Around my birthday, I inevitably start thinking about strawberries. Shortly after May begins I debate which dessert to make for myself, sometimes believing I'll stray from tradition and choose chocolate cake or pecan bars. But in my life, strawberries have always been one of my first food loves, and there's no sense in changing things now.
Everything tastes better fresh from the ground, don't you think? Arugula, I learned this month, has the most vivid pepper taste when it’s wild, and I’m only privy to this information thanks to my mother. Recently, with the assistance of my brother, my parents have planted a garden in their backyard this spring, and the vegetables are already starting to sprout.
During a recent visit, I arrived home with green onions, which I spread on my cutting board, admiring the fresh dirt. Yes, dirt from the earth! I couldn’t have been more excited to wash them off. Also present were a head of lettuce greens, and a bunch of arugula. All the salad needed was a little goat cheese to be the perfect weeknight meal.
GARDEN SALAD WITH WARM GOAT CHEESE + GREEN ONION VINAIGRETTE
The best way to slice goat cheese without it crumbling is with dental floss, so raid your medicine cabinet before heading to the kitchen.
Serves 2
For Salad
6 cups lettuce
Chives, for garnish
4 ounces goat cheese
¾ cup Panko breadcrumbs
1 egg, lightly beaten and thinned with a bit of milk or water
Salt and pepper
Olive oil, for grilling
For Vinaigrette
4 green onions
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper, to taste
Olive oil
Directions
Place breadcrumbs and the egg into separate, small bowls. On a cutting board, slice the goat cheese with dental floss into ¼ inch slices, about 8 to 10 pieces. One at a time, dredge goat cheese rounds into the egg, then cover with breadcrumbs and set on a small platter. Place the goat cheese into the fridge and chill for 15 minutes.
While the goat cheese chills, wash and dry the lettuce, and keep it in the fridge until ready to plate.
Make the vinaigrette. In a food processor, combine green onions, mustard, salt and pepper, and pulse to combine. Add oil in a slow stream, about half a cup, until the dressing is emulsified and the desire consistency is reached.
Heat a nonstick sauté pan to medium heat and add a turn of olive oil to coat the pan. Add three or four of the goat cheese slices and cook two minutes per side, or until golden brown and heated through. Set aside on a paper towel to sop up any excess oil.
Serve the salad scattered with a few goat cheese rounds and a sprinkling of chives on each plate.
Time flies. Two years ago I was becoming disenchanted with a job I was over qualified for, and started to spend more time in the kitchen as a way to release some creativity. Then, over dinner one night, a friend suggested I start a food blog. Since it combined my interests in writing, cooking, design, and photography, blogging was a natural fit and I've been hooked ever since. My job has changed (for the better), we've moved, and life has taken it's twists and turns, but there's no denying the force of food in my life.
In the charming town of Yountville, just north of Napa, is a garden. The garden is at the base of the mountains, with vineyards running up the side and wildflowers springing up in the grass, directly across the street from Thomas Keller’s The French Laundry. It has rows of carrots, chives, garlic, fingerling potatoes, rainbow chard, and some empty plots I imagine will soon be planted with tomatoes.
Andrew came into the kitchen one evening and said bluntly, “We’ve been having a lot of soup.” Although this isn’t entirely true (we’d had soup once a week for about a month, hardly what I consider a lot), but I took heed. I started browsing for something new and exciting, and the search ended when I ran into Saveur’s Korean Fried Chicken.
{4.22.06 around 7:30 pm.} We've said I do, my dad gave a toast that made us all laugh and cry, and we've even managed to nibble at our salad of dark, leafy greens, avocado and a citrus dressing. That's us with my very Italian Uncle Nick, at our wedding reception four years ago. Where are we now? Somewhere just north of downtown Napa, winding our way through the vineyards. In my absence, I leave you with risotto, a dish I think is quite romantic, perfect for a day like this.
I hope you're not bored with all the pizza on this blog lately. It wasn't intentional, but happens to be the product of my latest obsession. I actually blame Peter Reinhart, and you can too, because his crust is just too good to be true.
For a little variety, I used white sauce instead of red and infused it with garlic and basil. Next, caramelized onions, and while the pizza is still hot, it's scattered with arugula. I also drizzled on some balsamic syrup for a little sweetness.
Phase 1: Pizza for Beginners. It started with a pizza stone
I know now, having watched Anthony Bourdain’s recent episode on Provence, France, that aioli should not, under any circumstances, be called mayonnaise. Aioli is thick, garlicky and creamy, and takes patience to make. The perfect aioli is a product of the ideal environment in which it comes together. The sun, the breeze, the love of the cook holding the mortar and pestle, are all factors. So while the accompanying sauce is called aioli, it’s not of the French variety. This aioli, which sounds lovely to say, is all-American (albeit homemade), basil mayonnaise. And it’s delicious.
I recently purchased a large bottle of vodka for an upcoming recipe. Since the recipe only uses 1 cup worth, my arm was twisted into finding something useful to do with the rest of the liquor. I present to you this lovely, lime-scented martini, perfect for the weekend, when sometimes we just need to put our feet up and relax. Cheers!
In the words of my friend Laura: “Pesto is magical.” I have to agree, wholeheartedly. Pesto, it turns out, I discovered while living in London. I don’t know why I never paid attention to it before, but there I was, wandering around Sainsbury’s grocery store with my new roommate, Christy, trying to navigate the aisles and do currency conversions in my head.
What do you make to celebrate an upcoming marriage, that will cater to a groom’s cravings and a bride’s desire to fit into her wedding dress in six months? This was the question I asked myself when planning the menu for a little engagement party we had a couple of weeks ago.
Tarts immediately came to mine. They’re light, but depending on which ingredients you choose to fill it, hearty enough to feel like a meal. I’ve made tomato tarts and ricotta and zucchini tarts with much success, but wanted to try something new this time. As usual, Deb reads my mind, and posted a delicious, party-worthy tart just days before I started planning.
I consider myself a morning person, but I’m not an early morning person. Breakfast during the week is quick, usually cereal with skim milk, and eaten in the den as I check my email before grabbing my purse and heading off to work.
Since breakfast is rushed Monday through Friday, we have a tradition that every Saturday and Sunday, Andrew makes us steamy lattes. He’s impressively good at it now, foaming milk as well as any barista, and giving us a coffee shop experience inside our own living room.
I love lime things. One day I would love to have a lime tree in my backyard. And a lemon tree, an orange tree, and a hybrid avocado tree. It would make cookies like these easier to make, because I could bake them on a whim, without writing an ingredient down on my grocery list. All it would take is softening some butter, and walking outside to pluck a juicy lime from my little tree. And just as quickly as I decided to make them, they would disappear, melting sweetly on my tongue, never to be seen again.
When I saw Ina Garten make this as a "welcome home" dinner for her dear friends that just returned from Europe (poor things), I couldn't believe what I was watching. Macaroni and Cheese is already decadent, but truffle butter? And mushrooms? Oh my word. I aim to eat healthy, fresh foods whenever possible, but I have my moments, and this was immediately placed on the indulgent list.
Living in Los Angeles, I knew somewhere, a gourmet food market would have white truffle butter. I found the necessary three ounce container at Bristol Farms (for $12, incidentally, but if you consider that this dish would easily feed six hungry dinner guests, it's quite reasonable). Andrew and I strolled home, eager as ever to get in the kitchen.
Before adding the milk and cheese, the truffle butter replaces unsalted butter during the roux-making process. The addition of sautéed mushrooms drives home the earthy elements, and almost makes you think you're doing something good for yourself when you take a bite. Sadly, this is far, far from true. Baking fresh breadcrumbs (from real white bread) studded with parsley and fresh garlic, makes the top crunchy. I was so absorbed in excitement that Andrew had to stop me and ask if we were using plates, because I just stood at the stove for a minute or two, picking off the crunchy noodles for myself.
TRUFFLE MAC AND CHEESE
Recipe courtesy Ina Garten
Serves six to eight at a dinner party, or two adults for about three days.
Ingredients
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Good olive oil
1 lb. mushrooms (any variety or combination), stems removed and caps sliced 1/2-inch
3 tablespoons sherry
Kosher salt
1 pound pasta, such as cavatappi
3 ounces white truffle butter (recommended: D'Artagnan)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 quart whole milk, scalded
12 ounces Gruyere cheese, grated (4 cups)
8 ounces extra-sharp Cheddar, grated (2 1/2 to 3 cups)
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 garlic cloves, chopped
3 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley leaves
1 1/2 cups fresh white bread crumbs
Directions
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
Heat the butter and 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large (12-inch) saute pan, add the mushrooms, and cook over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes, until they are tender. Add the sherry and continue to saute for a few more minutes, until the sherry is absorbed. Set aside.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add a splash of olive oil and a pinch of salt. Add the pasta and cook for 6 to 8 minutes, until al dente. Drain well.
Meanwhile, melt the truffle butter in a large (6-quart) saucepan and whisk in the flour. Cook for 2 minutes over low heat, stirring constantly with a whisk. Slowly whisk in the hot milk and cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the white sauce is thickened and creamy. Off the heat, add the Gruyere, Cheddar, 1 1/2 tablespoons salt, the pepper, and nutmeg.
Combine the pasta, sauce, and mushrooms in a large bowl and pour them into a 10 by 13 by 2-inch baking dish.
Place the garlic and parsley in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade and pulse until they're minced. Add the bread crumbs and pulse to combine. Sprinkle the crumbs over the pasta and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until the sauce is bubbly and the crumbs are golden brown. Serve hot.
During the holidays last year, I found myself in the kitchen on a Friday night with absolutely no interest in cooking. Maybe it was all the rich Thanksgiving side dish taste-testing, or the cookies, but part of me was just tired. Although I had what I'm sure was a perfectly acceptable meal planned, I didn't even bother looking in my recipe book. Andrew and I discussed the best course of action, and he opened the fridge to tell me what we had. Bacon and spinach were mentioned. Then I saw a tomato in my vegetable bowl on the counter. And bread was in the freezer. I also had chives, for some reason.
I never thought something like mayonnaise could make me so happy. I don’t eat a lot of it. Mostly on tuna sandwiches and BLT’s, but that’s the extent of my bonding with this condiment. That is, until I discovered the miracle of mayonnaise.
Thanks to movies like Food, Inc.
I can confidently admit that we recently ate the same thing for dinner three nights in a row. With slight variations, quinoa was the main event last week. Inspired by my first attempt with cucumbers, I was transfixed with its ability to take on any flavors I used, as well as its quick cooking powers (translation: super easy dinner on the table in about 20 minutes). To put it mildly, quinoa is very cooking after five friendly. With added protein like beans or tofu, it can easily be a main course, but it's also terrific as a side dish for chicken or fish.
For as long as I can remember, my family always ate blueberry muffins on Christmas morning. The muffins, a favorite of my dad, became a favoite of mine (as well as poppyseed muffins, but we're talking about blueberries today).
This last Christmas, things were different. Andrew and I spent the holiday with his parents, and my brother was visiting friends in Kansas City as part of an extended road trip he began over the summer. And my parents, with no children to bake for on Christmas morning, drove through the desert to Las Vegas for a getaway. I learned later that my dad missed our usual Christmas muffins. 
With my inclination to make everything I possibly can from scratch, I wanted to give these a try. You know, in Februray, in preparation for Christmas 2010, months and months away. But at least I'll be prepared.
BLUEBERRY MUFFINS
Recipe courtesy Martha Stewart
If you're thinking of making the lemon ricotta fritters from earlier this week, you'll have some extra curd to spread over the warm muffins.
Ingredients
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for tins
3 cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups sugar, plus more for sprinkling
1 large egg
2 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup milk
1 3/4 cups blueberries
Directions
Makes 12 muffins
