Category Archives: Food

This past St. Patrick Day’s weekend, our friend JoAnn was in town, and we went as far from Ireland as possible, creating a Thai dinner that began with a Siam Sunray and ended with coconut cake and slices of pineapple and mango. In between was my first attempt at a vegetarian Pad Thai (that turned out rather well) and Andy’s always-excellent yellow chicken curry. Plated up with some jasmine rice, it was a filling meal, perhaps at slight odds with the green and orange insanity surrounding such classic events as the ‘Kegs and Eggs’ parties going on around the world. (Lord knows what state the condo will be in after my brother spent the weekend there.) For our part, we kept it clean and relatively-well-behaved. When you have the company of good friends, there’s less of a need to go completely crazy.

We began with the requisite cocktail – in this case the aforementioned Siam Sunray – which had just enough of a red chili pepper bite to keep us warm, and a citrus-shaded tempering of lemongrass and Kaffir lime leaves to keep it fresh. JoAnn had asked about a red pepper dip I made a while ago, so I had that on hand too. It was actually a Red Pepper Relish, to which I added cream cheese to turn it into a dip. (When in doubt, add cream cheese and you can call just about anything a dip. If you want, you can substitute plain yogurt for one of the cream cheese packages for a slightly healthier version, which is what I did this time.) The recipe follows:

Red Pepper Relish Dip

{The key to this recipe is the cooking time: you cannot rush it. Set a timer for the half hour, and let it boil that entire time, stirring occasionally. When it’s done, the consistency should have changed remarkably, at which point you can turn it down and add the cream cheese and yogurt. The amount of red pepper flakes is up to you, but this is meant to be a hot dish, so don’t wimp out.}

Ingredients

• 2 red bell peppers, chopped
• 1 sweet onion, peeled and chopped
• 1 cup white wine vinegar or rice vinegar
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 2 packages cream cheese, softened at room temperature

Directions

In a medium saucepan over medium heat, mix together red bell peppers, onion, white wine/rice vinegar, sugar and crushed red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to strong simmer. Stirring occasionally, cook 30 minutes, or until thickened. Turn down heat and add cream cheese until combined. Pour into baking dish and serve while hot. It can be refrigerated and heated up at a later time – it can also be served cold, but will be much thicker and more difficult to spread. It works well on pita chips or whole wheat crackers, but any serviceable carrying-craft will do.

In our house, we do a lot of things from scratch, but pasta isn’t one of them. And if Trader Joe’s is going to offer lobster ravioli already made, why even bother feeling guilty about it? For this simple dish, the woman at the register gave me the idea of using a lobster bisque as the base for a cream sauce, and, after arming Andy with the information, I set the dinner plan into motion. For my part, I did the lemon zest garnish, which, in my self-serving opinion, truly makes this dish. Okay, Andy’s excellent cream sauce with its lobster bisque richness, aided in putting it over-the-top. The best thing he ever learned was how to make a white cream sauce.

To counteract my dismal dahl doings (and combat a few days of the dreadful BRAT diet), this is a successful kitchen creation story with a super happy ending. While laid up with the nasty stomach flu, I tortured myself by watching the Food Network and seeing all the things I couldn’t eat. (It’s a little thing I do.) On ‘The Barefoot Contessa’ (is she even a real Contessa? What is a real Contessa anyway?) Ina was having some of her favorite chefs give out the recipes for what they liked to cook after a day of hard work at their respective restaurants – so these were supposed to be good, but relatively quick and easy. Chef Julia Turschen explained her Kimchi fried rice dish that looked so good, and simple, I knew I’d have to try it as soon as my stomach allowed.

Here is the recipe – it worked so well you just need to follow it word for word:

Kimchi Fried Rice with Fried Egg

• 5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

• 1/4 cup finely chopped yellow onion

• 1 small garlic clove, finely minced

• Coarse salt

• 1/2 cup finely chopped very sour kimchi

• 1 teaspoon soy sauce

• 1 cup day-old cooked rice, at room temperature

• 1 very good egg

• 1 scallion, white and light green parts only, very thinly sliced

• 1 generous pinch coarse Korean chili powder

Directions:

Heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring now and then, until the onions begin to soften and just begin to brown, about 10 minutes. Turn the heat to high and add the kimchi and cook for 2 or 3 minutes until it begins to crisp on the edges. Add the soy sauce and rice and stir thoroughly to combine. Cook until the rice is warmed through and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes. Transfer the rice to a warm, shallow bowl and set aside.

Wipe the skillet clean with a paper towel and add 2 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan and return it to the stove set over high heat. Crack the egg into the skillet, sprinkle it with a pinch of salt and immediately cover the pan with a lid. Cook until the egg white is cooked through and the yolk is barely set. Slip a spatula underneath the egg and transfer it on top of the rice. Scatter the scallion over the dish and sprinkle with the chili powder. Eat immediately, being sure to break the yolk and let is act like a sauce over the rice.

I doubled the recipe (if I’m going to invest the time and effort into cooking something, it better damn well feed more than one person at one sitting), and went a little heavier on the rice (about three cups, cooked) because I wasn’t sure how much heat I could take (kimchi is no joke). It was said by the chef that kimchi totally changes once it is cooked – and this proved true. When it first hit the pan, I wasn’t sure. That initial aroma is intense, and some might find it off-putting, but after a few minutes it transforms into pure goodness, and by the time the rice is added it all comes together in almost-miraculous alchemy.

The double dose of fried egg was killer – and this dish is all about that fried egg topper. (I sent the recipe to Suzie, who tried it before I could, what with a working intestinal track and all, and she agreed that it was the egg that sent it spinning.) I used cayenne pepper for the Korean chili powder and it seemed to work just as well, if a little less coarse. Don’t skip out on the scallions either – they’re much more than a simple garnish here. All in all, this is one supreme recipe that even Andy enjoyed. (And he’s not easy to please.)

Everyone said dahl would be an easy recipe – and it was. The problem may be that I just don’t like it. Some might joke that I don’t know my way around the kitchen – and if you’re talking about making pancakes from scratch without the aid of something like Bisquick, you’re right. (And, okay, I occasionally forget that the stove-top is on until the smoke alarm goes off, and some things have unintentionally burned – NEVER food though, just pans or cork trivets or plastic ladels). But for most everything else, I’m pretty damn serviceable. If you’ve graduated from high school, you should be able to follow a recipe. (Those are always my famous last words before a cooking disaster.)

Sometimes though, either the recipe is off, or mistakes are made, or a lack of professional training comes in as far as flavoring and tasting goes. I’m going to blame the recipe this time. I wanted to make a simple dahl. I got the recipe online (which is always going to be a crap-shoot no matter how many stars or reviewers have glowingly rated it) and I liked it because it did away with the coconut milk.

In this case, the taste was just off. Well, maybe not off so much as unimpressive. It reminded me a little bit, in its blandness, of the mung bean dish that I used to try, and hate, at family dinners. Maybe that’s what dahl tastes like, but with all the spices involved (coriander, cardamom, turmeric, cumin, cayenne, cinnamon, and fresh ginger) I expected more. At that point, I could have added a ton of salt and pepper, but that always seems like cheating to me. If a recipe’s no good without having to add a shitload of salt to it, then the recipe’s no good. This one was bland, and bad.

Never one to dismiss anything before it’s plated up properly, I poured the dahl over some rice. It looked good. It looked hearty. It looked like how I wanted it to look. Unfortunately, it still tasted the same. If anything, it was more disappointing because the appearance was so at odds with the lack of flavor. I was bummed. Andy was kind and blamed it on the recipe. I chalked it to up to a failure not quite on a par with pancakes from scratch, but a waste nonetheless. However, my next cooking adventure would prove far more successful…

Here’s a fun little thing I did on a recent day off from work, while stricken with that nasty stomach flu and on a strict BRAT diet of bananas, rice, applesauce and toast: I watched the Food Network. My favorite was the ‘Barefoot Contessa.’ Watching Ina Garten and her husband Jeffrey share a picnic of California BLTs (with avocado, thank you) on the docks of Montauk while waiting for Andy to get back with Gatorade from the local Price Chopper was my number one highlight. Seeing her tell Jeffrey that she was “ready to rock and roll,” and then calling him “babe” was a close second. They were laughing at me, I know it.

After the Contessa, that buffoon Paula Deen had a kid from the Disney channel on (Kenton Duty). Could the nightmare get any worse? Yes, because the precocious fuck soon began singing a song he wrote for her. Accompanied by himself on the guitar.

[Sigh] – I’m going back to my banana.

I thought our Mexican weekend had ended, but once in a while you extend the fun into Sunday morning. JoAnn usually does a big breakfast at some point during her visits, but we had done so much already, it didn’t look likely. However, I had some purple potatoes that needed to be used, so I popped them in some olive oil and salt and pepper, roasting them to a tender crisp. I asked Andy, half-jokingly, to prepare us a few Mexican omelettes, not expecting him to do so. JoAnn and I sat in the living room while the potatoes cooked.

To our surprise and delicious delight, Andy had scraped together the leftover vegetables from the previous eve’s fajitas, and conjured a perfect Mexican omelette, with a side of purple potatoes and a piece of jalapeno cornbread. It was the perfect ending to a pretty perfect weekend. To ease the pain of her leaving, we made plans for the next rendezvous, and a date for the Summer of Love 60’s Party. It helps to look forward to something, especially if the summer is involved.

Like so many other tidbits of integral knowledge, I first heard of Harvey Wallbanger from an episode of ‘The Golden Girls.’ (There is much I have learned solely through Golden Girl episodes). In this one, Sophia’s friend was waiting for her at a bar and was drinking a Harvey Wallbanger. “Seeing a lot of Mr. Wallbanger lately, aren’t you?” Years later, for our most recent holiday party in fact, my friend Scott made a Harvey Wallbanger cake, and suddenly I was sold. Making use of that bastion of 70’s liqueur – Galliano – some vodka, and fresh orange juice, this is one sweet and moist cake. I liked Scott’s version enough to try it on my own, and with the exception of the Galliano and some pudding mix, we already had all the ingredients on hand. If it’s easy enough for me to handle, you can handle it too. The recipe follows:

Harvey Wallbanger Cake Recipe

Ingredients:

Cake:

1 box (about 18.75 ounces) yellow cake mix

1 cup vegetable oil

4 large eggs

1/4 cup Galliano liqueur

1/4 cup vodka

1 package (3-ounces) vanilla instant pudding mix

3/4 cup fresh orange juice

Glaze:

1 cup sifted powdered sugar

1 Tablespoon fresh orange juice

1 Tablespoon Galliano

1 teaspoon vodka

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 350 F. Grease and flour a Bundt pan or spray with floured vegetable spray.

Place cake mix, oil, eggs, liqueur, vodka, pudding mix, and orange juice into a large mixing bowl. Beat on medium speed for 2 minutes.

Pour evenly into prepared Bundt pan and tap gently on the counter to release any air bubbles. Bake for 45 to 50 minutes. A toothpick inserted in the center should come out clean. (Do not overbake or it will become dry.) Let rest for 5 minutes. Gently loosen edges around the rims with a thin rubber spatula. Invert and unmold from Bundt pan onto a cake platter, then glaze while warm.

For the glaze, mix powdered sugar, orange juice, liqueur, and vodka until smooth. (If it is too thick, add more orange juice a few drops at a time to get a drizzling consistency. If it is too thin, add more powdered sugar a teaspoon at a time.) Drizzle over the warm cake and let cool to room temperature for glaze to set.

These Baby Yukon Gold potatoes look better than any other potato I’ve ever baked, thanks to a nifty trick culled from the Barefoot Contessa again. Ina Garten found this method of preparing the tubers while in London, and it adds a delicate flair to an otherwise simple and hearty side dish. It’s quite simple – you skim off the bottom of a potato so it stands solidly without rocking. Then you cut almost to the bottom in 1/8 inch slices, so that the potato stays intact, but sliced. Coat in olive oil and a mixture of rosemary, salt and pepper, working both oil and spices in between each slice. Bake at 425 for about half an hour. Pretty, easy, and perfect for a holiday dinner.

Growing up, the sliced radish was the one part of a salad that I couldn’t stomach. It was too spicy, too harsh, too biting – and like Fritos and pizza and lobster, I didn’t go back to it for many years. But while I returned to those favorites and grew to love them, my return to radishes has only just taken place, spurred on by an episode of the Barefoot Contessa Goes to London, wherein the root vegetable formed a colorful addition to a ploughman’s lunch. Ms. Garten has featured the radish before, honoring it as a popular French snack, served with sea salt and a baguette of French bread smeared with salted butter.

Without radishes from the garden (we are, as FUSSYlittleBLOG pointed out, far from radish season – he directed me to Buenos Aires), I looked in Fresh Market, which had a few in their organic section. I found some cheap sea salt there as well, but forgot that Marshall’s is the real secret place to get decent spices at much more reasonable prices. With that in mind, I stopped by their Homegoods store and found some Himalayan Pink Sea Salt in its own grinder. Pink just makes everything better.

As for taste, the radish is just as I remembered it, though the addition of a little pink sea salt added another layer of welcome interest. Served with a buttered baguette, it made for a simple preamble to dinner, and I can see how it would make a good after-work snack. Nothing that I’ll do with any regularity, at least not until I put some radishes in my own garden, but a nice enough break to winter monotony.

(My favorite part was still the Himalayan pink salt. I mean, it was pink.)

These precious gems are pomegranates, and once removed from their encasement they shine like jewels. The trick to excavating them and not getting your hands stained with their potent color, is to cut the whole fruit in half, then work to remove the seeds in a bowl of water. It just takes a bit of practice, and soon you’ll have a gorgeous pile of antioxidant-rich fruit, ready for snacking, cocktailing, or just sprinkling on melon or salads.