May 17: Turkey Cutlets with Peas & Spring Onions

Dan and Max and I went down to the Charlotte Hall flea market in St. Mary's County this morning. Most of what was for sale in the farmer's market section of the market was not homegrown or particularly appealing, but St. Mary's County has a lot of Amish residents, and they had some spring produce for sale. I bought two huge bunches of spring onions from an Amish family. Spring produce is one of my favorite things ever, artichokes and peas and those soft, sweet lettuces like butter lettuce and Bibb lettuce.

I don't think I've done even a single turkey recipe on this blog, which is sad because we eat a fair amount of it, between turkey sandwiches and ground turkey and turkey sausage. This caught my eye, and not just because the same Amish family who was selling produce was also selling turkeys in cages, and they scared the crap out of my kid. It incorporates some of my favorite things, and I did happen to pick up some peas as well.

Turkey Cutlets with Peas & Spring Onions

1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt, divided
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1 pound 1/4-inch-thick turkey breast cutlets or steaks
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
4 ounces shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced (about 1 1/2 cups)
1 bunch spring onions or scallions, sliced, whites and greens separated
1 cup reduced-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup peas, fresh or frozen, thawed
1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest

1. Whisk flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt and pepper in a shallow dish. Dredge each turkey cutlet (or steak) in the flour mixture. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the turkey and cook until lightly golden, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate; cover with foil to keep warm.

2. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil to the pan and heat over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms and onion (or scallion) whites and cook, stirring often, until the mushrooms are browned and the whites are slightly softened, 2 to 3 minutes. Add broth, wine and the remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is slightly reduced, 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in peas and onion (or scallion) greens and cook, stirring, until heated through, about 1 minute. Stir in lemon zest. Nestle the turkey into the vegetables along with any accumulated juices from the plate. Cook, turning the cutlets once, until heated through, 1 to 2 minutes.

April 30: Corn & Squash Soup

I am watching Top Chef only reluctantly this season. For one thing, I think Tom Collicchio's restaurants are woefully overpriced and totally fussy, and what the hell is up with his soul patch, and also, why is he such a grumpy old poop? For another thing, I got tired of the egos the last two seasons, and it made me a little less willing to stick my toes back in the water. That Marcel twerp, particularly, deserved one serious foot in his ass. Yuck. I'm watching the reruns, but I rarely stay up late enough to watch the new episode, because I just think they suck.

Non sequiter: I like soup. I love seasonal food. I can't wait to cook this, but since becoming unemployed, my food budget is limited and I just found this recipe and I can't work improvisation into my budget, so it'll have to wait, but as you know, food is like porn for me: beautiful pictures and descriptions of things that I will probably never do.

Corn and Squash Soup

6 cups water
3 basil sprigs
1 garlic head, halved horizontally
2 tbsp butter
1 cup diced onion
2 cups diced yellow squash
3 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels
Salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper as needed

Combine the water, basil, and garlic in a large saucepan. Bring to a simmer and cook, partially covered, for 30 minutes, skimming the surface as necessary. Strain the broth and reserve.

Heat the butter in a soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, until translucent, about five minutes. Add the squash and cook, stirring frequently, for another 5 minutes. Add the corn and reserved broth and bring the soup to a simmer. Season to taste.

Puree the soup and strain it through a fine sieve. Return the soup to the pot and bring to a simmer. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve the soup in heated soup bowls.

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 22: Artichoke Crostini

Let me just say this for the ten-thousandth time, approximately: take advantage of spring vegetables. It's like somebody offering you a free, very tasty and fresh, new car. Why wouldn't you eat your new car? It's the best thing around.

This simile got terribly confused somehow. Forgive me, I'm sleepy. That's why yesterday's entry had so many errors in it: I kept falling asleep while I typed.

This would be a really nice appetizer, a start for a spring meal like roasted lemon chicken and orzo.

Artichoke Crostini


4 artichokes , steamed and cooled, outer leaves removed and choke removed from heart
1 - 2 teaspoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
Table salt and ground black pepper
8 slices Italian bread or French bread, sliced 1/2-inch thick
1 large clove garlic, peeled

1. Mash the artichoke hearts and stems with a fork. Stir in lemon juice, olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. (Can be covered and kept at room temperature up to 3 hours.)

2. Grill or broil bread on both sides. Rub one side with a peeled garlic clove. Spread the artichoke mixture on the toast. Serve immediately.

March 27: Sauteed Chicken Breasts With Creamy Chive Sauce

When I was little, my grandmother had a million wild chive plants growing in her yard. I can still remember the smell of the backyard, the herbal, oniony sweetness that hung over the backyard from April until August. My grandmother would send me outside to get her a handful of chives to chop into salads, to stir into sour cream for a baked potato. I could smell the chives on my hands for hours afterwards.

Chives are coming into season right now, along with asparagus, artichokes, green garlic, peas, and other spring vegetables. Spring vegetables are great: they're light, they're fresh, they're springtime on a plate.

I've said before that I love chicken breasts for their blank-slate quality. If I were going to make it into a musical metaphor, chicken breasts are the cello behind the piccolo of a spring veggie. That's why I love the look of this recipe: the richness of a delicate, creamy sauce against the sweet herbal note of chives. I think that I would serve this with a spinach and garlic orzo with a little lemon and a little parmesan, and a crispy green salad, and a loaf of crispy bread to sop up the sauce.

Sauteed Chicken Breasts With Creamy Chive Sauce


4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 pound), trimmed of fat
1 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour, divided
3 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
2 large shallots, finely chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 14-ounce can reduced-sodium chicken broth
1/3 cup reduced-fat sour cream
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 cup chopped chives (about 1 bunch)

Place chicken between sheets of plastic wrap and pound with a meat mallet or heavy skillet until flattened to an even thickness, about 1/2 inch. Season both sides of the chicken with 1/2 teaspoon salt. Place 1/4 cup flour in a shallow glass baking dish and dredge the chicken in it. Discard the excess flour.

Heat 2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and cook until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate, cover and keep warm.
Heat the remaining 1 teaspoon oil in the pan over medium-high heat. Add shallots and cook, stirring constantly and scraping up any browned bits, until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Sprinkle with the remaining 1 tablespoon flour; stir to coat. Add wine, broth and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt; bring to a boil, stirring often.

Return the chicken and any accumulated juices to the pan, reduce heat to a simmer, and cook until heated through and no longer pink in the center, about 6 minutes. Stir in sour cream and mustard until smooth; turn the chicken to coat with the sauce. Stir in chives and serve immediately.

March 25: Pan-Roasted Asparagus with Parmesan and Toasted Garlic

It is not exactly an exaggeration for me to say that garlic is one of my favorite things in the world. Nothing says comfort food to be like a big bowl of linguine tossed with a mixture of olive oil, crushed red pepper flakes, about eleven cloves of minced sauteed garlic, and topped with a handful of toasted panko bread crumbs tossed with Italian seasoning. Then I smell like garlic for two days and my husband wants to know if I'm trying to ward off a Romanian vampire, or just him. What I'm not telling him is, the pasta's totally worth it.

What I don't love: asparagus. It's just one of those acquired tastes that I never managed to acquire. Maybe it was that my mother liked asparagus boiled to a grey slimy mass. Or, maybe it's just that asparagus tastes like old gym socks to me.

However, I acknowledge its popularity. I appreciate that I'm in the minority when it comes to this spring vegetable. I'll even stink up my house making it for my husband who loves it. But from now on, I'm making it this way, to distract me from the fact that it's, you know, asparagus. I will probably even take a bite of it. Unfortunately the new prescription drug is continuing to make everything with more than two ingredients in it taste like a cocktail of gefilte fish and butterscotch pudding, so I won't like it or anything. But hey, I'm a sport.

Use big fat asparagus, or it'll overcook. If all you can get are the sweet little petite things, then reduce the cooking time by 3 or 4 minutes.

Pan-Roasted Asparagus with Parmesan and Toasted Garlic
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 medium cloves garlic, sliced thin
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 pounds thick asparagus spears, ends trimmed
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

1. Heat the olive oil and sliced garlic in 12-inch skillet over medium heat; cook, stirring occasionally, until garlic is crisp and golden but not dark brown, about 5 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer garlic to paper towel-lined plate.

2. Add the butter to the oil in the skillet. When butter has melted, add half of asparagus to skillet with tips pointed in one direction; add remaining spears with tips pointed in one direction. Using tongs, distribute spears in even layer (spears will not quite fit into single layer); cover and cook until asparagus is bright green and still crisp,about 5 minutes.

3. Uncover and increase heat to high; season asparagus with salt and pepper. Cook until spears are tender and well browned along one side, 5 to 7 minutes, using tongs to occasionally move spears from center of pan to edge of pan to ensure all are browned. Transfer asparagus to serving dish, sprinkle with grated Parmesan and toasted garlic, adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

February 29: Potato and Green Garlic Chowder

It's the last day of February and I have a hard time with the whole Leap Day thing. I mean, come on. If this were really a day, wouldn't we have one every year? This should be like, a bonus day or something, where we all sleep in until noon and nothing that we eat counts for calories or fat. That's a Leap Day I could get behind.

Anyway, it's almost March, which means spring vegetables are coming. Artichokes, asparagus, ramps, spring onions, and green garlic mean nice, light, balanced pasta dishes, sides, and appetizers, like asparagus with prosciutto in puff pastry and artichoke risotto and penne with green garlic and ricotta. Well, that last one might not be light exactly, but it is springy.

Green garlic, if you've never run into it, is an early spring treat if you have a great farmer's market. It's available from March to May and it's got a delicate garlic flavor, without the bite of raw regular garlic.

The Los Angeles times has a recipe for Potato and Green Garlic chowder, to which I say oh hell yes. Keep an eye out for these sprouty veggies; this sounds so worth having. Serves 4-6.

Potato and Green Garlic Chowder

1/2 pound green garlic
1 1/2 pounds fingerling potatoes
2 tablespoons butter
1 onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Black pepper
Good olive oil
Grated pecorino Romano

1. Trim the root ends of the green garlic and the very tips of the green leaves if they are dried out. Cut the green garlic crosswise in thin pieces. Slice the potatoes in half lengthwise and then into about half-inch pieces. Place them in a bowl of water to prevent coloring.

2. In a large saucepan, combine the butter and onion and cook over medium heat, stirring roughly until the butter melts and the onions turn soft and creamy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the garlic and the green garlic, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until the mixture is fragrant, about 5 minutes.

3. Add the potatoes and turn them in the garlic mixture. Add the broth and salt, increase the heat to medium and bring to a simmer. Loosely cover and cook at a quick simmer until the potatoes are soft enough to be smashed with a fork, about 20 minutes.

4. Coarsely purée the potatoes and garlic. This is most easily done with an immersion blender but can also be done in a food processor or blender if you're careful to pulse quickly. The mixture should be chunky, not a smooth purée.

5. Add one-half teaspoon sherry vinegarand a generous grinding of black pepper. Taste and add more salt, pepper or vinegar if necessary. Return to the pan and simmer another 5 minutes. This makes about 7 cups of soup.

6. Stir briskly just before serving. Ladle into warm serving bowls, drizzle with a thread of olive oil and sprinkle over 1 to 2 tablespoons grated pecorino Romano.