Butter is the Word of the Day

As soon as I read about this amazing tomato sauce, the first thing that went through my mind was a great big resounding DUH. I have been trying for YEARS to find a good basic tomato sauce, one that is good all by its lonesome or spiffed up with mushrooms, sausage, whatever. I’ve tried sauces with a mirepoix base, canned tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, olive oil, white wine, red wine, chicken stock, tomato paste, sugar, HOURS simmering on a stove top – you name it, I’ve tried it.
You know what I never tried? Butter. You know what makes this the best tomato sauce EVER? Butter. DUH, right? This sauce is so simple and so easy and so perfect and so obvious I just want to kick myself for not figuring it out sooner. There are three ingredients for the base: tomatoes, an onion, and butter. That’s it.

Now, if you’re like me and you wanna get fancy, you can add mushrooms that you’ve sautéed in butter until they’re soft and toasty and just rife with opportunity. And then you can add a little splash of marjoram to them – just to dress them up a little. And THEN you can pour in the most basic and delicious tomato sauce you’ll ever make, chop some fresh basil, grate some parmesan, and serve the whole thing over pasta.
I’m just dying to try this sauce with ground sausage, or garlic, or chili flakes, or all three, or... oh the possibilities are endless!

28 ounces whole peeled tomatoes from a can (San Marzano, if you can find them)
5 tablespoons (70 grams) unsalted butter
1 medium-sized yellow onion, peeled and halved
Salt to taste

Put the tomatoes, onion and butter in a heavy saucepan (it fit just right in a 3-quart) over medium heat. Bring the sauce to a simmer then lower the heat to keep the sauce at a slow, steady simmer for about 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat float free of the tomatoes. Stir occasionally, crushing the tomatoes against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon. Remove from heat, discard the onion, add salt to taste (you might find, as I did, that your tomatoes came salted and that you didn’t need to add more) and keep warm while you prepare your pasta.

Dinner for Two

Last week my friend Ian, a soon-to-be rockstar, graced me with his presence in exchange for a home-cooked meal. He wasn’t picky, he swore, but promised I’d win his heart with the classics…so I went with an amazing chicken meatball recipe that I’d already tried out once before to great success and decided I’d make spaghetti to go with it.

Chicken meatballs? I can hear the resounding “ick”s…but let me assure you that these are chicken meatballs of a different color. They’re moist and so flavorful and (mostly) healthy…we’ll get to that “mostly” in a minute. Ok, or now. Like most of the best meat balls you’ve had in your life, these babies pack some pork.

In this case, its chopped pancetta, which, while its sautéing to a crisp with onions and garlic will fill your kitchen with the most deliciously savory smell. In Venice, they use mortadella (the “mort” part of this particular form of pork is most likely in reference to the fact that its about 90% fat and thus is likely to interfere with your own mortality), and at your corner Italian joint its probably plain old ground pork.


To make up for the fact that these meatballs aren’t quite kosher, I used 100% ground breast meat which helps a little to garner back some healthy points. Anyways, they came out fantastically (if in need of a little salt) and I was busy polishing off my plate while Ian was more focused on polishing off a bottle of wine.
Also, I cheated this time and used store-bought sauce (gasp! The horror!) albeit Giorgio Baldi’s Arabiatta…because who can compete with Giorgio’s? But I have a new tomato sauce recipe that will knock your socks off so stay tuned…and make these meatballs in the meantime!

Chicken Meatballs
1 pound ground chicken
3 oz pancetta, chopped OR ground up in a food processor
1 tblspn olive oil
1 small onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic
3 tblspns chopped parsley
1 egg
1 cup of Italian bread torn up into little bitty pieces
1/3 cup milk
1 tblespn tomato paste
1 tspn salt
1 tspn pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

1. Saute pancetta, onions, and garlic in olive oil over medium heat until pancetta is browned and onions are soft and translucent. Cool (this is important because you’re going to be adding it to a mixture with raw egg so if its not pretty cooled down it will cook the egg and get yucky).
2. Meanwhile, soak the bread in the milk.
3. Mix chicken, salt, pepper, parsley, egg, tomato paste and milk-soaked bread in a large bowl.
4. Once the pancetta-onion-garlic mixture is cooled, add to the meat mixture and blend well (don’t be afraid to use your fingers!)
5. Make balls (should get about 12-14 of them depending on size) and place in a large baking dish or casserole dish without crowding.
6. Bake for 15-20 minutes (although mine took about 25 minutes because of my oven). Serve on their own, as sliders, appetizers, or (like me) with spaghetti and sauce.

The Pot Roast That Made Me Fat

It’s raining again out here in LaLa land. Storm #2 of four has just blown onto shore bringing with it torrential rains, a mesocyclone (small tornado of some sort?), and winds that broke the umbrella I stole from the doorstep of an unsuspecting stranger (kharma?). But not to fret! Storm #3 (due in tomorrow evening) is supposed to be even worse.
As much as I should hate the rain, working in a restaurant that relies heavily on its enchanting patio to bring in diners (and hence, my tips), I love love love the rain! Most of all because it’s a great excuse to stay in doors and to make delightfully meaty dishes like stews and pot roasts.

But usually these things come with a high caloric price tag and the weather that encourages their production also encourages those terribly sedentary habits of mine (ie not excercizing – a New Years resolution that is not going quite as planned….). So was I surprised when the dress I tried to wiggle into on Sunday didn’t quite (read: not a chance in hell) zip all the way up? I shouldn’t have been. But when that poor unwitting shop girl came to “check in” on my friend Britney and me in the dressing room I answered, with my face buried in Britney’s small Asian bosom, that her clothes made me want to kill myself.

But it wasn’t her fault! No, it was the pot roast’s fault. The pot roast that was slow cooked in wine and broth for four hours. With celery root, and parsley root, and thyme and all the other usual suspects. And devoured with two ridiculously good bottles of California Syrah (Qupe and Sherwin Family Vineyards).

The smell was one of those insanely rich and intriguing ones that made my roommates yell incredulously as they walked through the front door, “WHAT are you making?!”. And the pot roast was devoured in one sitting. The whole thing. I reduced the braising liquid down to a syrupy sauce that was just bursting with all the flavors that had gone into it. And the meat was so tender, no knife was required. Enjoy the recipe at your own risk!

Pot Roast with Winter Vegetables
1 3 lb pot roast- appropriate cut of beef
2 tblspns olive oil
1 small celery root, roughly cubed
1 large or 2 small parsley roots, chopped into hunks
1 onion, quartered
2 large carrots, chopped into hunks
1/2 cup of dry red wine
1 ½ cup of broth (I used chicken but you can use beef or vegetable also)
1 bay leaf
3-4 sprigs thyme
½ tspn whole black peppercorns
½ tspn salt

1. Start by heating the olive oil in a large thick-bottomed pot (I use my La Crouset aka the love of my life). Brown the roast on all sides.
2. Pour in the wine and scrape up all the brown bits on the bottom of the pot. Reduce to 1/3.
3. Pour in broth and all the vegetables, bay leaf, thyme, peppercorn, and salt.
4. Bring to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Skim off any foam that collects on the surface. Cook, covered, for three to four hours, turning the roast over half way through.
5. Once you can start shredding meat off the top of the roast with a fork, its done. Take it out of the braising liquid and keep warm. Skim off the fat and remove all the vegetables (you can eat them if you’d like!). Bring to a boil and reduce down until the sauce is almost syrupy. Pour this over the roast and serve.

Carrot Muffins

When I was a little girl I was obsessed with eating carrots because someone had told me once that they were good for your eyes. Having grown up with a father who was born cross-eyed and blind as a bat, I ate carrots religiously. Needless to say, I have to carry a pair of glasses around in my purse for long-distance reading. Sigh.

Anyways, carrot cake is one of my favorite things. And around the holidays, its got that perfect flavor combination that makes you feel all warm and holiday-ish; nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon. And carrot muffins, because of the aforementioned flavor combination, are just fantastic paired with a fresh cup of coffee.

Lastly, this recipe packs THREE CUPS of carrots into 24 muffins which means lots of veggie goodness and fiber. I made these last Christmas and my mom, who is really not a pastry person at all, devoured two a day and my roommates made all 12 of a batch disappear in a day. But that’s ok! They’re so healthy! So go ahead and whip these up and you’ll have something to look forward to when you drag yourself out of bed in the morning – in fact, these just might be good enough to get you out of bed in the first place.


Carrot Muffins
Makes 24 muffins (but I usually half the recipe….)
2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups canola oil
4 large eggs
3 cups grated peeled carrots
1 cups coarsely chopped walnuts (optional)
1/2 cup raisins (optional)

Preheat oven to 350.

Line 24 cupcake molds with papers, or butter and flour them.

Whisk flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger in medium bowl to blend. Whisk sugar and oil in large bowl until well blended. Whisk in eggs 1 at a time. Add flour mixture and stir until blended. Stir in carrots, walnuts and raisins, if using them. Divide batter among cupcake molds, filling 3/4 of each.

Bake cupcakes 14 to 18 minutes, or until a tester inserted into the center of one comes out clean. Let cool in pans for five minutes or so, then transfer cakes to a cooling rack. Let cool completely before icing them.

Vanilla Scented Pancakes with Strawberry Syrup

Here’s a secret Biquick would not like you to know: homemade pancakes are SO easy to make…and they’re delicious! If you are, like me, someone who has a whole shelf in the pantry devoted to baking supplies, I guarantee you have what it takes to make pancakes.

I use Alice Water’s recipe for buttermilk pancakes, and since no normal person has buttermilk just lying around (nor should they – that stuff is deadly rich!) I use a mixture of plain yogurt and milk as a substitute. You can also use flavored yogurt (I LOVE peach flavored yogurt in this recipe and use Apricot Jam instead of strawberry syrup).

Anyways, the strawberry syrup part of this recipe came about because I had some strawberries lying around that were about to go bad and I just couldn’t force myself to toss them, so I decided to make a syrup – something that is always a good thing to do when you have fruit that’s just not quite good enough to eat but can make a lovely sauce.

I don’t like really super sweet syrups and its important, to me, to preserve the fresh fruit taste. The syrup recipe is simple – strawberries, water, sugar, and lemon juice all boiled down to a thick sticky delicious mess. And vanilla-scented pancakes are even delicious by themselves, with some melted butter and powdered sugar if you don’t have any fruit for a syrup. This is a quick and delicious breakfast that takes less than 20 minutes to whip up and is sure to impress should you have guest or just some hungry roommates.

Vanilla Scented Pancakes (makes about 4-6 pancakes)

¾ cup flour
1tspn baking powder
½ tablespoon sugar
½ tspn salt
1 tspn vailla extract
1 egg
3 tablespoons melted butter
1/3 cup milk
1/3 cup yogurt (plain or fruity – your call)

1. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and salt in a large bowl
2. Mix together egg, milk, yogurt, and vanilla. Stir into flour mixture.
3. Add melted butter and mix thoroughly. Cover the batter and keep in the refrigerator for 15 minutes for the fluffiest pancakes. Heat a non-stick griddle over medium-low heat (coat with butter if you’re feeling really bad)
4. Pour batter over the griddle and cook about 4 minutes on each side, checking often to make sure they’re not burning.

Strawberry Syrup
½ pound hulled strawberries (tops removed)
¼ cup water
¼ cup sugar
1 tablespoon of lemon juice

Bring strawberries, water, sugar to boil in large saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Boil uncovered 10 minutes, stirring occasionally and adjusting heat to prevent mixture from boiling over. Add lemon juice. Strain, pressing on solids and pour over pancakes, icecream, cheesecakes, or what have you.

LA in the rain; Braised Short Ribs and Parsley Root Mashed Potatoes

So, the rain has finally arrived. Everyone loves the chance to curl up on a couch with a warm blanket, a fire, and a cup of hot cocoa – it’s the best way to while away a rainy day. Until you have to pull on your rain boots, button your coat, grab your purse and splash right out into that very same rainy day you were so blissfully watching pass by just a little while ago.


In Los Angeles, a rainy day is a cause for celebration and complaint. For the natives, a rainy day is a break from the status quo and a reason to point our fingers towards the rest of the country, accusingly – a chance to say “aha! See? It’s not perfect and sunny all the time. We know what its like to have weather.” And then we stick our tongues out.

But because it’s so rare people freak out. Nobody in Los Angeles knows how to drive in the rain and the terrible traffic for which we’re famous only gets worse. And as the temperature drops below 60, Angelenos race to bury themselves under layers of wool, leather, and polar fleece creating a highly undesireable sartorial situation.

A rainy day, however, is always good for slow-braised meats. The hearty aromas fill the house and the oven’s heat is welcomed by chilly wet hands. I decided to make short ribs last night, in anticipation of the rain – the sky was already dark and heavy and was glowing the faint orange it always does before a big rain. Our apartment doesn’t have central heating and if it wasn’t for the little electric heater I got on Saturday, I’d be freezing my little buns off.

Short ribs are satisfying, rich, and delicious. They’re fatty and tender and perfect for one of those rare Los Angeles nights when the whole city is bracing for a storm. These short ribs are an example of comfort food at its best and most indulgent, and paired with a side of parsley root mashed potatoes, some quick-roasted boiler onions and carrots, a glass of good red wine, and Ella Fitzgerald’s Christmas album? Bring on the rain, baby…I’m ready.

Braised Short Ribs (serves 2)
2 lbs short ribs
3 oz pancetta
1 cup dry red wine (I used a Merlot)
2 cups beef stock
1 carrot, cut in half
1 celery stick, cut in half
1 medium onion, quartered
1 bay leaf
4 sprigs fresh thyme or 1 tspn dried
2 garlic cloves, quartered
1 tspn whole black peppercorns
1 tspn sea salt

1. Begin by rinsing short ribs, drying thoroughly and salt-and-peppering all sides.
2. While preparing the short ribs, place the pancetta in a thick-bottomed pot over medium-high heat and render out as much fat as you can. Remove the pancetta.
3. Place short ribs, bone side up in the pancetta fat and brown on all sides – about 2-4 minutes a side. Remove the short ribs to a plate or bowl and drain off any excess fat but be careful not to lose the browned bits on the bottom of the pot.
4. Pour in red wine and scrape up all the browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Reduce red wine to about 1/3 cup – it should take about 10 minutes.
5. Pour in beef stock, vegetables, herbs, peppercorns, and salt. Stir the mixture to distribute evenly around the pot. Place the short ribs, bone side down, on top of this mixture and turn heat up to high. Bring the mixture to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. Place the lid on top of the pot and simmer for an hour.
6. After an hour, using tongs, flip the short ribs so that they are bone-side up. Simmer for another hour, loosening the lid if its simmering to rapidly. Simmer for another hour.
7. Flip the short ribs again so that they are bone side down again.
8. After a half an hour check (by gently lifting the short ribs and shaking them gently) to see if any of the bones have fallen away from the meat, simmer for another half an hour and check again.
9. When the short ribs are fork-tender, and you can easily shred some meat off with the tines of a fork remove the short ribs from the pot and set aside. With a slotted spoon, discard the vegetables and any bones that may have fallen off during cooking. Turn the heat up to very high and let the sauce reduce down to a syrupy consistency. It will probably take about 15 minutes. If you want a very pure sauce, pour the braising liquid into a clear bowl and, either using a spoon, or a baster, skim the fat from the top. Remove the skimmed liquid to the pot and reduce down to a thick sauce.
10. Pour the sauce over the short ribs and serve.

Parsley Root Mashed Potatoes (serves 2)
*These are great to serve with the short ribs because the citrusy and earthy taste of the parsley root contrasts nicely with the richness of meat and the sweet reduction.

2 parsley roots, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
½ pound of yellow potatoes cut into fourths
1 cup of chicken stock
2 cups of water
1 tablespoon butter
¼-1/3 cup of milk (whatever you have on hand is fine)
salt and pepper to taste

1. Combine chicken stock, water, potatoes, and parsley root in a large pot and bring to a boil. Boil until fork tender, about 15 minutes.
2. Strain and pour potatoes and parley root into a large bowl. Combine with milk, butter, salt and pepper. Using a stand or hand mixer whip all the ingredients together until they are light and fluffy. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Curry Me Happy

Come summer time, when you're living in an apartment with the most pathetic little AC unit that couldn't...turning on the oven is just about the least appealing act one could endeavor. This situation is just as ripe an opportunity as any for fresh salads. I can't say I don't love a good salad, but being a committed carnivore, a salad all by its lonesome just usually doesn't satisfy. Sure, I can throw in some nuts or seeds for protein, fill it up with fresh veggies, or just make the perfect vinagrette - but the little voice in my stomach still cries out for meat.


Which makes chicken salad even more perfect. Chicken salad is one of my newer obsessions - as long as its rife with celery, cranberries, and not too much mayo. One of my favorite chicken salads is, in fact, a curried chicken salad and there is just nothing that hits the spot more dead-on in the middle of summer. That being said, I scoured the web for a perfect curried chicken salad recipe to quench my craving and finally found one that had recieved nothing but rave reviews from fellow foodies on epicurious.com.

Their recipe used mangoes for sweetness, cashews for crunch, and red onions for tang. I decided to replace all of the above with dried cranberries, celery, and green onions. Oh. My. God. Was it good! Just to make a good thing better, I piled it high on La Brea Bakery's whole wheat - with a malty flavor and little specks of sunflower and other delicious little sead - and topped it all off with a little spring salad mixture just so I felt ok about all the mayonaise (low fat!) that went into my chicken salad. However, speaking of mayonaise - I generally can't stand the stuff unless its in a chicken salad which is why the recipe on epicurious.com was even more perfect - it halved the mayonaise by pairing it with yogurt (Greek - 2%!).

So, if you (like me) just can't bear the thought of applying heat to an already over-saturated apartment, go ahead and whip yourself up some curried chicken salad - the only heat involved will be in your mouth.

Curried Chicken Salad (adapted from Gourmet)

1 1/2 pound (or less) chicken breast
1 3/4 cup chicken stock
4 cups water
3 celery stalks (I like to use the paler ones of the heart)
4-5 green onions, white and pale green parts only
A handful and a half of dried cranberries
3/4 teaspoon honey
3/4 tablespoon lime juice (freshly squeezed)
3 1/2 - 4 tablespoons curry powder (depending on how spicy you like your salad)
A little less than 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/3 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup mayonaise

Bring 4 cups water to a simmer with chicken broth in a 2- to 3-quart saucepan. Add chicken and simmer, uncovered, 6 minutes. Remove pan from heat and cover, then let stand until chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes. Transfer chicken to a plate and cool 10 minutes. Chop into 1/2-inch pieces.

While chicken is cooling, whisk together mayonnaise, yogurt, curry, lime juice, honey, ginger, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Add chicken, scallions, cranberries, and celery and stir gently to combine.

Munchen Potatoes

No matter the season or time of day, I can always eat potatoes. In the morning with eggs, at lunch with a salad, or for dinner swimming in the juices of something just roasted. Some of the best potatoes I’ve ever eaten were in Germany. In an outdoors beer garden in Munich, browned in drippings of some sort with caramelized onions and caraway seeds, garnished with fresh parsley and chives. It sounds so simple, but it was so perfect. So perfect, in fact, that I took pictures of it – to remember the best meal of my whirlwind trip around Europe by train.


At the time, however, I didn’t know that it was caraway seeds that had given my potatoes the distinct flavor and after spending much time ruminating and, finally, giving into the power of google was happy to discover it was something I could run to the market and buy. Caraway seeds are the same spice used to flavor rye bread – they have a flavor similar to anise, or fennel seed, but are very distinct and are very unique to Bavarian cooking (which is, overall, simply delicious). This is a warm, sautéed version of this particular combination of flavors, but there is also a cold, somewhat pickled version of this potato salad that I’m going to try and share with you soon.


Although the recipe is simple – the point is to get familiar with a new spice, not necessarily something difficult or complicated or creative. Lately, I’ve been cooking on a back-to-basics mentality – trying to find that perfect marinara sauce, a good chicken salad, new flavors with which to braise chicken, or other recipes that are always good to have at hand.
So now I can have my favorite Munich potatoes anytime, and in the process be brought back to that lovely beer garden, my sun burnt feet (not surprising – as they hadn’t been exposed to sunlight in 4 months!), the nudist park we stumbled through, and that time we ran screaming (drunkenly, I’m afraid to say) through a train station in Berlin trying to find the train to Munchen.

Caraway Potatoes
1 large white potato, sliced thin and into quarters
1 small onion, sliced thinly
½ tspn caraway seeds
1 tblspn butter
salt and pepper
fresh chives and parsley to garnish

1. Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat.
2. Add caraway seeds to toast lightly and open up their flavor.
3. Add potatoes and onions, spreading them out so that they make a layer on the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
4. Cover the pan for about 2 minutes before stirring. Repeat the process until the potatoes are nice and browned and the onions are soft and lightly caramelized.
5. Garnish with fresh chopped parsley and chives. Add salt and pepper to taste and enjoy a little taste of Bavaria.

Make at your own risk

I have a confession to make. About twice a year, I allow myself to indulge in the pleasures and delights of KFC. However, they’ve finally closed the one in my home town – most likely to make room for yet another healthy lifestyle restaurant (those fools!) - and so I’ve had to go in search of my own fried chicken recipe to fill the void.
Ina Garten makes an oven-fried chicken recipe that I’ve tried but that, shockingly, failed to please. I spent a lot of time trolling the internet for a good replacement but never found one that really whetted my appetite and so I made up my own.
Fried chicken is a tricky thing to make – its harder than one would surmise. Its very difficult to get the coating nice and crispy and brown without leaving the chicken inside raw in the middle. You’ll usually end up with a burnt outside if you wait long enough to get the chicken fully cooked, which is why baking it the rest of the way is such a brilliant solution. Even my favorite blogger had a lot of trouble with her fried chicken.


There are multiple ways to approach fried chicken. Many cooks insist on a buttermilk bath for anywhere from a few hours to overnight (Ina insists on overnight), and then there is the question of the coating: eggs? Flour? Cornflakes? My solution is to use all three – the cornflakes give it a nice crunch that you don’t otherwise get with just flour. I don’t personally do a buttermilk brine, but I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt. Buttermilk is acidic, so it gets into the meat and gently tenderizes it, as well as gives it a really nice rich flavor.
I think the key to any good fried chicken is a double dip in the batter/coating mixture…and I like to get all my flavor in the coating, rather than into the chicken. So I insist that if you give this recipe a whirl (which you should) that you do the same. And so, without further ado, my fried chicken.

Fried Chicken

*for the chicken, you can use however much you want, and whichever pieces you prefer. I usually just go for legs because they’re yummy, cook quickly, and are pretty cheap. If you’re making thighs and/or breasts, you’ll have to double your cooking time.

6 chicken legs
1 cup (or more) Vegetable Oil – enough to fill the pot up about 2 inches
2 large eggs
2/3 cup milk
1 ½ cup flour
1 cup corn flakes, crushed by hand or in a food processor
1 ½ tspn paprika
½ tspn dried ground marjoram
2 tblspns salt
1 tblspn ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350.
Set a large heavy pot over medium high heat. You want to heat it until the you can see the oil start to slither across the pot, but not so hot that it’s smoking. Once you’ve put the chicken in you’ll know if its too hot or not hot enough – the chicken should start to brown in about 3-4 minutes.
For the batter:
Whisk together the milk and eggs in a medium sized bowl.

For the coating:
Gently mix together the cornflakes, flour, paprika, marjoram, salt, and pepper until it is evenly blended. Pour onto a large plate and spread it out to make an easy coating station.

1. Once you’ve washed and dried your chicken, place it in the batter mixture, making sure its evenly coated. Hold it over the batter, letting the excess drip off. Place it in the flour mixture and coat evenly. Repeat, dunking it in the batter again, and giving it a final coating in the flour mixture before placing it in the hot oil.
2. Repeat the steps with the other pieces of chicken, letting the oil get hot again in between batches and removing the chicken with tongs once it is nice and golden brown.
3. Place the finished pieces on a non-stick baking tray and once all the chicken has been fried, place the baking tray in the oven.
4. For legs, cook about 25-30 minutes. For any other pieces cook about 40-45 minutes. Once you’ve taken the chicken out of the oven, let it cool for a minute.

Also, a note: Once you’ve finished frying, take oil off the heat and let it cool for at least an hour. Do NOT pour cooking oil down the drain but, throw it away.

Grab Your Pastels and Play Croquet

While I spend my summer unsuccessfully seeking employment under the hot summer sun of Los Angeles, I find myself appreciating more and more the saving grace that is cocktail hour. What better way to while away the afternoon than with a nice cold glass of something refreshing for the palette and soothing to the body?
My personal preference for cocktail hour is anything with gin. I’ve never been a girl for brown liquor, and while vodka is clean and blends easily, I just can’t honestly say I love the taste. But who can resist the cool, crisp, and herby flavor of juniper berries – a taste borne of high altitudes – on a simmering summer day? And to all those of you who think you don’t like gin, let me assure you that the drinks I am about to describe will surely change your mind.

The first recipe is inspired by my favorite cocktail in the whole world, its called an Ellison at the bar on 12th and 2nd in New York where I first discovered it and its almost too delicious to be safe. It’s a mixture of gin, cucumber (trust me!), mint, lime juice, tonic water, and just a touch of sugar. The cucumber’s the real showstopper and an unexpected hit – it’s a cool flavor but gives a refreshing sweetness, too.

The second drink is one I’ve stolen from my cousins in Connecticut. Like any East Coaster worth her salt, the girl knew just what to do with a bottle of Hendricks Gin (my favorite, btw) and some ripe summer raspberries. The drink involves muddled raspberries, thyme, and sugar. Don’t balk at the thyme – its got a nice citrusy and earthy taste that contrasts nicely against the gin and the fruit.
So don’t hesitate – come 5 pm, get yourself a nice afternoon cocktail, sit back, and enjoy the summer sun.

The Ellison(ish)
For one drink:
3 thin-medium cucumber slices
4-6 mint leaves
Juice from ¼ lime wedge
½ teaspoon of white sugar
1-2 shots gin
Tonic water to fill the glass
In a glass or a bowl, muddle together cucumber, mint, lime, and sugar. Use the end of a wooden spoon if you don’t have a professional muddler or anything that you have handy – you just need to make sure you release the oils from the cucumber and mint. You can either pour gin directly into glass that has been muddled OR if you have a boston shaker on hand, fill it with ice and shake muddled mixture and gin together, straining out muddled mixture. Last, add tonic water to get to your desired strength and enjoy.


The Eloise
For one drink:
5-7 Raspberries
1 teaspoon sugar
2 sticks thyme
Juice from ¼ lime wedge
1-2 shots gin
Tonic water

Start by mixing raspberries, sugar, and lime in a glass. Muddle together and let sit for a few minutes, so that the sugar and raspberries form a syrup. Pour mixture into boston shaker and pour in gin and ice. Shake and strain mixture. Add tonic water to taste and garnish with a raspberry strung on a stick of thyme.

Scotland

So, I’ve found myself in Edinburgh. Ok, not found, but worked very hard to get myself in Edinburgh. Although not a particularly culinary mecca, I have my reasons – this is a city of literature and ask anyone who has braved a full-length conversation with me, you can bet that I went just as crazy for books as I did for cooking.

Although not a city famed for its food, Edinburgh is home to the fried Mars Bar, fried pizza, probably the only KFC in the United Kingdom, and also Scotland’s national dish, Haggis (a sheep’s stomach that is filled with ground beef, lamb, oats, and various spices and then boiled to perfection). So much for a rich culinary tradition, eh?

This is a place where pudding can either mean some kind of sausage (always pork, oh how the Brits do love their pork!) or a tasty desert. However, this is also the birthplace of the scone and who doesn’t love a good scone? So, in the tradition of celebrating my new home for the next five months (and because it was the only baked good I could make with my limited kitchen supplies – I don’t even have a whisk! A whisk!), I made scones. Blueberry scones, to be precise.
If you’ve never made a scone before, you’ve gotta try it. They’re the easiest thing in the world to make even on a Tricity Bendix stove-oven, aptly named Tiara (see above picture for proof), if you want to satisfy a baked-goods craving – no tools required. Seriously. All you need is your hands and a butter knife (and, if you’re in the UK following an American recipe, an online measurements converter).

Blueberry and Cream Scones
2 cups (10 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons chilled, unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1/2 cup currants (I used dried cranberries, and chopped them into smaller bits)
1 cup heavy cream

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Place flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in large bowl or work bowl of food processor fitted with steel blade. Whisk together or pulse six times.
3. If making by hand, use two knives, a pastry blender or your fingertips and quickly cut inbutter until mixture resembles coarse meal, with a few slightly larger butter lumps. Stir in blueberries. If using food processor, remove cover and distribute butter evenly over dry ingredients. Cover and pulse 12 times, each pulse lasting 1 second. Add currants and pulse one more time. Transfer dough to large bowl.
4. Stir in heavy cream with a rubber spatula or fork until dough begins to form, about 30
seconds.
5. Transfer dough and all dry, floury bits to countertop and knead dough by hand just until it comes together into a rough, sticky ball, 5 to 10 seconds. Form scones by either a) pressing the dough into an 8-inch cake pan, then turning the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface, cutting the dough into 8 wedges with either a knife
6. Place wedges on ungreased baking sheet and bake until scone tops are light
brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Cool on wire rack for at least 10 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Cornish Game Hens 101

Before you start thinking that I’ve abandoned you and turned to the dark side of gourmet cooking with weird la-di-da ingredients like Cornish Game Hens and celery roots, let me explain. First of all, a Cornish Game Hen is really just like a mini chicken. They’re about 1/3 the size of a normal or even a young chicken, but really, besides the fancy name, that’s all there is to it – they’re smaller. And cheaper. And! Because they’re so mini, they are the perfect portion if you’re cooking for one. The dark side’s not so bad, is it?
So now that we’ve gotten a few things straight, lets move on to what exactly I did with my Cornish Game Hens (besides name them Larry and Link). I stuffed them. With stuffing. Cornbread stuffing. It was a classic combination and killed two birds with one stone (seriously, pun so not intended) – one bird being my craving for homemade chicken stock which would come from the remains of the roasted hens, and the second proverbial bird being the fact that I crave stuffing constantly. Year round, in fact. Which does not make the fact that Thanksgiving is still on the safe side of 3 months away any easier to bear. So I justified the stuffing with the stock and got to work.
I decided to go with an apple-cornbread stuffing similar to what we usually have on thanksgiving, minus the Mrs. Cubinson box – seriously, if ever there was an unlikely gourmand… I wanted to keep things simple and only use ingredients that I’d probably have around anyways – especially the herbs that are growing on our patio which were probably the best investment I’ve made in a long time.
I chose rosemary as the most prominent herb and sprinkled in a little thyme but really, the rosemary-apple combination stole the show. If you hate rosemary, as some people do, I think sage would be an equally delicious substitution and one that I want to try soon. Because I was using rosemary in the stuffing I decided to make an herb butter out of it, as well, to slather all over the bird as it cooked. It was really delicious and pretty simple.
I prepped the bird in the same way I prep my chickens – herb butter under the skin, salt and pepper, and more herb butter on top. The stuffing was really just a lot of chopping and some fun hand-mushing it all together. And then some stuffing. And if you’re not a fan of eating stuffing that was cooked inside the bird, no problem – you can always just spread it out into a casserole dish and bake it separately – it will be just as good and even better for lunch the next day. It really was so easy I can’t believe we’ve relied on Mrs. Cubinson all these years…

Cornish Game Hens with Cornbread Stuffing

For the Cornbread Stuffing:
About 12 oz. of cornbread or 1 ½ cups
1 medium onion, copped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 granny smith apples, chopped
½ cup toasted walnuts, chopped
¼ cup chicken stalk
2 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons or 3 stems of rosemary leaves, chopped fine (half this amount if using dried))
1 teaspoon thyme, chopped
½ teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

1. Melt butter in sauté pan over medium heat. Add onions and celery and sauté until onions are translucent and celery is tender, about 5-7 minutes
2. Meanwhile, in a big bowl, crumble cornbread and add all other ingredients, mixing together with your hands or a big spoon.
3. Once onions and celery are ready, add to all other ingredients in bowl and mix well.
4. Let cool and stuff into hens (about ½ cup stuffing in each hen), spreading any leftovers into a baking dish and bake, covered at 375 degrees for about 35 minutes. Remove foil and bake for another 15 minutes or until top is golden brown.



For the Hens:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
Cornish game hens usually come in packs of two.
1. Just salt and pepper them the day before if you can and refrigerate overnight.
2. Right before you stuff (or not) them and put them in the oven, rub an herb butter of your choice all over and under the skin if you have the stomach for it.
3. Roast them for about 45 minutes, until the skin is golden and the juices run clear when cutting between the thigh and the breast.

What is that?

I didn’t know people ate celery roots until I saw Ina Garten hacking one up on her show one day. I was intrigued by one of the ugliest looking vegetables I’d ever seen – it looked like a formidable opponent – a big roughly round shaped thing with knots and knobs bursting out of it here and there. But there Ina was, cheerfully peeling, chopping, and cubing the thing into perfect little white chunks. She kept insisting on how wonderful it was and how lovely the flavor was…but I filed the memory away somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind and went on with my life.

Recently, however, celery root is the flavor de jour. Soups, salads, roulades, purees – you name it, I’ve seen celery root in it. And Ina was right…it is a delicious little (big) tuber. It actually is the root of a celery plant, and if you pick one up at the market, besides getting wary stares from your fellow shoppers, you will see that it usually comes with little sprigs of celery sprouting from the top. It has a celery-ish taste, but it’s a little more citrusy and is starchy instead of crispy and watery like its aboveground compatriot so the flavor of celery is richer and more concentrated.

Needless to say, it’s the perfect thing to make a soup out of at the end of summer, a soup which is as equally delicious hot or cold – depending on whether your apartment is an over-airconditioned ice cave or a sweltering sauna. The recipe I used is an amalgamation of a few different recipes I found online – none of them had all of the components I was looking forward to, so I mixed and matched. The soup came out really delicious and was the perfect remedy to a night on which I’d forgotten to thaw any meat and had only chicken stock to work with in the protein department. Add some of the fresh herbs I’ve managed to keep alive, in pots on our patio, for about 2 weeks now and voila! A fresh, light, and filling summer supper.


Celery Root Soup
1 medium celery root, peeled and chopped into ½ inch cubes
1 medium onion, chopped
1 leek
2 cloves garlic, chopped
3 slices smoked bacon
3 ½ cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
3 sprigs parsley and 3 sprigs thyme tied together with kitchen string
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1. Heat a large pot over medium-high heat and add bacon. Render out fat (cook until bacon has begun to brown on both sides) and remove from pot.
2. Reduce heat to just medium, and add onion, leek, celery root, and garlic. Add salt and pepper. Sweat over medium-low heat, stirring once in a while, until onions and leeks are translucent and celery root is tender.
3. Add tablespoon of apple cider vinegar and let it reduce until it is almost completely evaporated.
4. Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to a simmer and add parsley and thyme bouquet. Let simmer for at least 25 minutes, covered.
5. Using a blender or food processor, puree the soup until it has a smooth consistency without any big chunks. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Addiction

The first thing I did when I got home from New York was bake. Ok, not the very first thing, but very close to the top of that list. I was back on a Sunday and I was baking by Monday afternoon. What can I say? Baking is therapeutic in its insistence on methodology; combine dry ingredients, then wet ingredients, mix slowly. And who can argue against the intrinsic beneficial properties of a freshly baked cookie? I’d like to see someone try.

I was thrilled to get my hands back on my 6-speed hand mixer – I felt like an addict being reunited with a favorite crackpipe. Now to find some crack…or in my case, a recipe. I delved into the stash of recipes I’d been stockpiling all summer and felt the pang of nostalgia when I found one for peanut butter cookies.

The Conde cafeteria I’d frequented all summer had the most delicious little peanut butter cookies and I knew immediately that I’d made my decision. Someone in that kitchen had the brilliant idea to burry peanut butter chips that melted in your mouth into the crumbly buttery cookie shell and the results were simply divine.

And so I set about making my own version. I knew that I was on the right track as soon as I tasted the dough – it was soooo good. I was eating it off the mixers like someone who thought Salmonella was a city in Italy. The recipe I was using was a variation of Magnolia Bakery’s and called for only smooth peanut butter. I like a little texture in my cookie so I used half smooth and half crunchy. As the title of this post implies, the cookies were fabulous – so good that an unwitting friend who had come over in the midst of my baking was so enthralled by them as to eat four in about five minutes.

Peanut Butter Cookies

1 ¼ cups all purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup peanut butter at room temperature (I used ½ cup smooth and ½ cup chunky)
¾ cup sugar
½ cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 large egg at room temperature
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ cup peanut butter chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

1) In a large bowl, combine flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
2) In a large bowl, beat the butter and peanut butter together until fluffy. Add the sugars and beat until smooth. Add the egg and mix well. Add the milk and the vanilla extract.
3) Add the flour mixture in three stages, making sure each time the flour mixture in thoroughly incorporated before adding more. Beat thoroughly.
4) Fold in the peanut butter chips.
5) Using two spoons, scoop about a tablespoon of dough at a time, making round little balls of it. Place theses on a parchment-lined or greased baking sheet with plent of space in between for expansion. When all the balls have been placed on the sheet, take a fork and press lightly on each ball but hard enough to leave a criss-cross indentation but do not overly flatten the cookies.
6) Bake for 10-12 minutes. Do not overbake – they may appear to be underdone but they are not!

One Last Date

Yesterday, in true Carrie Bradshaw style, I dressed up and went out for a date with my favorite city. Seeing as it was the last Sunday I will spend here in who-knows-how-long, I thought it only fitting to put on a pretty dress and step out into a truly beautiful summer day to soak up as much as a physically could (literally – I had planned to walk through Central Park from 81st street all the way down to the edge at 59th but had to hobble out at 72nd due to an ill-fitting ballet slipper). It was a day that could have been made for an Indian summer but had been displaced in August. The air was clear and dry, the wind was blowing and swishing my skirt all around, the air smelled sweet, and the sky was a patchwork collage of bright blue sky and dark parcels of grey cloud that cast a shadow every now and then. A gem of a day in what has otherwise, in terms of the weather, generally been a coalmine of a summer.

The day began with a trip to the West Village where I wanted to seek out what I’d been saving myself for for weeks – a perfect burger. So, with that intention I set out for the Spotted Pig, the gastro pub owned in part by Mario Batalli and Chef Alice. They charge $17 a burger and the place is always packed so, I thought, what better place to binge? Until, that is, I plunked myself down at the bar and looked at the menu: Charbroiled burger with Roquefort cheese and shoe strings.
“Excuse me, does the burger come with anything on it besides the cheese?”
“No.”
“Can I put other things on it?”
“No, she won’t do it.”
“She?”
“Yeah. She’s really strict about the menu.”
“But who is this magical ‘She’?”
“Chef. Won’t do it.”
“Well, Can I order sides of things that could hypothetically be put on a burger like onions and lettuce?”
“No.”
“Wow. Ok, Umm…let me look at the menu again.”
At which point I slipped off my stool and snuck out down the stairs, abandoning my untouched drink on the way. Now, I’m all about a good indulgence every once in a while but if they’re going to ask you to pay $17 for a burger, you better damn well get what you want. Even if you think I’m going to compromise the integrity of your burger by adding some lettuce and onion – you should just feel sorry for me that I am ignorantly ruining everything rather than refuse. Too snotty…even for me. And whatever happened to the good old rule that it’s ok to eat unhealthy things as long as you do it with a veggie…hence the ever-popular choice of lettuce for hamburgers. It may not actually make it better for you but at least you feel like you’re being kind of responsible by eating the lettuce, too. Right?

So, out I stepped, as hungry as before in search of a decent alternative to satisfy my burger craving. I settled on a burger joint down the street that wasn’t as gourmet but looked accountable. Ok, there were peanut bins. And checkerboard linoleum floors. Not the best burger I’ve ever had but it definitely hit the spot. Next stop was the Met.

I figured, what better time to finally give in and act like a tourist than my last weekend in the city? The place was packed. There were entire paintings I missed just because I couldn’t see around the crowd of people surrounding it and I didn’t have the patience to wait. There were lines of people curling out of the bathrooms, the subway was jammed until 42nd street, and even the 9 blocks I spent in the park felt like a tourist attraction. They. Were. Everywhere. I ached for the isolation of the village, where the tourists are, at least, confined to Bleeker Street.

But, no matter. I floated on, through the park, which is truly beautiful. A masterpiece of urban design. When I got home, feet aching, hair a little disheveled, tired but also invigorated by the beautiful day I’d just been a part of, I couldn’t help but to climb into bed for a quick reprieve. I woke up with an insane desire for greenery and so I set about making a nice dinner of veggies. I whipped up two of my favorite side dishes and served them side-by-side for a good hearty dinner that left me satisfied and smug about how healthy I’d been…kind of. Zucchini and green beans are two vegetables that I nearly always have around, just because they’re so delicious on their own and, thus, too easy to make even better. I also had some left over Parmesan from the potato and squash torte and some shallots. So, I made zucchini with Parmesan and green beans sautéed with shallots.

Zucchini with Parmesan
1-2 zucchinis, cut into ¼ inch rounds and then halved
1/3 cup grated Parmesan (more if you prefer and depending on how much zucchini you use)
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil

1. Combine zucchini, olive oil, salt, and pepper in large bowl and toss to coat
2. Heat sauté pan over medium-high heat and add zuchhini
3. Saute, stirring every couple minutes until zucchini is lightly browned on both sides
4. Take off the heat and sprinkle Parmesan over zucchini, stirring and tossing to coat. Serve.

Sauted Green beans with Shallots

½ pound of green beans, ends trimmed
½ cup finely chopped shallots
½ tablespoon of unsalted butter
½ tablespoon of olive oil
½ teaspoon salt (emit if using salted butter)
¼ teaspoon black pepper

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil and add green beans. Boil for 2-3 minutes depending on preference for crispness. Drain and transport the green beans to a large bowl of ice water. When cooled, drain again and set aside.
2. Heat butter and olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat
3. When butter is melted, add shallots to pan and sauté until just starting to turn golden.
4. Add green beans to sauté pan and sauté until shallots are just browning and green beans are heated through. Serve.

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.