no, i am not a foodie; yes, i like food.

If you've read at least a few other entries on this blog, you probably have accepted by now that for me, a good meal need not be presented in the form of Revolution on a Plate. I appreciate the subversive in visual art, in the workplace, and sometimes, in fashion. But when it comes to matters of consumption, I prefer straightforward. I avoid gustatory challenge, even, which explains half of the reason my most savored meal during my two-week tour of Beijing consisted of the four slices of supreme pizza I had at the Papa John's near Zhongguancun. You see, this is why I don't self-identify as 'foodie.' No, I am not a foodie; no, I would not like to try the steak tartare; no, really, please get that frog's leg away from me. No, I am not a foodie; yes, I like food. Please accept me for who I am. I'm not interested in putting snails (despite how buttery you make them), grasshoppers, or even chopped liver (despite your attempt to leverage laws of price perception by putting a $20 price tag on a chopped liver primi piatti) in my mouth.

So yeah, yeah, yeah, you get it: I'm not a risk-taker or -appreciator, even. Instead, my food-related choices are driven by two simple questions: How am I feeling, and what kinds of flavors and textures would either enhance (if I'm feeling good) or reverse (if I'm feeling crummy) my mood? I guess this is some form of emotion-based utilitarianism.

So last Saturday, at around 1 PM when I woke up, I asked myself how I was feeling. My answer: groggy, somewhat disoriented; in a haze. Then, what could I eat to reverse the grog, the disorientation, and the haze? Definitely not a cold bowl of shredded wheat squares. No, the implications of choosing to eat a bowlful of something so mild-mannered could be near fatal, could potentially intensify the haze. I needed something that marked a change from the usual Saturday morning breakfast. Some degree of kick was necessary.

What I ended up eating was very simple and very effective. I had toast topped with a slice of creamy Havarti and a generous amount of a fiery guac. A clove of raw garlic and several slivers of habanero provided the kind of kick I needed. How did I feel after this meal? Inspired, charged, and with complete clarity of mind.

I never eat just for the sake of eating. For me, eating is always purposeful, and meals are always designed to be precise in their effects. I am not a foodie, but that doesn't mean I don't have a food philosophy.

Fiery Guac, Perfect Atop Toast

-ingredients-
1 ripe avocado
1 small handful of finely chopped onion
1 habanero pepper, sliced up into slivers*
1 small clove garlic, minced
1 or 2 wedges of lime

*Note: Be sure to either wear gloves or wrap your fingertips with plastic wrap when handling the habanero. Fiery guac is a good thing; fiery fingertips are not.

-preparation-
1. In a small bowl, mash together the avocado, onion, habanero slivers, and garlic.
2. Squeeze in the juice of 1 or 2 wedges of lime; season with salt and pepper.

too legit to quit

Last Wednesday I hosted a legitimate dinner party. As in, were you to ask any of the 5 people who attended the event how they spent their eveing, I'm quite certain that they'd say, "I went to Merril's dinner party," and not merely, "I had dinner at Merril's." Legitimate. Dinner. Party.

The evening was successful; the menu well-planned. When you are preparing food for people outside of the ring of unconditional love that only your blood relatives can provide, you really need to make sure to choose dishes that you know you do well. Either that, or be prepared to accept criticism with grace. I'm not very capable of the latter, so I always opt for approach #1. In other words, if you've never made coq au vin before, one hour before a dinner party at which your boss will be in attendance does not qualify as an optimal time to make a first attempt. In the words of Biggie Smalls, "Try to keep it as real as possible." What he meant was, if spaghetti and meat sauce is what you do extremely well, serve spaghetti and meat sauce. A 2006 survey found that 8 out of 10 people would prefer a perfectly executed spaghetti and meat sauce to an overcooked and half-rancid lobster tails poached in butter. Go figure.

So last Wednesday, I stuck with what I know, and what I know is relatively difficult to screw up. I made a wild mushroom risotto, but stepped it up by drizzling white truffle oil into it at the end. I pan-seared rib eye steaks, cooked to a perfect medium-rare, and made a silky red wine pan sauce to serve it with. And finally, plain old Breyers vanilla, disguised as something more precious with the help of a homemade blueberry coulis. Legitimate. Dinner. Party.

breaking the silence

For 15 years of my life, I was duped into believing that making frosting from scratch was an abominably difficult thing to do. When I was 10, I convinced my mother to buy me a small tub of Duncan Hines Chocolate Buttercream frosting, 10 minutes after convincing her to buy me a box of yellow cake mix. And over the course of the remaining years of my childhood, my adolescence, and my teenage years, I convinced my mother to buy me many boxes of things like semi-instant scalloped potatoes and fettucine alfredo, assuring her that all of these things would make for very interesting side dishes to pair with her kalbi and pot of kimchi jjigae.

Then I grew up, which meant that I stopped thinking that transforming a cup of boiling water, a small slab of butter, and a boxful of flakes into a steaming pile of mashed potatoes was a very wonderful thing. And even more significantly, I developed a love for reading recipes. I really do believe that most of the people who think that cooking is difficult must have read fewer recipes than those who think that cooking is easy. (Yes of course, there are other obvious factors to consider - e.g. he who reads more recipes is likely to be more interested in cooking and more likely to have put more effort in and/or engaged in cooking more frequently - this is also not a doctoral thesis but a blog.) I'm pretty sure that one of the main reasons why Betty Crocker is still in business and Semi-Homemade with Sandra Lee has any viewers at all is that Betty and Sandra are keeping hush-hush about the fact that many things, including frosting and mashed potatoes, are not difficult at all to make from scratch!

Last week, when I took on the task of making a birthday cake for a very special boy, I made cream cheese frosting, which is both very easy to construct from scratch and very delicious. The below recipe is totally foolproof, so try it, and spread the good word.

Cream Cheese Frosting with Toasted Coconut

Cream cheese frosting is a heart-warming complement to a simple but rich chocolate cake. For my special occasion, I made the Old-Fashioned Chocolate Layer Cake from The New Best Recipe.

-ingredients-
1 8-oz. block cream cheese, room temp.
1 stick unsalted butter, room temp.
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup shredded coconut
1 tablespoon brown sugar

-preparation-
1. In a pan, melt 1/2 tablespoon of butter over medium heat. Add the coconut and brown sugar; stir occasionally until the coconut is toasted and has taken on a deep golden color. Remove coconut from pan and set aside.
2. In a medium bowl, beat butter with a mixer on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add cream cheese, and beat until well-combined and fluffy, about 2 minutes more. Add sugar and vanilla, and beat until combined, about 2 minutes. Fold in coconut.

sweet dreams of pesto

When I hear that someone doesn't like something as faultless as pesto, I must say, I become a little bit concerned about the current and future state of our world. I always thought pesto to have that rare combination of qualities that characterize those things that I like to call “objectively good.” Pesto, puppies, and buy-one-get-one-free offers. Objectively good.

So tonight, something crazy happened. I made a pesto that really is more than just a pesto. Correction: I made a pesto that is more than even a pesto. I made a pesto that I would like to go ahead and call “objectively amazing.” As in, this pesto is so amazing that I have had only a pea-sized amount of it, and I swear to God, that is all that I need. (At any rate, it’s 2:45 in the morning, and eating more than a pea-sized amount of pesto would be even weirder than making pesto at 2:30 in the morning, right?) Really though, I’m not joking! (It really is 2:45 in the morning.) The tiniest bit of that pesto, and the toasty, garlicky charm of the taste it left behind in my mouth, will surely inspire sweet dreams for me tonight.

Objectively Amazing Pesto

This recipe, only slightly adapted, comes from The New Best Recipe, of which I am henceforth devout, devout follower.

-ingredients-
1/4 cup pine nuts
3 medium garlic cloves, unpeeled
2 cups packed fresh basil leaves
1 cup packed fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
7 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
pinch of pepper
few tablespoons grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (optional)

-preparation-
1. Toast the pine nuts in a heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring frequently, until just golden and fragrant, about 5 minutes. Remove nuts from skillet.
2. Add the garlic cloves to the empty skillet. Toast, shaking the pan occasionally, until fragrant and the color of the cloves deepens slightly, about 7 minutes. Let the garlic cool, then peel and roughly chop.
3. Bruise the basil and parsley using a mortar and pestle. Alternatively, put the herbs into a heavy-duty plastic ziploc bag and pound the bag with the flat side of a meat pounder or rolling pin to bruise the leaves.
4. Blend the nuts, garlic, herbs, olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pinch of pepper using a food processor or hand blender. Process until smooth but slightly chunky. (I don't like my pesto totally pureed down.) Mix in Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese if desired.
5. Taste; season more with salt and pepper as desired.







Picture: Cover the pesto's surface with either plastic wrap or a thin layer of olive oil if you want to store it in the fridge for up to 3 days.

the best 36-hour lockdown ever

At around 10 pm on Saturday night, Somi and I were one glass of Syrah down, and it had become very clear to us that we needed a snack. To two Koreans with healthy appetites for both food and drink, this came as no surprise. Koreans even have a word for food eaten as accessory to drink: an-joo. Traditionally, Koreans chase down their soju and bad domestic beer with snacks like dried squid and peanuts, kimchi pancakes, and spicy cod roe stew. Naturally, we would have been happy to pair any of these things with our bottle of Syrah. However, we live in Boston, and these are not the sorts of snacks that just show up on your doorstep when you need them to.

So we went down our list of options. Option #1: Sandwiches from Parish Cafe. Mmm, smoked turkey with bacon, havarti, and cranberry sauce would have been, no doubt, on the level of Divine Revelation. However, getting these sandwiches would have required leaving the building, and that made them much less appealing. Option #2: Buffalo wings from Rock Bottom Brewery, only about a block and a half away. Buffalo wings arguably meet all key an-joo criteria, but did we really want to know what Rock Bottom Brewery gets like on a Saturday night? Ew, most probably not. Also, going there would mean leaving the building. Option #3: A white spinach pizza from Upper Crust, purveyor of the kind of pizza with the kind of toppings (baby clams, portabello mushrooms, eggplant, asiago) that make Bostonians feel warm and fuzzy about themselves. The only problem was, our level of self-awareness is decently high, meaning we knew that we'd probably eat the whole pie between the two of us, and warm and fuzzy we certainly would not be feeling afterwards.

At this point, I peeled myself off the couch and walked over to the kitchen, to see what, if anything, the fridge would yield. Sigh. Wasn't looking good. A lonely block of tofu, a tub of Greek yogurt, a small jar of capers, butter, o.j., 2 leftover andouille sausages, half a pint of grape tomatoes, and an onion. Sigh. And then came the Divine Revelation: 2 leftover sausages, half a pint of grape tomatoes, and an onion?... thrown in a hot pan and jazzed up with some spices, that could be delicious! So that's exactly what we had. I sliced up the sausages and sauteed them with slices of onion, added equal amounts of chili powder, cayenne pepper, cumin, salt, and pepper, and threw in the grape tomatoes near the end. And I have to say, the resulting snack was everything that we were looking for, especially with a bit of ketchup and sriracha on the side. Thank God for lockdowns.

25-y.o. SAF seeks PWD with lots of heart and a mushy center.

Being single is so great. My grocery bills have been slashed in half, laundry day comes around far less often, the toilet seat is never up, and I can watch as many TiVo'ed hours of Martha as I want! I have so much independence now, and I never have to worry that I'm living for someone else, because, well, take a look around: there is no one else. Who are we kidding? Being single can really suck. Even the sunniest of dispositions, when confronted with prolonged solitude, can fall vulnerable to strange and scary behaviors. They can be known to launch into 5-minute-long screamfests when their taxi driver makes one wrong turn, ignore their mother's phone calls, and drink too much at office functions. The dark side.

They let their food blogs go tragically neglected for months, until a well-meaning friend will one day say in a quiet, kind of timid voice, "You might as well start writing again; I mean... what else do you have going on?" (She was kind of right, because this feels good, and that's nearly all that matters at this point.)

Dramatics aside, I am tempted to say that the simple dinner I had tonight just might have saved me. It was easy enough not to have been planned, yet at least flavor-wise, complex and rewarding enough to leave a lasting mark on my tastebuds and tummy. It was the Perfect Weeknight Dinner, the very one that I've been searching for all these years.

Ah. To be single.

Butternut Squash and Pumpkin Ravioli with Butter and Garlic

-ingredients-
Pre-made butternut squash and pumpkin ravioli from Whole Foods (of course, any kind of ravioli will do, and even a plain fresh pasta like fettucine would make for a simple and delicious meal)
1/2 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
10 grape tomatoes
Pinch of salt & pepper

-preparation-
1. Follow the directions to cook your pasta. Mine took about 5 minutes.
2. Once the pasta is cooked, drain the water out of the pot, but leave a few tablespoons of the pasta water behind - it will help get your sauce going.
3. Return the pasta to the pot with the small amount of pasta water over low heat. Add the butter, olive oil, garlic, and Parmiagiano-Reggiano. Stir the pasta around until the butter is melted.
4. Add a pinch of salt and pepper and a light dusting of nutmeg to the pasta.
5. Plate the pasta, and top with halved grape tomatoes.










Picture: Fresh pasta from Whole Foods, a single girl's best friend.

one man's trash is another man's treasure

This morning, I woke up, and my mission was clear. I needed to roast some chicken and eat a leg of it for lunch along with a salad of baby spinach, marinated artichokes, slivers of roasted red peppers, grape tomatoes, cucumbers, and dried cranberries. You do not ignore a mission like this, especially not when you know that this lunch will be approximately the only good thing to happen to you over the course of the imminent workday.

The beautiful thing about roasting poultry is that it is extremely easy, and once you are done with the roasting, you happen to be in a very good position to make something that tastes like something you would eat at a nice restaurant with handsome and well-mannered waiters in addition to 15-dollar glasses of Petit Syrah. Yes, you guessed it! I am talking about gravy. And what makes this gravy-yielding technique even more wonderful is that cleaning my roasting pan would have been ten times more difficult if I had had to try to get all those brown bits off with a sponge and dish soap.

However, you really cannot extend the same logic / apply the same approach to every situation in which you find little brown bits clinging to a surface. When in doubt, use your brain. Or call me. Or ask WikiAnswers; they seem to know a lot. That could be decently funny though: imagine scanning the menu at your favorite restaurant and seeing, "Grilled rack of lamb with reduction of red wine and residue from last night's dinner plates." An avant-garde restaurant in Boulder, Colorado once had such a menu offering and only one out of six food critics who reviewed the otherwise irreproachable eatery pronounced the entree to even be edible!

Many people derive a certain pleasure from watching their gravy reduce down until it is about as thick as Greek yogurt. I realize that I'm not into that. I prefer cooking it down until it is thick enough to be called a gravy by some, but also thin enough to be called a jus by others. (Just so I don't mislead anyone, among a sample of 100 study participants, it was in fact found that only 15 participants used the word "gravy" in their description of what they saw; the other 85 used the word "jus.")

I'm actually not sure what I'm going to do with my gravy-jus. I could always pour it straight over a nice hunk of the chicken I roasted this morning, but I could also whisk some cream into it over the stove and then pour it over a nice hunk of the chicken I roasted. Or I could saute a nice mix of wild mushrooms in a saucepan, pour some of the gravy-jus in, let it cook down a bit, and serve alongside a small, tender steak. Or I could saute a nice mix of wild mushrooms in a saucepan, pour some of the gravy-jus in, whisk some cream into it, and dump the creamy mushroomy chickeny goodness over a plate of fresh pasta. Ooh. Mmm. I think I will stop there, because that one sounds like a winner.

Simple Roast Chicken with Gravy-Jus

Note: This is not a very precise recipe, but before you start badmouthing the blog, please understand that roasting chicken is not like running a DNA microassay. Trust me, it's okay to let yourself relax here.

-ingredients-
Some chicken (legs, breasts, or if you are feeling like a rockstar, the whole bird)
Some herb(s) (I used dry thyme, but rosemary is quite nice with chicken too)
Some olive oil
Some low sodium chicken broth (the amount really depends on the size of your roasting pan – just keep pouring until all brown bits are concealed and the broth is about 1 cm deep) – for my 9x13 roasting pan, I used approx. 2/3 cup
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
Some pinches of salt for the chicken
Some pinches of salt for the gravy-jus (this amount depends on the amount of chicken broth you are using, of course) – for my 2/3 cup of broth, I threw in about 2 big pinches

-preparation-

Phase 1: Roast your chicken. (if you're in rockstar mode and are doing a whole bird, i'd recommend taking a pointer or two from Martha)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Trim the chicken of any excess fat and rinse it under cold water. Pat dry with paper towels.
3. Put the chicken in your roasting pan and coat with olive oil. Season generously with salt and pepper on both sides, and also give both sides a good sprinkle of whatever herb(s) you are using.
4. Cook chicken in your 400-degree oven for about 25 minutes. Then reduce the temperature to 350 and cook for another 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, stick a knife in the chicken. If the juices run clear, your chicken is done.
*At this point, if you are me, you will put one leg of the chicken in a container and the rest in your refrigerator. You will leave the roasting pan with its brown bits in the oven, because you are late for work. You will then grab your chicken leg, along with some greens, and you will rush downstairs, where your cab should be waiting for you. Or so you hope.

Phase 2: Make your gravy-jus.

1. After you've taken the chicken out of the pan, pour in some chicken broth, and use a plastic or wooden spatula to scrape all of the brown bits off the surface of the pan.
2. Put the panful of broth with brown bits suspended into your 350-degree oven. Let it sit in there for a few minutes, then remove the pan. (If you aren't me and you didn't leave the pan to ist in your oven all day and you were able to easily scrape all the brown bits off of the pan, skip this step.)
3. Pour the broth and brown bits into a saucepan; bring to simmer.
4. Whisk in 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of flour. Season with salt and pepper.
5. Allow the broth to reduce down for about 5 minutes until slightly thickened, whisking occasionally.











Picture: Ready to reduce.













Picture: We're almost there.

after the fact.

It's 93 degrees outside, and how do I decide to spend the afternoon? Eating steaming bowlful after bowlful of southern greens in a spicy andouille-infused broth, of course! In the spirit of full disclosure (all bloggers are required to take an oath), and since recent themes in this blog have included Baring of Soul, I will also tell you that after the second bowlful, I disrobed. There was no other way.

Also after the second bowlful, I realized, I HAVE to tell someone about this. I made something good. I could eat this until my 4 pm yoga class. (It was about noon then.) And then I panicked: Who was I going to call first?? second?? third??? And then another, this time, anxiety-quelling, realization: I have a food blog. I can write about this there.

So this is a rare exercise in spontaneity for me. Some of these photos don't have extreme visual appeal, and I can already feel your skepticism. Stop it. Collard greens, mustard greens, turnip greens, they are all actually very delicious things. You know, opening your mind a bit wouldn't kill you. Sheesh.

And for those of you for whom 'pungency' is a dirty word, stop it. Pungency gets a really bad rap, but pungency is a natural and beautiful thing. Embrace pungency. And embrace this dish, even if it is really damn hot outside and it makes you sweat like Andre Agassi. It really is delicious.

Southern Greens in a Spicy Andouille-infused Broth

The sun shines on my bowlful of southern greens.

-ingredients-
1 carrot, peeled and finely chopped
1 onion, sliced longitudinally into strips
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 andouille sausages, roughly cut up (if you must know, I cut each sausage longitudinally into 2 halves and then cut each half up into pieces about 1/2-cm thick)
1 lb of collard greens and/or mustard greens and/or turnip greens and/or spinach (the bag of "Southern Greens" I bought at Trader Joe's consisted of a perfect pre-washed blend of all of these)
3 cups low sodium chicken broth (more if "spicy andouille-infused broth" sounds delicious to you; less if it doesn't)
1 tablespoon vinegar (any kind other than balsalmic would be fine)
Hot sauce (I found this to be an appropriate condiment for this dish, but suit yourself if you don't agree)

-preparation-
1. In a large pot, saute the first 3 ingredients with a big pinch of salt in olive oil over medium-high heat for about 3 minutes. Then add the sausage and saute for another 3 minutes.
2. Add the greens to the pot; let the greens wilt down a bit, for about 3 minutes. You will need to keep flipping the greens so that it wilts down at least somewhat evenly.
3. First add 2 cups of chicken broth; flip the greens in the broth for a few minutes. Add the vinegar. Stop and assess. Add more broth if it looks like you could use a bit more.
4. Let the greens cook down for about 5-7 more minutes.
5. Taste; add more salt as desired.











Picture: Guilty as charged.








Picture: Montage of southern greens, baby fern, and industrial vista.










Picture: These leftovers will be very good eaten on the next day that is rainy.

a handsome boy indeed

Do you ever find yourself wishing that people were sandwiches? Sure I like tall, dark, and handsome as much as anyone, but I just might like prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, and sundried tomato even better. I understand, really, I do, that there are certain things in life that a person can provide that a sandwich cannot. I'm not saying that we should live in isolation with snapshots of sandwiches occupying photo frames instead of people. I'm also not recommending that we break up with our significant others over a sandwich. That is a bad idea. And of course, a sandwich would never ask you to do that for it anyway. Your sandwich won't even care who you went out with on Saturday night, or even what other sandwich you had for lunch. Sandwiches, you should know, don't even believe in monogamy!

I love sandwiches of all shapes and sizes, from lands remote and lands near. Every so often, however, you will meet a sandwich that will change your life. A sandwich like this can be very dangerous, can inspire you as if at gunpoint to leave your job, take out a small business loan, and devote the rest of your living days to making sandwiches.

For me, this sandwich was the good-looking fellow in the photo above. He is the equivalent of a blue-ribbon cow, or a Slavic beauty queen. This is a sandwich you will want to make friends with. Some sandwiches, like some people, really were meant to be adored.

Make this sandwich. Love him. Cherish him. For he is a handsome boy indeed.

Roasted Turkey on Whole Wheat with Aged Cheddar, Apple Butter, and Caramelized Raisins (AKA "The Best Friend")

-ingredients-
Slices of roasted turkey
Aged cheddar cheese
Granny Smith apple
1 handful of raisins
Apple butter (so far, we really like the one made by a company called American Spoon)
2 thick slices of whole wheat bread (if you can, go all the way and get a loaf from a good bakery!)
Romaine lettuce

-preparation-
1. Preheat your broiler on the low setting, if it has one.
2. Thinly slice as much of the apple as you would like on your sandwich.
3. Put as much cheese as you would like on your sandwich on one slice of bread. Sprinkle raisins on top, and put in the broiler, once it is ready. Toast the other slice of bread.
4. After about 2 minutes, or until the cheese has become sufficiently melty, remove the slice of bread from the broiler. Spread apple butter onto the other slice of now toasted bread.
5. Assemble sandwich with remaining ingredients and enjoy!







Picture: This is what a nice Granny Smith apple looks like. Try to find one that resembles this one.














Picture: Step 4 - caramelized raisins.













Picture: Step 4 - apple butter time.













Picture: Step 5.

table for one

I could give you at least a dozen relatively convincing for why this blog has been a dead, cold animal for so many months now. At the top of the list: (*inhale*) I broke up with my boyfriend and have not felt like spending over 30 minutes on a meal for one was justified (*exhale*). All I can say is that the trauma of a breakup can have very transformative powers.

Even while preparing this meal, while listening to the Cibo Matto song on a mix Parsiri made for me, I found myself repeatedly doing a mental scan of my list of contacts in my phone. Was I really going to eat this meal by myself?

And then it hit me: having a significant other is not a prerequisite to eating good food. (Note-taking here not required, but strongly encouraged.) One can buy $10.99/lb roasted yellow tomatoes, small bottles of truffle oil, and stinky artisanal cheeses all for oneself. (Much has changed since we last spoke; notably, I am now possessing of Job... or perhaps more accurately, Job possesses me.)

The point is, single people very often ascribe their laziness in their kitchens to their solitary states. They eat large amounts of edamame and microwaved slabs of tofu for dinner. On good days, they will dump half a jar of Ragu onto a plate of spaghetti, but rarely do they feel so deserving.

So there you have it. I just enjoyed a wonderful meal of grilled chicken with roasted yellow tomatoes, mashed potatoes with goat cheese, and roasted asparagus, and let me tell you, I feel better already.

Red Potato Mash with Goat Cheese

-ingredients-
1 pound red boiling potatoes
1 tablespoon butter
3 tablespoons sour cream
3 tablespoons creamy goat cheese (I like to use Chavrie)
3 cloves roasted garlic
1 tablespoon green onion, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon dry thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

-preparation-
1. Roughly cut potatoes into 1-inch cubes. Cook potatoes in boiling salted water until tender, about 10 minutes.
2. Drain potatoes; transfer to mixing bowl.
3. Add butter to bowl; allow potatoes to cool slightly, for a few minutes.
4. While potatoes are cooling, roughly mash roasted garlic using a mortar and pestle (or a fork) so that you almost have a paste. (If you are making the asparagus below, you can simply throw the garlic cloves into one corner of your roasting pan and take them out after about 5 minutes and they'll be good to go!)
5. Add mashed garlic to bowl, along with remaining ingredients. Use a potato masher to mash; serve.












Picture: Roasted garlic, not mashed.













Picture: Roasted garlic, mashed.



Easy Roasted Asparagus

-ingredients-
1 bunch of asparagus, ends trimmed
1 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

-preparation-
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Put asparagus in a rimmed sheet or roasting pan. Drizzle with olive oil; add salt and pepper. Move the pan from side to side a bit so that all of the asparagus spears are coated.
3. Roast until just tender, about 12 minutes.

if life hands you lemons, make lemonade

It seems only appropriate that a recipe demonstrating the gratuitousness (sometimes) of fresh herbs be followed by one demonstrating the greatness that can be achieved with dry herbs. Using dry rosemary really does not make you a bad person. Really. Though I think there are some herbs for which the freshness factor really is key (basil, for one), sometimes, I've decided, using a dry herb doesn't compromise all that much.

As I've said before, so often the joy of cooking is taking whatever you've got and making something tasty out of it. Quick rummaging through the fridge yesterday found me half a sack of red potatoes, garlic, and some butter. And conveniently, the apartment my boyfriend is subletting this summer came outfitted with a very comprehensive collection of dry spices and herbs. So what did I make? Red potatoes with garlic, butter, and dry thyme, naturally.

Red Potatoes with Garlic, Butter, and Dry Thyme

-ingredients-
1 pound small red boiling potatoes
1/2 tablespoon butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dry thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

-preparation-
1. Cut potatoes into 1-inch cubes. Cook potatoes in boiling salted water until just tender, about 8-10 minutes.
2. Drain potatoes; transfer to bowl.
3. Add remaining ingredients to bowl and toss.

bruschetta for the people

After reading certain kinds of recipes, I am left feeling compelled to engage in grade-B criminal activity. Especially recipes for bruschetta. (You may think you're on to me and my witty wordplay of the day, but no, no, I'm not saying I love bruschetta enough to kill for it!) So many recipes for bruschetta, like so many recipes for crab cakes and ravioli filling, call for bits and smidgeons of way too many fresh herbs. Now don't get me wrong. I love fresh herbs, and for recipes that call for an array of herbs by the cupfuls, I'm all for it. But I'm unemployed, and really, I'll be damned if I ask my dad to pay my credit card bill again just to cover fresh herb expenses. That said, I am not going to rip off a few leaves here and a few leaves there from the bunches of herbs at the grocery store. It's beneath me, and I won't do it. What I will do is say 'no' to always following recipes, because I have learned over these recent trying times, that there's always room for empowerment of one's own mind and culinary instincts. And because following rules is boring. AND, because the unemployed should have their bruschetta too!

One-Herb Bruschetta

-ingredients-
4 red but firm plum tomatoes (other kinds of tomatoes are more likely to be mealier, and a mealy tomato is never as offensive as when in bruschetta)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 lemon's juice (I like very lemony bruschetta; if you don't, add less.)
1/4 cup fresh basil, roughly chopped
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 baguette

-preparation-
1. Cut plum tomatoes into small dice. Put diced tomatoes in a bowl.
2. Add remaining ingredients to bowl, mixing them into tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Let tomato mixture sit, covered, on countertop for at least 1 hour.
4. Cut baguette into 1/2-inch slices; toast.
5. When ready, top toasts with tomato mixture and serve.













Picture: Step 3.

the mysterious world of ban chan

Reliance on recipes, to me, is a very American thing. Korean women don't own measuring cups or spoons. You might think that this would leave a large margin for error. Call them crazy, call them reckless, call them geniuses. My great aunt's bin dae dduk (mung bean pancake) always tastes the same. My mom's jang jo rim (salty brisket) always tastes the same. My own oyee kimchi (cucumber kimchi) always tastes the same, for God's sake! It's amazing in the same way that it's amazing that a Pizza Hut pan pizza will taste just as it did when you were 7, if you dare try a slice of it now. Except, of course, unlike Pizza Hut, Korean women seek no guidance beyond what they might have seen their mothers do, or what their instincts tell them. They invoke the mysterious world of ban chan (side dishes)... (I'm in a very dramatic mood today if you haven't noticed.)

Okay, back to Earth. Because we weren't all lucky enough to be born Korean women, I thought I'd share with you recipes for two of my favorite ban chan, both of which you will see are very simple. So there you have it. The secret's out. Korean women may not use recipes, but that's only because there really isn't much to it. Enjoy!

Spicy, Sweet, and Sour Oyee Kimchi

*Note: A few of the below ingredients can only be found in Asian markets; they are denoted with an asterisk and shown in the photo following the recipe.

-ingredients-
5 pickling cucumbers (also called kirby cucumbers)
1 tablespoon salt
1/4 cup white vinegar
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes (not the American kind)*
1 1/2 tablespoons red pepper paste*
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil

-preparation-
1. Slice cucumbers laterally so that they are no more than 1/4 centimeter thick. (Basically, slice them to be as thin as possible without endangering your digits!)
2. Put cucumber slices in a bowl and sprinkle salt over them. Mix the cucumber slices around so salt is evenly distributed. Let cucumber slices sit for at least 15 minutes.
3. Add all remaining ingredients. Toss cucumber slices to evenly distribute ingredients.
4. Taste; add more salt/vinegar/garlic/sugar as desired.













Picture: Step 1.












Picture: Red Pepper Paste (left), Red Pepper Powder (right).



Kong Na Mool Moo Chim (Garlicky Bean Sprouts)

-ingredients-
1 12-oz package bean sprouts (sold at Whole Foods and most other supermarkets)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
3 cloves garlic, minced

-preparation-
1. Bring a medium or large pot of water to rapid boil. Add bean sprouts and cook for only about 1-2 minutes, stirring.
2. Once sprouts are barely cooked through but still crisp, remove from water and rinse once with cold water. Put sprouts in mixing bowl.
3. Add salt, pepper, and garlic. Taste; season more with salt and pepper as desired.

leftover leftover chili

There is one thing about me as a cook that often makes me even more proud than my modest culinary accomplishments: I rarely throw food away. I guess the fact that I am currently not working (and thus have the luxury to grocery shop everyday, sometimes more than once a day) and the fact that I am only cooking for myself and two others (and thus never feel the need to buy in bulk) help me out. At any rate, I would like to present as an example of my stunningly utilitarian resourcefulness, Leftover Leftover Chili.

The leftover ingredients that contributed to this chili are as follows: yellow cornmeal (from last week's birthday polenta), beef broth (from the porcini mushroom sauce for last week's birthday polenta), ground beef (from my roommate's Hamburger Helper), and cilantro (from last night's guacamole).

The easiest way to figure out a good way to use leftover ingredients is to go to Epicurious and search for a recipe that includes whatever you need to get rid of. Here's to never throwing away leftover ingredients again! Cheers.

Leftover Leftover Chili

This recipe will feed 6 to 8 people. This chili is particularly delicious when eaten the next day, as leftovers.

-ingredients-
2 pounds lean ground beef
2 large onions, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
5 tablespoons chili powder
3 tablespoons canned chipotle chilies in adobo sauce, chopped
2 cups kidney beans
2 cups red beans
2 cups canned diced tomatoes, with their juice
3 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoons pepper
2 cups beef broth
1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1 lime's juice

-preparation-
1. Saute beef and onions in a large heavy pot until beef is browned, about 10 minutes. Make sure to break up beef as it cooks.
2. Add garlic, chili powder, chipotle chilies, kidney beans, red beans, tomatoes, salt, and pepper; stir about 2 minutes.
3. Add beef broth to pot and bring to boil. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
4. Add cilantro (reserving some for garnish, if desired) and lime juice. Reduce heat and allow chili to simmer for about 1 hour, partially covered and stirring occasionally.
5. Serve with grated cheese, dollop of sour cream, and/or garnish of cilantro on top, as desired.














Picture: Step 3.

porkopolis

There's more to Boston than tea parties, clam chowder, and the Red Sox. There are pork chops. I know, seems strange, right? I would be inclined to associate pork chops with a town more like... Omaha? No, that's where bad steaks fly in from. Des Moines? (the answer is actually Smithfield, VA)

Today, walking around the South End of Boston in search of food-related employment, I probably read close to 30 menus, and about 20 of them included a pork chop dish. Grilled Berkshire pork chop at The Beehive, another Berkshire pork chop at Sorellina, honey brined crunchy pork chop at Pops... So what was for dinner tonight? Pork chops. My own special kind.

Balsamicky Pork Chops

This recipe will feed 4 people.

-ingredients-
4 center-cut top loin bone-in pork chops (1 for each person)
1 large sweet onion, sliced lengthwise into strips
15 crimini mushrooms, sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
1 tablespoon unsalted butter

-preparation-
1. Pat pork dry. Season with 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon pepper.
2. Heat oil in heavy large saucepan on moderately high heat. Once oil is hot but not smoking, put pork chops in pan. After about 3 minutes, turn pork over and add onion and mushrooms to pan; cook for another 3 minutes.
3. Remove pork from pan. Add vinegar, sugar, rosemary sprigs, and remaining salt and pepper to pan, stirring onion and mushrooms. Cook until sugar is dissolved and sauce is slightly thickened, about 2 minutes.
4. Remove rosemary and return pork to pan, turning a few times to coat with sauce. Allow pork to cook through in pan, about 3 minutes.
5. Remove pork from pan and increase heat. Bring sauce to boil; allow to thicken, about 2 minutes. Melt in butter.
6. Drizzle sauce over pork and serve.














Picture: Step 4.

my first post for my first risotto

Today I made my first pot of risotto. I've cooked many things before, but I wanted to wait until all conditions felt just right to try my hand at something more complicated than my usual go-to's: stir fry with oyster sauce, spaghetti bolognese, bulgogi. Today, things felt right. I had 18 nice plump shrimp twiddling their thumbs in my refrigerator, prize-winning Caruso tomatoes from the farmer's market, and a small tub of very fresh fresh mozzarella. Okay, so there wasn't really the spontaneity that I had earlier implied. Yesterday, I felt that the next day, today, would be a good day to try making risotto. I slept like a baby, with dreams of the imminent mission.

Making risotto is a lot easier if you have a boyfriend with strong arms. My boyfriend's arm strength was put to the test twice today, in fact. Test #1: kayaking. Every 3 minutes or so, the muscles in my arms would get very melty around my bones, and David would have to make up for my girlish incompetence. Test #2: stirring the risotto. For about 25 minutes, David ladled hot chicken+vegetable (I did a 2:1 chicken:vegetable broth ratio) into the pot of would-be risotto, stirred it vigorously (I didn't actually know what level of vigor would be appropriate, so I decided to order a very vigorous stir) until all of the broth was absorbed, ladled more broth in, stirred it vigorously...

The result? A very, very good knock-off of Risoterria's Shrimp, Mozzarella & Tomato risotto, which they price at $16.55. I'm smiling that smile that turns up on the faces of those who have cheated - valiantly, astutely, imaginatively - the system.

Make it yourself; trust that you will be smiling the smile in just 45 short minutes.

Risotto with Garlicky Shrimp, Mozzarella, Asparagus, & Tomato (a very, very good knock-off)

This recipe will feed 4 people.

-ingredients-
4 cups vegetable broth
2 cups chicken broth
1 pound uncooked large shrimp, peeled, deveined
6 large cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 cups arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup 1-inch pieces thin asparagus
1 1/2 cup chopped plum tomatoes
3 ounces fresh mozzarella, cut into small chunks
3/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil

-preparation-
1. Combine both broths in a medium saucepan and bring to simmer. Reduce heat to low and cover.
2. In a pan, melt 1 tablespoon butter with 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil over medium-high heat. Add shrimp, 3 cloves minced garlic, crushed red pepper; season with salt and pepper. Cook until shrimp have just turned pink, about 3 minutes. Transfer shrimp to bowl with juices.
3. Heat remaining 2 tablespoons in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add chopped onion and saute until golden and tender, about 5 minutes. Add remaining minced garlic and stir 1 minute.
4. Add rice to onions; stir about 3 minutes.
5. Add wine; simmer until almost all liquid is absorbed while stirring often.
6. Add hot broth 1 cup at a time, allowing rice to absorb broth before each addition, stirring often.
7. When about 2 cups broth are left, add asparagus and chopped tomatoes.
8. When 1 cup broth left, add shrimp (with cooking juices) and last cup broth.
9. Cook, still stirring often, until rice is tender but still firm to bite and mixture is creamy overall. Once this has been achieved, add mozzarella chunks. Stir until all chunks have melted into risotto.
10. Remove from heat. Add parmesan cheese and 2 tablespoons butter. Stir until cheese and butter melt.
11. Sprinkle chopped basil and drizzle a bit of extra-virgin olive oil on top of each bowl of risotto. Serve, along with additional grated parmesan.