Spicy Spinach and Potato Chowder

It’s been soup and stew season in our home for these past few wintry weeks. That’s fine by me; I love curling up with a steamy bowl of something tasty while it’s snowing outside. But this weekend I noticed that all of our soups had begun to resemble each other, featuring beans or tomatoes or both. It was like they all shared a common ancestor, and that ancestor was chili. Don’t get me wrong: I love a good bean as much as the next person, but a girl cannot make it through soup season on chili alone.

So I set about creating with a soup that was warm and filling, had a dearth of legumes and contained nothing canned (as I was loath to brave our icy front steps to pitch the empties into the recycling bin). The result was a kind of potato chowder with a spicy Indian twist, but nary a bean in sight. If you need a break from the chili this week, give it a go.

potato spinach soupSpicy Spinach and Potato Chowder

  • 2 Tbsp. butter
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 2 carrots, chopped
  • 2 tsp. tumeric
  • 2 Tbsp. curry powder or other Indian masala mix
  • 1 Tbsp. curry paste or Indian pickle (I used pickled lime)
  • 5 cups vegetable stock
  • 3 large red-skinned potatoes, chopped
  • 1 pint half-and-half
  • 1 bunch spinach, de-stemmed and coarsely chopped
  • Salt and pepper Continue reading

Smoky Greens with Cranberry and Pine Nuts

Shannon and I were visiting my brother and his wife last week, giving me an opportunity to play further with greens.  Their CSA delivered them a clutch of beautiful orange, yellow, and purple carrots.  Andrew is all about his carrot greens, which is convenient since they’re super high in potassium, Vitamin K, magnesium, etc.  We also had on hand a bunch of beets, so I tore the greens off of them (high in Vitamin A, as well as K) and tried to figure out what to do.  Andrew and I then came up with the following, Thanksgiving-inspired dish.

 

Smoky Greens with Cranberry and Pine Nuts

  • two bunches of carrot, beet, or any other green
  • cup of dried cranberries
  • quarter to half cup of pine nuts
  • one large yellow onion
  • olive oil
  • garlic
  • paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt & pepper

Chop onions and saute over low heat until soft.  Add garlic and infuse the oil.  If your Continue reading

Food and Death on the Small Screen (or TV with a Side of Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto)

sopranosAlright, I admit it: I like watching television while I eat dinner. I KNOW, okay? I am single-handedly destroying the time-honored tradition of family suppers, and Jason and I will probably forget how to have actual conversations, and the world is going to hell in a hand basket. And yes, I, too, hate the zombie-like stare-at-the-screen epidemic of the modern era. But, but, but…I like coming home from a frenzied New York City day and cooking dinner and letting myself be hypnotized for a little while.

Jason and I excuse this guilty pleasure by telling ourselves that at least we watch good TV. And it really is a grand age for television dramas, isn’t it? We don’t have cable, so most of our viewing takes the form of gobbling up the latest DVD releases of shows like Game of Thrones or Homeland or Mad Men or (R.I.P.) Breaking Bad. But I like the “classics,” too. I’ve sat through two viewings of Deadwood and I’m not above a third. And when I heard that Jason had never seen all of The Sopranos, the show that ushered in this golden television epoch, we went back to the pilot and started from there.

It’s funny; after my first viewing of The Sopranos, six or seven years ago, most of what stuck with me was the violence, but this time it’s the food that really stands out. Everyone, even the skinny teenaged daughter, is constantly packing away the ziti and manicotti and cannoli and other Italian foodstuffs ending in “I” that I can’t hope to spell correctly. It’s like they’re defying death with the stuff of life. In the last episode we watched, the recent-immigrant cousin Furio expertly formed a massive ball of mozzarella cheese (baby-soft, lily-white, the closest cheese approximation of mother’s milk), while pulling on a cigarette and almost ashing into the bowl. Then he went and beat some people up. Life and death, man, life and death.

Anyway, you shouldn’t try to take on The Sopranos without the proper sustenance. Here’s a recipe for a sun-dried tomato and walnut pesto that’s hearty and delicious and will leave you yearning for the next episode.

Sun-Dried Tomato and Walnut Pesto Continue reading

I Stank I Can, I Stank I Can: All Aboard the Forager Express

You know Ginko trees, those numbers with the stanky yellowish berries that I, and perhaps you, called “stinky trees” as a wee lad?  Well, I ate some of that stank.

This came about because Shannon is awesome and for an anniversary present took me deep into Queens to spend an afternoon with Wildman Steve Brill.  A name like Wildman primarily conjures in me images of either a crazed and burly mountain man type or a happily-hard-livin drummer in a band opening for Dokken in 1987, but Steve Brill fits neither of these molds.  In fact, this is the picture he has of himself on his website, which more perfectly sums him up than anything I could write this morning.

Our afternoon with Steve, billed by Shannon as “New York’s top wild food foraging expert,” was spent walking Forest Park learning about and filling up a bag with wild roots, berries, and greens (or weeds, if you want to be classist) that we could incorporate with dinner.  It was nothing less than unflaggingly awesome. Continue reading

Jason’s Middle-Eastern Greens & Beans

It’s winter greens time.  I love my dark greens.  Other people don’t.  Most people don’t, probably.  Shannon has traditionally been one of these people, and this is convenient for me because 1) I live with her, and 2) one of the things I love in life is winning converts to foods they’ve previously sniffed at.  I have yet to convince Shannon that V8 is awesome, but I did manage to whip up some greens last night that won approval and even an extended life in the form of a second helping.  Greens are insanely healthy for you, and you’ll notice a difference in your day if you eat them regularly.  With a little creative spicing and coupling with beans, they’ll easily become one of your staples.

We had a bunch of braising greens from the CSA, a clutch of mustard greens and kale and turnip greens and other things I couldn’t identify.  We also had some nice new carrots, and I twisted off their greens (6 times as high in Vitamin C as the roots, plus high in magnesium, potassium, and Vitamin K) and added them to the mix.  I then proceeded with the following simple recipe.  Any mix of dark greens will work.

Ingredients:

  • 1 large bunch of greens
  • 1 can of cannellini beans (or other white bean)
  • 1 bulb garlic
  • 1 jalapeño pepper (or any hot pepper)
  • olive oil & butter
  • salt & pepper
  • cumin
  • 6 tbs of za’atar (more to taste)

Crush the bulb of garlic and divide it between two pots.  In one, add olive oil, the diced jalapeño, and a pat of butter.  In the other, add just a bit of olive oil.  Set the first pot aside. Continue reading

The Dessert Cure: Down in the Dumps Pudding

novel-cure-coverLately, I’ve been hearing a lot about The Novel Cure by Susan Elderkin and Ella Berthoud, a book of literary “prescriptions” to alleviate whatever ails you. I know this sounds a little impulse-buy-at-the front-table-of –Barnes-&-Noble-ish, but two facts caught my attention: 1) the authors do not limit themselves to the illnesses of the mind that you might expect, but also bridge the gap between physical discomfort and psychological panacea (they suggest Shantaram for constipation, for instance), and 2) the book is indexed both by illness and book, for handier use as an actual reference.  I really am going to try their suggestion for “Dinner Parties, Fear of.”

Why don’t we already have something similar for food? There are homeopathic guides, of course, but I’m thinking more of something that would tell me the perfect dish to cure my headache or the muscle strain in Jason’s shoulder. For instance, preparing and eating bibimbop will rid you of hangnails. Actually, that’s not true, but I’m not saying that I want to write this book; I just want to have it at my disposal.

In fact, the only recipe that I could think of that wears its medicinal target baldly on its sleeve is the Down in the Dumps Pudding that my mother used to bake at the end of summer vacation to usher in the first day of school. Though I grew up in the Midwest, this is a very British use of the word pudding–more of a cake, if you ask me. It’s a molten chocolate number that should be eaten hot, so make sure that you’re adequately depressed to take on the whole pan or have some friends around to help you polish it off. Either way, you should feel better by the time it’s gone.

Down in the Dumps Pudding Continue reading

I’ll See Your Rice and Raise You a Lentil: Shannon’s Easy Mujaddara

mujaddara

Did you know that dishes that combine a grain and a legume (like peanut butter sandwiches or, um, mujaddara) offer your body a complete set of proteins?

Whenever we go to Jason’s parents’ house for a holiday, I can rest assured that lurking somewhere in the refrigerator will be a container of mujaddara for us to “snack on.” The quotation marks are necessary, because the container is approximately the size of a bathtub. I chalk up the mammoth proportions to two factors: 1) Bob, Jason’s dad, is immensely fond of the Bosnian guy who owns a restaurant near his company’s offices, and 2) we are a clan that can polish off a vast quantity of the rice and lentil dish with alarming speed.

As delicious as the Richmond holiday version is, it’s not always within easy reach when a mujaddara craving hits, so I recently went hunting for a recipe. There are approximately a zillion floating around the internet (and yes, I’m about to add one more). Because I loathe soggy rice and was concerned about my own ability to time things correctly, I combined a couple versions that called for the rice and lentils to be prepared separately. Even though that probably makes it less traditional, the final product turned out quite well—aromatic and subtle and earthy, a warmly comforting end to a chilly fall day.

Shannon’s Easy Mujaddara

  • 1 cup lentils (any variety will work, but the baby ones are nice)
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 2 cups water, vegetable stock, white wine, or a combination of these
  • 2 cinnamon sticks
  • 1 tablespoon cumin
  • ½ teaspoon allspice
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • 1 cup rice
  • 3 small or 2 medium onions, sliced Continue reading

Masala Peanuts: The Bar Snack of Superpowers if the World Were Fair

Andrew took this photo. We busted out and used chopped cashews and almonds in place of peanuts. Then we destroyed them.

One of my favorite things in the world is Indian food.  I fervently hope that when America stumbles off the World Power pedestal India is there to step up and thus spread its fine, fine cuisine all across the globe.  Of course, I suppose that’s already happening, and if you don’t need to be a superpower, why solicit the headache and guilty conscience?  So maybe India can just keep working what seems to be working.  India, you are badass!  Your food is way better than China’s!!  Gastronomic superpower status is yours for the taking!!!  That’s the idea.

Amongst the grub that confers that badass status is what Shannon calls “Indian savory snacks,” which pretty much consists of something friable fried very, very deeply and smothered in various combinations of mouthwatering spices.  The best we have found is not a savory snack you buy in a package, however, but one you can make easily at home, and one you don’t need to fry the hell out of either.  Witness: masala peanuts.

We were introduced to masala peanuts by the writer Saloni Meghani in Calcutta (or Kolkata, if that’s your political persuasion).  They are apparently widely gnoshed bar food.  I have spend many, many hours – possibly years – in bars, and I can say with complete confidence that every single minute of that time would have been enhanced greatly with masala peanuts at my side.  And it’s not just me.  My brother reeled when I introduced them to him.  He stuffed soup spoonfuls-worth into his maw.  Now, pretty much whenever I visit him, we make a massive batch.  It rarely lasts beyond that evening, even if we make pounds.  It is not unheard of to stand in the fridge in one’s underwear in the middle of the night or in PJs the morning after and continue to crush these nuts.  The Leahey family has written songs about these nuts.  If the Israelites had masala peanuts instead of manna, they would have commanded all of Canaan in four years instead of forty.  The Yahweh of the Old Testament would have been a benevolent rather than jealous god.  The planet could have been a completely different place.  That’s how momentous this shit is. Continue reading

It’s Raining Vegetables. Make a Casserole.

vegetable casserole

All layered up and ready to go in the oven.

August is my favorite month for fresh, local veggies. It’s the time when all the fruit (as in seed-bearing) vegetables like tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant and chili peppers hit the table.  But with everything ripening at once, this time of year can leave both gardeners and cooks feeling like they’re drowning in vegetables. Farmer Dwight (of cabbage fame) has been sending me frequent updates about the massive tomato yields that are currently covering every flat surface in his kitchen. Garrison Keillor used to joke that it’s unwise to leave your car windows down at the end of summer lest you discover a squash in the driver’s seat when you come back, deposited by some overwhelmed gardener.

And this week I found myself trying to exhaust our ample CSA shipment before an impending trip out of town. How many vegetables can you fit in a single dish? To find out, I devised this casserole. It’s true that I had to break my own rule about turning on the oven in hot weather, but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do.

It’s Raining Vegetables Casserole

  • 2 eggplants, sliced
  • 6 plum (or other smallish variety) tomatoes, diced
  • Handful of fresh basil, chopped
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 4 to 8 garlic cloves, sliced
  • 1 chili pepper, diced
  • 2 zucchini, cut into half moons
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 6 oz. muenster or mozzarella cheese, sliced
  • Parmesan cheese to taste Continue reading

Swiss Lentils with Dill and Poached Egg

The writer Carlynn Houghton dropped this on me the other day.  Her name for the dish is Lentils with Dill & Yumminess.  At its core, it’s a simple lentil recipe taken from The Joy of Cooking, but it veers off the expected course in a kind of funky way.

To start: I’ve never considered adding dill to lentils.  When it comes to these legumes, I’ve always been firmly rooted in the gastronomic headspace of the Indian subcontinent and, thanks to Shannon’s creation of a vegetarian Cincinnati Chili, the American Midwest.  I’ve also never considered adding an egg, let alone a poached egg, which is what Carlynn does in this recipe and is what adds the “Swiss” prefix.

I’m fairly “ehh” on poached eggs, but I think they’re fantastic for this recipe.  I usually think of the unexpected egg as something fairly American, as if it primarily takes the form of a hamburger topping that crowns bacon, fried onions, mushrooms, ketchup, mayo, and cheddar cheese.  The fact that the unexpected egg can come at me out of left field from some place as sensible and subdued as Switzerland makes me happy.  It reminds me not to condescend.

Carlynn wrote: My cousin in Switzerland poached an egg and put it on top. This made a delicious lunch with cheese and bread on a table overlooking Lake Geneva and the French Alps. Sadly, my photos are from NYC.

Here are the goods…

Ingredients:

1/3 C. olive oil
1 large onion, minced
1 1/2 C. lentils
5 C. vegetable stock
salt and pepper
1/3 C. finely chopped fresh dill
1 egg

Sauté the onion in the olive oil until golden brown. Add the lentils and stir to coat in oil. Add vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Simmer 60-90 minutes. Add more boiling water if the pot starts to dry out. Poach an egg.  When lentils are tender, season to taste. Remove from heat and stir in the dill.  Gently place egg on top.