that ever came in the door. My mother once threw away a pile of church lady meeting minutes from 1951. My grandmother barely spoke to her for a week.

When she was speaking, she had a way with words, my Gran. Once, when we were driving somewhere, out of nowhere, she said, "When I was your age, I was married and had three kids."

I had just broken up with my boyfriend of three years. "I know, Gran," I said.

"I'm sure you'd meet someone right away if you weren't so heavy," she told me in a very encouraging tone of voice.

And then I killed her.

Just kidding. But still, this was not exactly music to my ears. I was as thin as I'd been since high school, and substantially less satisfied with my life at that point that I had been in a long time. She sure cut to the chase, my Gran.

I went on my first date with Dan the night before Gran's birthday. That night, I went to her apartment there in her retirement community, planning to take her out for dinner. Instead, she'd cooked--chicken and homemade noodles, my favorite. I offered to take her to Steak 'n' Shake for a malt after dinner, her favorite treat.

"Sure," she said. "Let's go to the cemetary first."

"I...okay," I said.So for her birthday, I drove her to the cemetary where three of her four children, husband, and two grandchildren are buried, then to Steak 'n' Shake for chocolate malts.

After we watched "Friends" on television--her favorite TV show--I wished her happy birthday, kissed her good night, and left. On the way out, I called Dan on my cell phone."How's your Grandma?" he asked.

"That was the weirdest birthday party I've ever been to," I told him.

Gran was very sick when Dan and I got married, but we got married in her church, which made her very happy. Several days later, she told my mother she didn't think she could live by herself anymore, even in her assisted living community, and should probably move in with them.

We got married in July. I got pregnant in October. Coming back from the doctor's appointment where the doctor confirmed that I was pregnant, my mother called. It was getting close to the end. Gran didn't get out of bed anymore. She wouldn't eat--not even bacon.I didn't tell her I was pregnant. I really didn't want her emotions about her mother dying to be wrapped up in her emotions about me being pregnant. Besides, it was early. It made sense to wait. I'm not always sure I did the right thing, but based on what my mother said, Gran wouldn't have realized that I was pregnant at all.

My Gran died the first week in November of 2004. She was survived by her daughter, six grandchildren, eight great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild, and Max, four weeks gestation. Her will stated that my mother should receive one quarter of her estate, and the rest should be split among her grandchildren.

This inheratance was sizable, and it allowed me to pay off our car and stay home for a year with Max. That is a really big deal.

My gran had a lot of junk--sixty years worth of margerine tubs, for example. She also had things that reminded me and all of my cousins of our childhood, spent on the southeast corner of Wall Lake in Delton, Michigan, learning to waterski and fish for three-inch long bluegill (my theory is that we caught the same ten fish all summer long every year) and torment each other all summer. I even lived there for a year when I was 22, rent free. Gran was the best roommate I ever had: she didn't use my tampons, borrow my clothes or CD's, or lose my phone messages--probably because she was too hard-of-hearing to hear the phone ringing most of the time.

During a storm that summer, the enormous oak tree on the hill in front of the house fell. It knocked down the railing on the deck and flattened a pink plastic flamingo my Uncle Lonnie had once given my mother as a joke, as well as a couple of very old, extremely uncomfortable metal lawn chairs, and just barely missing the northeast corner of the house. Gran said that when she married my grandfather in 1930 and laid eyes on that tree for the first time, she'd said, "That tree won't make it through the winter." The tree made it through the next sixty-nine winters.

My mother made sure that we would all get the things that were most precious to us, that reminded us of Gran and our childhood. Two of my cousins bought the property that her home stood on--one cousin lives next door, in the house that my aunt and uncle built, next door to my grandparents, a crazy upside down house with a huge kitchen on the second floor and a walkout basement of a first floor.

Every time I fill the salt crock on my kitchen counter, I think of my Gran. It's her salt crock, I asked my mother for it, and it wouldn't have been worth a dime to most people. I think she was surprised that I wanted it. But I think of her every time I look at it, and hope that someday, an old cheese crock from the grocery store will be as precious to someone who catalogues my idiosyncrasies for the benefit of the internet, just to show how much they loved me.

March 30: Home Fries

Just in case anyone is interested, it's March 30th. The only significance to this date is that, five years ago, my husband and I started a conversation in the parking lot after work, decided we were enjoying the conversation so much that we wanted to continue it, went back to his apartment, and talked until 2:30 in the morning, at which point he made a somewhat clumsy overture which I pretended not to find hilariously funny and kissed me for the first time, my last first kiss (I hope.)

I just asked Dan what the first meal I ever cooked for him was. What he said to me was, "If I had known there were going to be pop quizzes later, I would have written some of this crap down." For the record, it was a roasted chicken in his Ron Popeil Showtime Rotisserie oven. I had never met anyone who had one of those; I'd been dying to try it out. It really was as simple as they make it look in the infomercial. That chicken was delicious, and I think it clinched it for Dan, that I really was the ideal woman.

I have cooked very few meals that my husband hasn't loved. To be fair, I'm married to a man who loves food, almost all of it, but before me, he always dated (and married) women who couldn't cook and didn't care about food. In contrast, he and I plan days around certain meals, take road trips in order to eat at specific restaurants, and have a monthly food budget nearly equal to our monthly rent.

My husband makes perfect Kraft Macaroni and Cheese; he always lets the butter and milk and cheese bubble in the pot for a few minutes before stirring the pasta back in. He loves meatball hoagies. Green bell peppers give him indigestion. He likes his hot dogs simmered in water and then pan-fried for a few minutes in butter with a little sprinkling of pepper, with mustard and onions and cole slaw. He eats salad with whole-wheat pasta and sliced chicken breast and vinaigrette dressing every day for lunch. And he once played the unspeakably dirty joke of telling me he was eating a peanut butter sandwich, and then when I took a bite, it turned out that he was actually eating a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. I still have not totally forgiven him.

One of the things that I really appreciate about Dan is that on weekend mornings, he gets up with Max and makes a very elaborate breakfast. One of the best things he makes is home fries.

Here is Dan's recipe for home fries. You can make as few or as many of these as you want, just by varying the amount of the ingredients and the cooking time. This is enough for about 4 people, if you're making them as part of a full breakfast. Dan made them this morning for me along with scrambled eggs and bacon.

Thanks, babe. Here's to five more years, and another fifty after that.

Home Fries

2 russet, all-purpose, or Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch dice
1 small white onion, finely diced
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoons black pepper

Put potatoes in a microwave-safe bowl and toss with garlic powder. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and poke a couple of small holes in the plastic wrap. Microwave, on high, for 8 minutes.

Heat oil and butter in a large (12-inch) non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. When butter stops foaming, cook potatoes in skillet over medium-high heat, turning occasionally, until golden-brown and crispy, 10-15 minutes. Mix in diced onion, continue to cook another 6-8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

March 18: Swiss Steak, Southwest Style

Something of an oxymoron, right? Okay.

We just finished dinner, and mmmmmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmm. All I can do is sit here and make happy food noises.

This was a total experiment, based on what looked good last night and was on sale in the grocery store. When I was pregnant, I had wretched morning sickness for about four months. One of the few meals I could stomach was swiss steak, also one of the few meals that my mother makes really, really well. At the time, my mother was 13 hours away and could not be at my house to make swiss steak every night, so I made it myself. Not every night, but once a week, at least. That, chili dogs, tuna-noodle casserole, white bread, and navel oranges were the only things that would reliably not make me yack.

The result of this was that I gained 100 pounds. The end. No, I'm kidding, I only gained about 28 pounds, and I give the credit to the fact that I lost about 15 in the first trimester. The real result is that I burned out a little on swiss steak and haven't really been interested until I found two packages of the most gorgeous-looking cube steaks in the grocery store last night on sale.

Swiss steak, in case you were wondering, is not from any neutral European country. It is a cheap piece of beef, usually bottom round, that has been swissed, or poked repeatedly with sharp objects, until some of the meat fibers are cut, tenderizing it by--well, basically by pre-chewing it for you.

I know, okay? I prefer to chew my own food, generally speaking. But we're talking about a seriously cheap-ass piece of meat that's magically transformed into a lean, beefy, fork-tender piece of deliciousness that does not occur in nature otherwise.

So here I am with these cube steaks, and some pantry staples. Dan and I both had the thought in our head that we wanted something a little spicy; and these gorgeous steaks were staring at me from the second shelf of the fridge.

So I modified my mother's swiss steak recipe slightly. Here's what I did:

Swiss Steak, Southwest Style

4 6-ounce swissed bottom round steaks
Flour
Salt
Pepper
Cayenne
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 shallots, minced
6 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 medium onion, finely diced
1 14.5 ounce can Muir Glen Organics fire-roasted diced tomatoes
2 cups chicken broth
1 to 2 whole pickled jalapenos from a can, finely diced

Combine flour and salt, pepper, and cayenne, all to taste, in a shallow dish or plate (taste the flour, it should be fairly well-seasoned.) Dredge the steaks in the flour

Heat the oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the shallots, garlic, and onion to the pan. Cook, stirring constantly, until they are fragrant and softening slightly, 30 seconds to 1 minute. Add the steaks in and brown, turning as needed to keep them from burning. Remove steaks from the pan.

Add tomatoes to pan. Use broth to rinse out the can, then pour the broth into the pan as well and bring to a simmer. Nestle the steaks back into the tomato-broth mixture and simmer, uncovered, 20 minutes, turning steaks occasionally.

Stir the jalapenos into the sauce and continue to simmer another 20 minutes. While your steaks simmer, make some mashed potatoes. They don't have to be fancy, just regular old mashed potatoes are fine. Even the kind from the box will do; it's not really about the potatoes.

When the sauce is as thick as you want it to be and the potatoes are ready, make a big pile of mashed potatoes on a big platter. Pile the steaks over them. Spoon or pour the spicy tomatoey goodness over the whole thing.

Curse yourself for making something this yummy when you're on a diet. Only eat one helping.

February 28: Salad of Smoked Trout, Radicchio, and Grapefruit

Ask me why I don't have any recipes for fish on this site. Quick, ask me. Well, I'll tell you: I am afraid of fish.

I have a pretty eclectic palate, I think, and I don't consider myself a fussy eater. But when it comes to fish, I'm Sam I Am. I do not like them in a car, I do not like them in a bar. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.

Unless we're talking about smoked fish. And then I am on board. I can't tell you why I'm okay with smoked fish, except that I grew up close to Lake Michigan, and often vacationed there. When we did, my mother held an afternoon Happy Hour daily. We would come up from the beach to whatever condo or house we were renting and fix snacks and drinks and take them to the deck for a couple of hours before dinner. When it comes to liking snacktime better than an actual meal, I've been guilty as charged for my whole life.

Being near the lake, there was often smoked whitefish or lake trout available when we were vacationing, so that was often part of the Happy Hour snack buffet, along with veggies and dip, chips and salsa, hummus and pita bread, cheese and crackers, antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, or any other easy little easy snacks we had around. Even though I was never interested in fish in any other form, smoked fish is something I associate with vacation, summertime, long afternoons, and having nothing much to think about but cute boys on the beach.

I saw this recipe on another food blog this week, and I am aching to try it. In my head, I can see how it'll all come together: the sweet smokiness of the trout, the sweet-sour of the grapefruit, the bitter of the raddichio. This sounds like an amazing first course for an amazing meal, like maybe a roast tenderloin with crispy potatoes from the oven, followed by a poached pear with caramel sauce. I really need to invite people for dinner more often.

This serves 6. It originated in Food and Wine magazine nine years ago.

Daniel Boulud's Salad of Smoked Trout, Pink Grapefruit, and Radicchio

1 cup of bread in 1/2" cubes
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large pink grapefruit
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 head radicchio, about 3/4 pound
1 smoked trout (about 8 oz)
1/2 cup walnut pieces
2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro, plus additional whole leaves for garnish
3 small scallions, white parts only, thinly sliced
Salt
Pepper

1. Toss the bread cubes with the garlic and oil and then bake them in a 350 degree oven until the bread cubes are golden, about 7 minutes

2. Toast the walnut pieces in 350 degree oven until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes

3. Peel the grapefruit, and then peel the membranes off the individual sections. Do this over a bowl so you can catch the juice also. Set aside six sections for garnish and cut the remaining slices into small (approximately 1/2”) pieces.

4. Whisk together the cream and vinegar and season with salt and pepper.

5. Tear the radicchio leaves into bite-sized pieces. Toss with enough dressing to moisten well. Add the smoked trout, walnuts, chopped cilantro, scallions, grapefruit pieces, and croutons. Add salt and pepper, then toss well, adding more dressing if needed. Taste and adjust seasoning.

6. Garnish with reserved cilantro and reserved grapefruit. Serve with additional dressing on the side.

Note: Daniel Boloud suggests reserving 12 of the largest radicchio leaves and serve the salad in those, two to a person.

January 26: Scrambled Eggs in Puff Pastry

I think brunch is an underused social occasion. Most people like to go out for brunch; I like to invite people over. It's a great excuse to sit around in the dining room for hours, lingering over coffee. Nobody's got to hurry home because they've got to be at work the next morning, nobody's got to get the kids to bed. When we live in a house that can accommodate more than just the three of us space-wise, I pledge to invite people over for brunch more often.

Besides, brunch food is great. In college, my friend Ryan invited me home to Western New York with him for Fall Break one year, and his mother made a potato casserole that was just really...wow. All it was, was thawed frozen country-style hashbrowns mixed with sour cream and cheddar cheese and baked. I love to make it with turkey sausage, browned and mixed in. I occasionally make a breakfast strata with spinach and bacon--it involves making it ahead of time and refrigerating overnight, and it's like a savory bread pudding. Delicious.

This dish, the scrambled eggs in puff pastry, is worth having people over for, but it's easy enough to just make for people who already live in your house with you. It takes a little time and effort, but it's worth doing. Let the puff pastry thaw on the counter while you prepare the other ingredients. It'll save you a little time at least. Serves 4-6.

Scrambled Eggs in Puff Pastry

7 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons butter
2 9x9 1/2-inch sheets of frozen puff pastry, thawed
Flour for dusting
6 ounces cheddar cheese, shredded (1 1/2 cups)
8 ounces sliced ham

Whisk 6 of the eggs together with the salt and pepper. Melt the butter in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat, swirling to coat the pan evenly. Add the eggs and cook while gently pushing, lifting, and folding them from one side of the pan to the other until they are nicely clumped, shiny, and wet, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer the eggs to a large plate and refrigerate until cool, about fifteen minutes.

Unfold one sheet of puff pastry onto a lightly floured work surface and smooth out the creases. Lightly beat the remaining egg and brush a thin layer over the pastry. Divide the chilled scrambled eggs, cheese, and ham into two equal portions. Arrange one portion of the scrambled eggs, cheese, and ham over th bottom half of the pastry, leaving a 1/2 inch border at the edges. Fold the top half of the pastry over the filling and press down with a fork to seal the edges. Repeat this process with the remaining puff pastry sheet, eggs, cheese, and ham. Transfer both pastries to a rimmed baking sheet, wrap lightly with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until firm, 15 minutes.

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Remove the pastries from the refrigerator, remove the plastic wrap, and brush the tops with the remaining beaten egg. Bake until golden brown, 25-30 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 5 minutes before cutting into individual portions.

What I Want For Valentine's Day

Have you seen those green tea roses that are around now? Golly, I wish I'd known about those for my wedding--they are absolutely lovely, very subtle, and beautiful paired with blue hydrangea, which my attendants and I carried with white roses--lovely, but I think that these would have had even more impact:

Dan loves to buy me flowers and does so with no encouragement at all. It's really a very nice thing in a husband. Last year on Valentine's Day, three dozen red roses appeared at my office with the sweetest note I'd ever read. And everyone in my office all got together, gathered around my desk, and said in unison, "Awwwwwwwwwwwwww."

You know, I'm a pretty practical girl. The flowers are nice, but this year, I want something else. My mother knows me pretty well, and this year for Christmas, she stuffed my stocking with jars of spices from Penzey's Spices. Are you familiar? It's a spice company that not only sells a wide variety of herbs and spices, but also sells blends. Last night, for example, I had popcorn with Penzey's Brady Street Cheese Sprinkle on it, and it was a great effort for me not to lick the bowl.

My husband rarely reads anything I write; it's the curse of being married to an English teacher. By the time he's done reading 130 essays written by functionally-illiterate 9th graders every week, he's pretty much all done with the reading, although he did mention to me the other night, when I left my laptop open on the couch, that he agreed with everything I said about Shane's Rib Shack. Anyway, I doubt he'll see this, but if he does: Dan, don't send me flowers. Send me these things instead:

Arbol chile peppers

Black and Red spice

Ceylon cinnamon

Sicilian Salad seasoning

Pequin chile peppers

Sandwich Sprinkle

Rogan Josh seasoning

Italian Sausage seasoning

Northwoods Fire seasoning

Parisien Bonnes Herbes

Creamy Peppercorn

Tsardust Memories

Szechuan Pepper Salt

Trinidad-Style Lemon-Garlic

Flowers are great and everything, and you can't go wrong with them. This year, though, I would be willing to forego the traditional Valentine's Day gifts if the mailman were to turn up on my doorstep with a giant basket full of spice blends. Does that make me weird? A little. Am I okay with that? Oh yes.

January 11: Twice-Baked Potatoes With Broccoli and Cheese

I will admit that I put a little more effort in on Friday and Saturday nights, Saturday in particular. I would think that most people, especially most people with full-time, high-maintenence jobs, probably would. During the week, I look for dinner to take no more than an hour and a half to cook, consume, and clean up after.

On Friday or Saturday, I am more likely to put in a little time. That's why this is a Friday-or-Saturday dish--it involves baking, cooling, slicing, and hollowing out potatoes, baking the potato shells again to dry them out a little, making the filling, stuffing the shells, and baking them again. It is time-consuming and a little labor-intensive.

My mother went on this diet when I was about 21. She was excessively grouchy for about three months, because she was restricted to about 1000 calories a day, and she was doing these incredibly difficult 2-hour workouts every day. I would probably be worse than grouchy--homicidal might be more accurate--but one of the things she got to eat was a crabmeat-stuffed baked potato. It was really quite fabulous.

I like food stuffed in other food. There's something really good and sort of premeditated about it, it requires some planning ahead and doing some work. The cafeteria at my husband's school serves a stuffed baked potato with broccoli and cheese on Mondays. I think this has potential to be really great, not at all cafeteria food.

This would be a great side dish with steak or baked chicken and a salad. I like that it incorporates both a starch and a vegetable; it's like an almost-one-dish-meal. I make extra of these every time I make them, and then Dan takes them in his lunch. I really think the key to this is the filling, and I like a lot of it, so I bake an extra potato just for the insides.

Oh, speaking of potatoes, I have to tell this story about my stepfather, Tom. Tom doesn't like to cook--but he loves to eat. Tom had a small collection of recipes in a recipe file, and my mother kept the file because it is just so fricking funny. It contains things like directions for heating up Campbell's Tomato Soup in the microwave, and grilling a steak (that recipe starts with "light a fire..."). One of my very favorite recipes is his recipe for baked potatoes. The card says:

Baked Potato
Makes 1.

Ingredients:
1 Potato

Directions:
Turn the oven on to 400.
Stab the potato with a fork.
Put it in the oven until it's done (1 hour).

I have to admit that this recipe is perfectly serviceable. Even better than that, it sounds like an opera written by my stepfather.

Slightly further down this road is this dish. I make it out of my head, basically, without really using a recipe, but I'll try. Make extra, they reheat well. Serves 4 generously.

Twice-Baked Potatoes With Broccoli and Cheddar
5 All-Purpose potatoes, scrubbed, and pierced all over with a fork
1 package Boursin shallot and chive cheese, or other flavored cheese spread
1/3 cup sour cream
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 cup broccoli, cut into small bites, steamed until tender-crisp, and cooled, or 1 cup chopped frozen broccoli, thawed
1 1/4 cup shredded sharp cheddar
1/8 tsp. freshly ground coarse black pepper, or to taste
1/4 tsp. kosher salt, or to taste

Preheat oven to 400. Put potatoes straight onto oven racks and bake until very slightly undercooked, about 50 minutes. Let the potatoes cool slightly, about fifteen minutes.

Cut the potatoes in half horizontally. (note: Potatoes have a slightly flatter side. Cut parallel to that flatter side, your final product will lay flatter as it's filled and baked.) With a spoon, carefully hollow out each potato half, leaving a 1/4 inch thick potato shell. Put eight of the shells onto a sheet pan and return to the oven for about 10 minutes, until slightly dried out and browned. Discard the last two shells, or save for potato skins or some other use.

Prepare the filling--combine the Boursin, sour cream, butter, and broccoli in a mixing bowl. Use a potato ricer, if you have one, on the potato flesh and add to the Boursin mixture, mixing together. Fold 1 cup of the cheddar into the mixture. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Fill each potato shell with a heaping amount of filling. Place back on sheet pan. Sprinkle the last 1/4 cup of cheese over potatoes and slide back into the oven until filling is hot and browning slightly, 15-20 minutes. Serve.

January 2: Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Dijon, Walnuts, & Crisp Crumbs

My husband's nephew Justin is 19. He lives with my in-laws and is attending his first semester of nursing school, and he is, all things considered, an amazing kid. He is responsible, bright, thoughtful, funny, with a wide variety of interests, including food. He is a great cook--he prepared a wide variety of sushi and sashimi for the family Christmas get-together this year, and it was pretty fun to watch my husband's aunt and uncle, who rarely eat anything that Uncle Phil or one of his brothers hasn't shot himself, uneasily approach what they would ordinarily have considered bait.

One of the family stories that I heard shortly after beginning to date my husband is about Justin as a four-year-old. His grandmother, my mother-in-law, was preparing brussels sprouts for dinner one night as Justin watched with interest. She steamed them and buttered them and served them, and Justin, well accustomed to the rule that everyone tried everything at the dinner table, ate a brussels sprout. He chewed, swallowed, and asked, "How can something so cute taste so yucky?"

I've had a lot of mushy, overcooked, skunky-tasting brussels sprouts too, but what I'm in love with is a perfectly cooked, nutty, fresh-flavored vegetable. As Fine Cooking magazine points in December's issue, the best favor you can do for yourself when cooking this vegetable is cutting it into a shape that suits the cooking method: quarters for roasting, slices for braising, and shredded for sauteing.

The recipe from this article that I particularly love is this one, made with ingredients I keep in my pantry. If you like, you can prepare the breadcrumbs up to two hours ahead of time.

Serves six to eight.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Dijon, Walnuts & Crispy Breadcrumbs
From Fine Cooking Magazine, December 2007, by Martha Holmberg

Ingredients
1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp caraway seeds, toasted lightly and crushed
3/4 tsp kosher salt; more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
2 pounds Brussels sprouts, ends trimmed, cut through the core into quarters
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 cup coarse fresh breadcumbs
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Position racks in the top and bottom thirds of the oven and heat the oven to 400 F. Line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, whisk 1/4 cup of the olive oil with the mustard, Worcestershire sauce, caraway seeds, 1/2 tsp of the salt, and about ten grinds of pepper. Add the Brussels sprouts and toss to thoroughly distribute the mustard mixture. Spread the sprouts in an even layer on the two baking sheets.

Roast until the cores of the sprouts are just barely tender and the leaves are browning and crisping a bit, 20 to 25 minutes (if your oven heat is uneven, rotate the pans midway through cooking).

While the sprouts are roasting, make the topping: line a plate with two layers of paper towel. Heat the remaining 1 Tbsp oil with the butter in a medium (10 inch) nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. When the butter has stopped foaming, add the breadcrumbs all at once; toss to coat with the fat. Reduce the heat to medium, add the walnuts and the remaining 1/4 tsp salt, and cook, stirring constantly, until the crumbs are browned and slightly crisp and the nuts are golden, 4 to 6 minutes. Dump the breadcrumb mixture onto the paper towels to drain the excess fat.

Transfer the sprouts to a serving bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper if necessary. Sprinkle the crumbs over the sprouts just before serving.

Fashonista Vintage Floral Bib Apron

My grandmother, as she aged, cooked less and less, but I have memories of her in the kitchen going all the way back to my earliest childhood. She was the daughter of German immigrants, and she liked hearty, sensible, economical food. She made an incredibly simple chopped cabbage salad with an oil-and-lemon juice dressing that was unbeatable, and apparently impossible to reproduce, despite the repeated attempts by her family. She was neither an adventurous nor an exotic eater--pizza was just about as far afield as she would go.

My grandmother died more than three years ago. When I saw these aprons for sale at Wrapables.com, it was almost like she was standing in front of me again. She would have chosen them not for their style or color, both of which I love, but for their practical nature and usefulness--my gran liked to wear clothes several times before washing them, and so strove to keep them as clean as possible for as long as possible--a feat, I am certain, that was difficult while raising four children above a grocery store. These are are neither practical nor useful for me, but I almost ordered them anyway. I could hear her saying, "Well, that seems like a fine waste of your money, Miss Molly."