Rebound

I made something so blatantly awful a week ago that I was dismayed and discouraged from cooking all together for at least a few days. Before that, however, I was in Santa Fe with a large amount of family. So I do apologize for my absence if it was at all felt.

In other news, my time in New York City is winding down and I must say I’m facing my departure bittersweetly. On one hand, I am not sorry to say good bye to Chinatown or to the very obnoxiously self important security guards that are responsible for my admission to my own dorm. I admit, as charming as the subways are in summertime, I also will not miss stepping out of a 6 train into a wall of sauna-appropriate air. However obviously – I will miss the food. The food that has drained my bank account and padded my well…you don’t need to know about that.

So back to cooking, as I said, I was disheartened by the wild mushroom gnocci I wanted so badly to be delicious but was, in fact, an absolute disaster. Even my favorite cooking blog couldn’t cheer me up or inspire me to culinary greatness. That is, until, I spotted the most beautiful thing I’d laid eyes on in weeks – A Summer Squash and Potato Torte laden with scallions. My. Favorite. Thing. Ever. Seriously, I will order something on a menu just because it has scallions.

It was a beautiful looking little veggie dish that looked easy and had an ingredient list that was, surprisingly, comprised of things that I have in my very small pantry. So, in an effort to save money I stopped by the Union Square Farmers market on Saturday and picked up the potatoes and squash for a mere $3 total and headed home to bake me a torte.

It came out perfectly. So perfectly in fact that I just, tonight, after having also brown (well, Barneys) bagged it for lunch, finished eating the last slice of it. It was so pretty and yummy I think it will have to become my standard “Let me impress you!” side dish/appetizer at any forthcoming event upon which I am called to cook. So, without further adieu, the dish that revived my confidence and convinced me that I can still whip something up with success now and then.

Perfect Potato and Summer Squash Torte

1 bunch green onions, thinly sliced
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled, cut into 1/8-inch-thick rounds
3 yellow crookneck squash or regular yellow summer squash, cut into 1/8-inch-thick rounds
6 teaspoons olive oil

Preheat oven to 375°F.

Butter 2 8-inch diameter cake pans.

1. Toss green onions, cheese, flour, thyme, salt and pepper in medium bowl to blend.
2. Layer 1/6 of potatoes in concentric circles in bottom of 1 prepared pan, overlapping slightly. Layer 1/4 of squash in concentric circles atop potatoes. Drizzle with 1 teaspoon oil. Sprinkle with 1/6 of cheese mixture. Repeat with second pan.
3. Repeat with 1/6 of potatoes, then 1/4 of squash and 1 teaspoon oil. Sprinkle with 1/6 of cheese mixture. Top with 1/6 of potatoes. Drizzle with 1 teaspoon oil. Sprinkle with 1/6 of cheese mixture and press gently to flatten. Continue repeating until you run out of veggies/cheese mixture or you get to the top of your pan.
4. Cover pan with foil. Bake until potatoes are almost tender, about 40 minutes. 5. Remove foil; bake uncovered until tortes begin to brown and potatoes are tender, about 25 minutes longer.

At Last

*Warning, this is a self-indulgent and, for the most part, irrelevant post detailing a dining experience rather than a cooking experience…

Tuesday night I finally made it to Mario Batalli’s flagship four-star eatery, Babbo, in the West Village. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Batalli, he’s the Italian Cuisine Iron Chef on Iron Chef: America and I think I may have seen him lose once – unless that was a dream… His food always looks amazing and he combines really unique and really high-quality classic ingredients with spot-on technique to create dishes that really aren’t fair to show to a television audience who can’t even smell them. Needless, to say, he’s kind of brilliant. And Babbo is kindof impossible to get a table unless you…well, to be honest, I don’t know what it takes. They have one line for reservations that opens at 10 am on the dot and is busy the rest of the day with hundreds of people trying to get a table for the date exactly 30 days later. It’s supposed to be more “democratic”…much like the infamous online-only reservations accepted at Ko, where it is equally “democratic” to get a table. On a tip, I called late in the evening to secure a table rather than fight the phone lines during the daytime and lo and behold, miracle of miracles, I was greeted with a glorious ringing rather than the harsh busy tone I’d been getting all morning. I managed to secure a 10:30 pm reservation – I know, I know, it’s late. But you don’t turn down a table at Babbo. End of story.
We had a glass of wine at the bar downstairs, where the only incongruity was the pop-rock bursting into the cozy ambiance from hidden speaker. Beef cheek ravioli and a side of All American Rejects, anyone? Then we were seated at a corner table in the upstairs dining room- a really lovely space with tree-like arrangements sprouting out of oak barrels in the center of the room and a warm at-home dining room feel throughout. To attest to the desperation of those who finally score a table, there was a couple at the table next to us who had with them, at the late hour, their under-a-year-old baby whom they must have sedated or something because that kid was an angel…not a cry all night.
And on to the main event: the food. Oh, the food. It was delicious. I was impressed, but not blown away…satisfied but not exultant. I started with a grilled Octopus little number that was spicy and tender and garnished with bitter orange peel. It was fantastic. The next course was a spegghettini with flowering chives and one pound lobster dish and it was probably the best thing on the table all night. The pasta was cooked to the best al dente I’ve ever had, it was cooked perfectly to the second. The sauce was like an arrabiata, but with the delicious tang of chives, and the lobster was succulent. My main course was a plate of lamb chops with a lemon yogurt sauce, melt-in-your-mouth grilled onions, and sunchoke hearts, which are similar to artichokes but sweeter and these had almost a fennel taste. It was all well balanced, seasoned, and cooked, but by the time I got to lamb chop #3 (out of 5) I was too stuffed to proceed. I even passed up desert. I kick myself for it now because that strawberry crostini with a sweet balsamic reduction sounds pretty damn tasty right about now.
So, all in all, the night was pleasant and lived up to my expectations. I can now watch Iron Chef with the smug satisfaction of someone who kind of knows what Battali’s dishes might taste like. Or at least delude myself into thinking I do. Now, if I can only figure out a way to get into Ko…

Because I Can't...

One of the best things about New York City is the food. If you’re in a fashionable neighborhood you can walk out the door and down the block past dozens of cafes and restaurants with a good atmosphere, affordable food, and really scrumptious offerings. Because, well, there are five other cafes competing for customers on the same block…so it has to be good and cheap. That said, one of the worst things about New York City is the food. Because of the availability and abundance of dining options its hard to resist and easy to (hypothetically speaking) gain ten pounds or more in a few short, delicious weeks.

I partook of my own culinary binge on the delights of the east village last week; hot dogs, red velvet cake, pomme frittes, pierogi, Chinese takeout, and to top it all off, duck consumme. And now I must repent. So even though all I want to do is bake…”Bake, bake, bake!” my inner voice screams at me while visions of peanut butter cookies, Meyer lemon loaf, banana bread, and carrot cake cupcakes dance in my head, I must refrain and be good. So because I can’t, I hope you will. Bake, please, and then tell me all about it, so I can eat vicariously through you. Ok, that sounded a little eating-disorder-ish...don’t worry, I’ll cave eventually and dive into something rife with sugar and butter.

By the way, all of those deserts dancing around in my head? They will be made at some point or another, although probably not until I get back to LA and have all of my baking supplies again. So you can have something to look forward to…although the peanut butter cookies may be on the agenda in short order – I’ve had a mean craving for a while now.

In the meantime, here is a recipe for a Meyer lemon loaf I’ve been making for the past 2 years, ever since I figured out what a Meyer lemon was and then proceeded to fall in love with them. The best part about this loaf is the super tangy/sour lemon syrup that you brush over the outside of the loaf once its come out of the oven. When indulging in something lasciviously lemony, I usually like to keep things tart and the syrup does just that – coating the outside with a zing that is quickly ameliorated by the spongy, soft, buttery, sweet, and lemony cake. It’s a good cake to have with tea, or for breakfast, or for an afternoon snack, or as desert with ice cream…or for when you’re in bed watching reruns of Law and Order late in the wee hours.

Meyer Lemon Loaf

1 1/3 cups cake flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Zest of two Meyer lemons, grated
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup crème fraiche at room temperature
3 1/2 Tbsp fresh squeezed lemon juice)
pinch of salt
1 1/4 ounces butter, melted and cooled
1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup water, juice from one lemon (for the simple syrup)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Butter and flour 1 loaf pans, I usually use 7x3x2"


1. Sift together the cake flour and baking powder, set aside.
2. Place the sugar and the lemon zest in a large mixing bowl, and rub together until the sugar is lemon scented and a bit clumpy. Add the eggs and beat with a whisk until the mixture is a light lemon color and thickened a bit.
3. Whisk in the sour cream then the salt, then the lemon juice.
4. Gently whisk in the flour in four parts, then whisk the butter in in three parts. You will have a lovely thick yet pourable batter flecked with lemon zest.
5. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pans and bake for about 55 minutes, or until the top doesn't sink in when lightly pressed. The tops of the loaves should split open beautifully revealing their creamy pale yellow innards.
6. While the loaves are baking, boil together the sugar and water until the sugar is dissolved, remove from the heat and add the lemon juice.
7. Turn the loaves out of their pans onto a cooling rack and brush liberally with the lemon syrup, repeat brushing as you feel necessary. Let cool.

Country girl, city life

I love farmers markets. I have a strange fondness for wandering down aisles of fresh produce. I really can’t explain it, but I’ve always had an appetite, if not an aptitude for gardening and growing things. When I was younger, my mom and I planted a vegetable garden with everything from corn and tomatoes to squash and strawberries. Unfortunately, both my mother and I are prone to a disposition that affords for neither much patience nor much planning and the garden was very quickly defunct. Imagine my ecstasy, then, at moving to a new house with an acre of hillside behind it on which the former owners had planted dozens of fruit trees. We had plums, peaches, apricots, apples, pears, oranges, lemons, figs, blackberries and raspberries. I would spend hours up on the hill strolling through the fruit trees, checking on their progress and growing increasingly impatient. It was that hillside that really convinced me of the undeniable superiority of homegrown fruits and vegetables. I barely recognized the taste of apple in the apples from our tree - they were that much better than the ones we always brought home from the supermarket. And the same went for the blackberries and raspberries; homegrown berries are a horse of a completely different color.

Which brings me back to farmers markets. Yesterday my friend Amanda and I decided to make an elaborate home-cooked meal based on what we found at the farmers market near her apartment. It was a small market so we weren’t expecting a lot, but we found some real treasures. We walked away with carrots, turnips, green garlic (one of my absolute favorite flavors!), crispy lettuce, sugar snap peas, mint, parsley, chives, apricots, and cherries. We decided to roast a chicken and the turnips and carrots (I know, I know...again) in herb butter, make a mint-pea salad, and have apricot-cherry crisp for desert. The apricots and cherries were out-of-this world delicious, and although we weren’t planning on making desert, we knew we had to the moment we put them in our mouths…they were too good to leave abandoned at the fruit stall.

Once we got back to her apartment and spread everything out and began to make our preparations, everything was so beautiful we started taking pictures of the things we were making. Yes, in this, our facebook-picture-obsessed age, we took pictures of the food rather than of ourselves – it was that beautiful. And hopefully I’ll have those pictures up on the site soon enough to prove it to you. Any ways, we made a simple herb butter with the green garlic, which is really just young garlic that has a more mellow and softer flavor, but is nice and bright, chopped chives, and parsley. It was really simple and the smell of it all together was good enough for a home-candle scent. The salad was really sweet and refreshing – the lettuce we got was really crispy and slightly bitter, which stood up nicely against the sweetness of the peas and of the mint vinaigrette we made and the parsley we chopped up and sprinkled on top gave a nice citrusy bite. It was the perfect summer salad. Lastly, the crisps with the apricots and cherries were delicious. We didn’t sprinkle any sugar on the fruit, and, instead, added extra brown sugar to the topping so the filling was tart and the topping was crunchy and had the necessary sweet component. We made one crisp with just apricots and one with half cherries and half apricots. The apricot-only version was extra-tart, but the flavor of the apricots was just explosive. I loved it, but it was a little to tart for Amanda, who preferred the one with cherries; they were sweet enough to cut through the apricot’s tartness and baked beautifully.

Perfect Summer Salad

Your choice of greens, but I recommend something slightly bitter
½ cup fresh or frozen peas
A handful of parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons finely chopped chives
Mint vinaigrette (recipe below)

Boil the peas for about five-six minutes while you chop the lettuce and the herbs. Strain the peas and let them cool before mixing them in with the rest of the salad. Pour mint vinaigrette over the salad and serve.

For mint vinaigrette:
*We grabbed some white balsamic vinegar at the market on a whim and it turned out to be the most delicious, delicate, and perfectly sweet vinegar for this dressing…find it if you can!
2 cups mint, finely chopped
¾ cup olive oil
White balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper

In one recipe, they tell you to put the mint and olive oil in a food processor or a blender and blend into a pesto-like consistency. I say, why dirty another dish? Just chop the mint as finely as you can and pour the oil in – it will still get you fantastic results. Promise. Mix the oil into the chopped mint and pour into a saucepan. Simmer on very low heat for 45 seconds. Strain the oil through a fine mesh strainer (or in my case, because there was no strainer on hand, a French press), pressing down on the mint to extract more oil. You will end up with much less oil than you put in. Set aside and let cool. When the oil is cool and the greens have been prepared, whisk in the white balsamic vinegar. Use about 1 part vinegar to 2 parts mint oil to start and add more if necessary (I think Amanda used about 1 ½ parts vinegar to every 2 parts mint oil). Whisk in salt and pepper and emulsify. Pour over salad greens and serve.

As for the crumbles…
Just replace the blackberries and nectarines of my earlier crisp recipe with the apricots and cherries or just apricots in whatever proportion you like (we used about a 2-1 ratio for the apricot-cherry crisp). Also, emit the cinnamon in the crisp topping and substitute a tablespoon of vanilla. I also suggest chopping about ½ a cup of walnuts and adding them to the topping…it was Amanda’s idea for these crisps and it really added a nice crunch and flavor.

And the chicken…
Same recipe as the last one, except use about ¼ cup of finely chopped green garlic (you peel the dry brown wrappings off the stems and chop the green parts like you would a scallion), a small handful of finely chopped parsley, and a handful of finely chopped chives. I, then, stuffed the cavity with three of the green garlic bulbs and a nice bunch of parsley.

Confessions of a Cookaholic

The roast chicken of Sunday night came full circle, last night. I’d decided to make a stock with the remnants of our delicious Sunday chicken – bones, meat, and all. What I didn’t realize at the time was that a chicken stock takes about 6-8 hours of slow simmering…which I began at about 9:30 pm., which meant the stock was ready at about 5:30 am. What is a cook to do in such circumstances? The thought of keeping the stovetop going for 8 hours while I slept down the hall made me nervous, but I decided that I must finish what I’d started. So I set my alarm to go off at 2-hour intervals and went to sleep, waking up, surely enough, every 2 hours, to stir the stock, skim off the foam, and make sure that there were no signs of the apartment being engulfed by a deadly fire. Now, that, my friends, is dedication. Imagine my roommate’s surprise to wake up, sleepily, in the middle of the night, to make a trip to the bathroom or whatnot, and discover their crazy cooking roommate at the stove at 3:30 am, stirring a pot on the stove – hair in a “I’m totally schizo” state of disarray from sleeping, mouth guard in, and pillow marks across my face. An attractive image, no? But there I was, stirring away, with, thankfully, not a witness in sight.

I am happy to say that the results were gratifying and absolutely justified my bizarre nighttime behavior. The stock came out beautifully…it was simply gorgeous. Now, what to make with it? I was anxious to try another (the last, I promise!) of Jamie Oliver’s risottos (which will be in my next post) but had made Mac n Cheese the night before and couldn’t justify another unabashed carb-fest. What to make, what to make…

So when my friend Kaitlyn invited me to her aunt’s swanky Upper East Side on-the-river apartment to dine with her and our good friend, Paley, I began to brainstorm. Kaitlyn was making pesto, so carbs were covered. A vegetable! What could I make with a vegetable and chicken stock? I pondered. And then! A soup! Brilliant! Of course! Done. After conferring with Kaitlyn we decided on a roasted butternut squash soup, and it couldn’t have sounded better!

I went home after work to roast the squash before heading uptown, grabbed a bottle of wine, took my stock out of the fridge and dashed into and out of Whole Foods. Which, I’ve got to vent for a minute, is ridiculous. I get the whole “we only sell organics” BUT with food getting so absurdly expensive, why can’t they carry all organics and ONE cheap, non-organic alternative?! Why do I have to pay at least $4 for a small bottle of apple cider vinegar? It’s so immoral. But anyways, back to cooking…

I’d asked Kaitlyn to buy the vegetables that make the flavor base, along with the squash, for the soup and to sauté them together while I walked the 20 minutes from the subway. Kaitlyn, bless her soul, had bought a leek, per my request, although she’d never seen one in her life and had to ask the guy which vegetable it was, and innocently tried to sauté the leaves instead of the root. I thus realized, that it might be necessary to pause for a moment and say that, when cooking leeks, dear readers, you only ever use the long white and pale green part.

With that said, the rest of the sauté was lovely, and the soup we ended up with was fantastic! I mean, really truly; It was we-were-all-wiping-the-bowl-and-licking-our-fingers delicious. Both Paley and Kaitlyn were used to a sweeter butternut squash soup, but I, always eschewing the sweet for the savory, went full speed ahead with a more savory version. We still sprinkled nutmeg on top, very sparingly, another thing you should know – when using nutmeg always use less than you think you need - its very potent stuff. The nutmeg on top was delicious and perfect, the cider vinegar added a nice sweet tang, and the stock – oh the stock! The stock was the best background one could have wished for and enhanced this one over a store-bought can by about 10 fold. I may have to start making stocks weekly…a home made stock really does just make that much of a difference. So here is the recipe for the most delicious savory butternut squash soup I’ve ever made….

1 large butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into chunks (dismantling a squash is hardly the daunting task it may seem)
3 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup small dice onion
1/2 cup small dice carrot
1/2 cup small dice celery
1 leek, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped shallots
1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 quart chicken stock
1/2 teaspoon dried sage
A dash of nutmeg

Preheat oven to 425 degrees

1. Place the chopped squash in a medium-size mixing bowl. Drizzle the squash with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and season with 1/4 teaspoon of salt and 1/8 teaspoon black pepper. Line a sheet pan with parchment paper or aluminum foil and place the squash on top of the sheet pan. Set the sheet pan into the oven and roast for 30-45 minutes, or until the squash is lightly caramelized and tender. Turn off oven.
2. Remove the squash from the oven and set aside. Place a big pot over medium –low heat and add the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil to the it. Add the onions, carrots, celery and leeks in the pan and sweat, stirring often for 5 to 7 minutes.
3. Add the shallots and garlic to the pot and sweat for 1 minute stirring continuously. Deglaze the pot with the vinegar and add the chicken stock and sage to the pot.
4. Bring the pot to a boil and reduce to a simmer. Continue to cook the soup for 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are all tender.
5. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup to a smooth consistency and velvety texture. Alternately, you can puree the soup in batches using a blender. Taste the soup and re-season if necessary with salt and pepper.
6. Just before serving, sprinkle a little bit of nutmeg over the top and serve!