Thursday, January 15, 2015


 I messed up big time. I first made this dish (by Melissa Clark via Elly Says Opa) on May 7, 2013. I took a photo. I recall enjoying my meal. Then, for some reason, the recipe languished untouched in my “Try Again” file for the next year and a half—so long I couldn’t even remember why it was there anymore. Was it blogworthy? Was it worth revisiting? When are blood oranges in season, again?

At last, seized by a recent fit of New Year’s-inspired mental housecleaning, I spotted blood oranges at the farmers’ market and decided to release the recipe from its limbo one way or another. And the joke’s on me, because this is one of the most delicious chicken recipes I’ve made in recent memory, and we all could have been eating it on the regular for the past 18 months if I hadn’t been such a putz. An unusual assortment of super-flavored ingredients are pureed into a vibrant green paste somewhat reminiscent of Cuban mojo sauce, but with the spicy bite of ginger in there too. I actually wouldn’t say the smoked paprika and blood orange of the title are the dominant tastes (in fact, I don’t see much reason why you couldn’t just use a regular orange, except that blood oranges are cool and I never remember to buy them otherwise)—cilantro and jalapeno are at the forefront for me, but maybe that’s just because I can’t resist using double or more the quantity of cilantro (2 tablespoons just looks so scant!). I’ve always been a sucker for tomatillo salsa, green chutney and Peruvian green sauce, and this fit right into that family.

After some marinating (a whole day is preferable) and a stint in the oven, you get tender, burnished, brightly flavored roasted chicken and a sauce so fantastic you’ll want to make sure you have something to soak it up. I highly recommend baking a batch of Smoked Paprika Roasted Potatoes along with the chicken and then drizzling them with the pan juices. Throw in something green (asparagus or green beans or salad) and you’ve got a lively, mostly hands-off dinner for just about any season. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on it for so long.

1 teaspoon orange zest
¼ cup freshly squeezed orange juice, preferably blood orange
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2-4 tablespoons cilantro
1 jalapeño, seeded if desired, chopped
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger root
1¼ teaspoons kosher salt
¾ teaspoon smoked paprika
1¾ to 2 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs, drumsticks, or whole legs
Sliced scallions, cilantro, and orange wedges for serving
  1. In a blender or food processor, combine the orange zest and juice, olive oil, garlic, cilantro, jalapeño, ginger, salt, and paprika. Blend until pureed. Combine the chicken and marinade in a large bowl; cover and refrigerate 1 to 24 hours.
  2. Preheat the oven to 475 degrees. Place the chicken and its marinade in a 9-by-12-inch baking dish and roast until skin is browned and meat juices are no longer pink, about 45 minutes. Serve drizzled with juices and sprinkled with scallions and cilantro, with orange wedges for squeezing over the meat.
Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour, plus 1 to 24 hours of marinating
Leftover potential: Good.

Thursday, January 08, 2015


Let’s just forget about my previous cauliflower soup. That perfectly serviceable recipe made cauliflower palatable to me, but this curry-spiked one (from Food and Wine via Joy the Baker) renders it downright delicious. All of you who are freezing your butts off in the wintery parts of the country should cook this ASAP. Rich and creamy (but not heavy), with warming toasted spices (my first time using cumin seeds and I’m a convert!) and a gentle sunny hue, it’s a bowl of comfort and cheer that fits right in with your eat-more-vegetables resolutions. I know I’m as guilty as any food blogger of tossing around clichés and hyperbole, but this soup honestly was a revelation for me. If I’d managed to post it before the 31st, it would have made the 2014 favorites list, even in a field of heavyweight contenders.

I suspect you could leave out the butter if you want to lighten things up, but I wanted to make the recipe as written the first time and it was so wonderful I’m not sure I dare to mess with it—but maybe I’ll try decreasing to 2 tablespoons and see how it goes. I added about ½ to 1 cup more broth, because I like my pureed soups on the thinner side, and probably a bit more yogurt as well, because it really is a genius finishing touch—adding creaminess (especially if you use Greek yogurt) but also that zip of acidity that most pureed vegetable soups cry out for. Joy suggested pairing this with “some sort of cheesy bread situation,” and following her advice is an excellent call; alternating spoonfuls of soup with bites of melted sharp cheddar on baguette was heavenly.

1 large head cauliflower (1½ to 2 pounds), halved, cored, and cut into 1.5-inch florets
1 heaping teaspoon cumin seeds
1 heaping teaspoon curry powder
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt and crushed red pepper flakes to taste
1 small to medium onion, diced (about 1 cup)
1 clove garlic, minced
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 bay leaf
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
¼ cup plain yogurt
  1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spread cauliflower florets on a large rimmed baking sheet (lined with parchment if desired for easier cleanup) and sprinkle with cumin seeds and curry powder. Drizzle with 3 tablespoons olive oil and toss to coat. Season with a big pinch of salt and another of red pepper flakes. Place in the oven and roast until just tender, about 25 minutes
  2. In a large pot over medium heat, warm the last tablespoon of olive oil. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook for 1 minute more. Add the roasted cauliflower to the pot along with the butter, bay leaf, and broth. Simmer over medium heat until liquid has reduced some and the cauliflower is very tender, about 15 minutes. Pick out and discard the bay leaf.
  3. In a blender, carefully puree the soup in two or three batches until very smooth. Return the soup to the saucepan and stir in the yogurt. Rewarm over medium heat, adding more broth to create a thinner consistency if you’d like. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Serves: 4 to 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great; freezes well.

Sunday, January 04, 2015


In my 2013 roundup, I spent a lot of time lamenting how infrequently I’d blogged that year. In 2014, I reached a new all-time low of just 32 posts. I still want to write more, but this year I’m not beating myself as much up over it. Reviewing those 32 recipes, I realized that nearly all of them are solid-gold keepers. Having limited time to blog can be frustrating, but at least it’s really helping the cream rise to the top. I try a lot of recipes that I never even bother to write about, because when I look back at the photos a month later (which is about how long I’m usually running behind on posting), I don’t feel like saying anything about them—a good sign that I might never bother cooking them again, either. With 550 recipes in my archives, I don’t have room in my life for new ones that are just OK.

The recipes that make it to Bookcook these days are the ones I can’t wait to tell someone about, the ones I want to urge everyone to try, the ones I’ve already made several times and already want to eat again. So even though this year only yielded a small pool of new posts, it was tough to choose favorites when so many have already become standbys. But here are the 10 that stood out as so magically tasty I can’t imagine life without them anymore.
  1. Chocolate Coconut Oatmeal Cookies: This was the first recipe I posted in 2014, and I correctly pegged it as a contender for the year-end best list. With three of my favorite cookie ingredients, how could they not be great? I did also used the word “favorite” a few months later to describe Soft Frosted Sugar Cookies, but ultimately, if I had to choose just one cookie to eat for the rest of my life, it would be these.  
  2. Carnitas: Meltingly tender, super-flavorful pork with very little effort = Miraculous.
  3. Roasted Tomato Pizza Margherita: A game changer. As written, it helped me use up extra cherry tomatoes all summer long. Even without the roasted tomato topping, the sauce is so good it’s become my go-to, supplanting the recipe I’d been using for 10 years. I haven’t looked back.
  4. Winter Panzanella: When I want a main-dish kale salad, this is it. The cheese, croutons, squash, and apple give it satisfying substance, and the flavors are phenomenal. Forget winter; I’ve been eating it year-round.
  5. Baked Egg Rolls: Deliciously crunchy and fairly wholesome, these made A especially happy and helped me get more comfortable with cabbage.
  6. Chicken Fajitas: An invaluably easy and crowd-pleasing weeknight staple.
  7. Potato Salad: The recipe that overcame my lifelong aversion, made me an instant convert, and got me through the interminable Southern California summer.
  8. Chocolate Peanut Butter Pudding: I love pudding, and I love chocolate with peanut butter. Win-win.
  9. Vanilla Roasted Pears: It doesn’t get much simpler or more transformative than this. Fruit for dessert will never be a letdown with this recipe.
  10. White Bean Chicken Chili: I got this one in just under the wire because I knew it was listworthy. A smart, vivid iteration of the comfort-food standard.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014


I’m rushing to post this before midnight so it can be eligible for my list of favorite 2014 recipes, because there’s no doubt it belongs there. Although I’m not a white chili connoisseur (I’ve heard of it but never eaten it), I see no reason to dispute Serious Eats’ claim that this is the best one. The Food Lab knows its stuff, and when that stuff is creamy, cheesy white beans with smoky-spicy chilies, lime, and plenty of cilantro, we should all just get on board.

The recipe sounds a little futzy, but let me assure you that it comes together easily, and there is a good reason for every step. Clever touches that put this head and shoulders above the rest include brining the beans in salty water (that old saw about salt making beans tough is the polar opposite of true), roasting the chilies for deeper flavor, poaching the chicken right in the soup until just tender, and pureeing some of the beans for extra creaminess. With a little patience, you get a bright, zesty, melty and ultra-satisfying stew with just the right balance of heat, freshness and richness.

A few miscellaneous notes: We found the spice level perfect, but you can use plain Monterey Jack if you’re worried that pepper Jack will put it over the top for you. The original recipe calls for a full pound of cheese, but 12 ounces seemed plenty generous to me; do what you like. I skipped the pickled jalapeno and juice because I didn’t feel like buying a whole jar/can, but now I know that this isn’t crazy spicy, I might add it last time—I can particularly see how the pickling juice would be nice, because I ended up adding extra lime juice to boost the acidity. I also skipped peeling the peppers in the broth; the original recipe says it’s easier, but having to then strain the broth and clean extra dishes didn’t sound worth it to me. The skins of the Anaheims and jalapenos slipped right off, but the poblanos did give me a little trouble. I ended up with a few scraps of skin still left on, but since the peppers just get pureed anyway, it wasn’t a big deal. (This might lead you to wonder why you should bother peeling the peppers at all, but since they get pretty blackened I think it would add too much burnt flavor.)

You should make this in 2015. Heck, if you hurry, you can make it tonight and end the year on a properly delicious upswing.

1 pound dried small white (Navy), Great Northern, or cannellini beans
Kosher salt
2 fresh poblano chilies
4 fresh Anaheim or Hatch chilies
2 jalapeño chilies
1 medium onion, peeled, trimmed, and split in half from top to bottom
8 medium cloves garlic
1 whole pickled jalapeño pepper, plus 2 tablespoons pickling liquid from the can (optional)
3 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil
1 quart homemade or store-bought low-sodium chicken stock
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (about 2 pounds)
3/4 to 1 pound shredded pepper Jack cheese, divided
2 tablespoons fresh juice, plus 1 lime cut into wedges for serving
1 cup roughly chopped fresh cilantro leaves, divided
4 to 6 scallions, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
  1. Place beans in a large bowl or pot and add 1 gallon (4 quarts) water. Add ¼ cup salt and stir until dissolved. Cover and let rest at room temperature at least 8 hours and up to 24. Drain and rinse beans.
  2. Adjust broiler rack to 8 inches below broiler element and preheat broiler to high. Place poblanos, Anaheims, jalapeños, onion, and garlic on a foil-lined rimmed baking sheet. Toss with one tablespoon oil, using your hands to coat. Season with salt to taste. Broil, turning peppers and rearranging vegetables occasionally, until peppers are blackened on all sides and skins are wrinkled all over, 15 to 20 minutes total. Gather up foil and form a sealed pouch. Let chilies rest for 5 minutes.
  3. Peel chilies, discard seeds and skin, and transfer flesh to the cup of a hand blender or a standing blender. Add broiled onion, broiled garlic, and the pickled jalapeño pepper (if using; don’t add the pickling liquid yet). Blend until a smooth purée is formed. Set aside.
  4. Heat remaining oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add cumin and coriander and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add chili purée and cook, stirring, until incorporated.
  5. Add chicken broth, soaked beans and chicken breasts to pot, adding water as necessary until beans and chicken are fully submerged. Bring to a boil, reduce to a bare simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until chicken breasts register 150°F on an instant-read thermometer, about 15 minutes.
  6. Use tongs or a slotted spoon to transfer chicken breasts to a bowl and let rest. Continue simmering broth and beans until beans are fully tender, about 1 hour total. Remove 1½ cups of beans and their liquid, and transfer to a standing blender or the work cup of an immersion blender. Blend until completely smooth. Stir back into pot.
  7. Shred chicken into bite-sized pieces and stir back into stew. Stir in half of cheese until melted. Stir in jalapeño pickling liquid (if using), lime juice, and half of cilantro. Season to taste with salt.
  8. Serve topped with extra shredded cheese, lime wedges, cilantro, and scallions. Tortilla chips make a nice accompaniment.
Serves: 6-8
Time: 2 hours, plus 8-24 hours to soak beans
Leftover potential: Excellent; freezes well.

Wednesday, December 03, 2014


I first made this Smitten Kitchen recipe during a visit from my parents. I recall it being easy, elegant, and enjoyed by all. I failed to get a photo, bookmarked it for a repeat attempt…and then about four years went by, for no good reason. I don’t make dessert that often, I never buy that many pears, I’m out of vanilla beans—I don’t know what my excuses were, but they all seem flimsy in retrospect. Because finally, last month, when I happened to have a surplus of ripe, ungainly little Bartletts (farmers’ market seconds left over from a canning project), I revisited it and fell in love all over again. A one-dish dessert that transforms a handful of basic ingredients into meltingly tender, tart-sweet fruit bathed in a fragrant caramelized sauce—how could I have wasted so much of my life not eating roasted pears?

Friends, don’t be like me. These pears will make you feel like a culinary rock star without breaking a sweat, help you celebrate the pear harvest in style, wow your dinner party guests with a sophisticated and seemingly effortless finale, or let you whip up a fairly wholesome weeknight treat. I have no doubt that they would be delicious over ice cream, topped with cream or crème fraiche, served with a cheese plate or spooned over oatmeal, but I have yet to do more than eat them straight from the pan. It may be counterintuitive to post this recipe during the holiday season, the one time of year when I feel compelled to tackle ambitious baking projects, yet it’s an excellent reminder that the simplest things really are often the best.

¼ cup sugar
½ vanilla bean (or a whole one if you’re feeling decadent)
1½ pounds ripe or slightly underripe medium pears, peeled if desired (but not necessary), halved though the stem and cored
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. 
  2. Place the sugar in a small bowl. With a thin, sharp knife, split the vanilla bean lengthwise in half and scrape out the seeds. Stir the seeds into the sugar.
  3. Arrange the pears in a large baking dish, cut side up. Drizzle the lemon juice evenly over the fruit, then sprinkle with the sugar. Nestle the vanilla pod pieces among the fruit. Pour the water into the dish and dot each pear with some butter.
  4. Roast the pears for 30 minutes, brushing them occasionally with the pan juices. Turn the pears over and continue roasting, basting once or twice, until tender and caramelized, 25 to 30 minutes longer (a paring knife poked into the thickest part of one should meet with no resistance).
  5. Serve warm, topped with the caramelized drippings from the pan.
Serves: About 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; leftover pears can be eaten cold or reheated briefly in the microwave.

Friday, November 07, 2014


This recipe is ideal for the time of year I always complain about, when the rest of the nation wraps up in wooly sweaters and sips hot cider while Southern California swelters into November. This year has been particularly brutal, leading me to spend long hours staring into my closet, wondering why I even bother owning long-sleeved clothing. Craving pumpkin-spice flavor while breaking a sweat at the thought of anything served above room temperature doesn’t leave much room for fall treats. One day, dreaming wistfully of steaming pumpkin baked oatmeal while it was plainly still granola weather, I thought, “Is there such a thing as pumpkin granola?”

I shouldn’t have even questioned it; I think the second rule of the Internet must be that there is a pumpkin variation of every possible foodstuff. (The first rule is something to do with cat videos.) I found a number of candidates but couldn’t settle on one; some looked too sweet, others didn’t contain much actual pumpkin. Then, the very day I was drawing up my grocery list, Budget Bytes published exactly what I was looking for. Well, almost exactly—I did swap in coconut oil for vegetable oil, maple syrup for honey, my own spice blend for pumpkin pie spice, and pecans for sunflower seeds. I left out the cranberries because I wasn’t in the mood for dried fruit, but might have added some pepitas if I had them, for a double hit of pumpkin power. However you choose to approach it, the result is an orange-hued, clustery granola with real pumpkin spice flavor that makes for a delicious autumnal breakfast treat. This was the first time I’d deviated from my go-to granola recipe in 10 years, but I’m glad I made room in my life for a seasonal alternative.

1 15-ounce can pumpkin puree
½ cup brown sugar
¼ cup coconut oil
2 tablespoons maple syrup (preferably Grade B)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
⅛ teaspoon ground cloves
⅛ teaspoon ground allspice
½ teaspoon salt
6 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
½ cup chopped pecans (pepitas would also be good here)
½ cup dried cranberries, chopped (optional)
  1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
  2. In a medium saucepan, combine the pumpkin, brown sugar, oil, maple syrup, vanilla, spices, and salt. Stir and cook over medium-low heat for 3 to 5 minutes, or until mixture is heated through and the sugar has dissolved.
  3. In a large bowl, combine the dry oats, pecans, and pumpkin mixture. Stir very well (mixing with your hands works best) until the oats are evenly coated with pumpkin and there are no dry oats left in the bottom of the bowl.
  4. Spread the oat mixture over two baking sheets covered with parchment paper. Bake the oats in the preheated oven for 45 to 60 minutes, or until they are mostly dry, stirring every 15 minutes.
  5. Once the oats are finished cooking, sprinkle in the chopped cranberries if desired, stir, then let cool completely. Once cool, store in an airtight container for up to a week.
Serves: About 8
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

Thursday, October 09, 2014


I know it’s fall for the rest of you, but here in L.A. the hot, dry weather persists. I’m aching for a cool breeze right now, but at least it doesn’t feel strange to still be catching up on my summer recipes. This one hearkens all the way back to when I gambled on trying potato salad for the first time (and won in a big way). I wanted something appropriately picnic-like to accompany it, and also to round out a valid meal in case it turned out I hated potato salad. Sweet, smoky, spicy barbecue seemed like the perfect balance for all that creamy starchiness, but since the salad was fairly labor-intensive I wanted the second dish to be as easy as possible. Baking up some chicken in some sauce sounded about right.

I’ve made basic barbecue sauces before, for pizza and sandwiches, but since the sauce would be the main event here, I thought I should try something a little more complex. Unfortunately, the first recipe I chose was Not So Great. I had to make and apply a dry rub, sear the (bone in, skin-on) chicken on the stove, make and apply the sauce, then bake it in the oven, and both the rub and the sauce were loaded with sugar. It was perfectly edible, but a hassle. The next time around, I went straight to the boneless, skinless chicken thighs—way less fuss to make, and easier to eat too. For the sauce, I searched high and low to find something that looked like it wasn’t too sweet and had enough flavor complexity without calling for any extra steps (dicing an onion, etc.) or special ingredients I don’t normally keep on hand (like chipotle chiles). As is often the case, I found exactly what I wanted at Serious Eats, aptly labeled Basic Barbecue Sauce. Because one of the ingredients is “your favorite barbecue rub,” I had to find a separate seasoning recipe and do some clever math to get the quantities right, but it was all worth it.

Barbecue sauce is a controversial topic (for instance, many purists cringe to see a recipe calling for ketchup), but this one suits me to a T. It’s still got some sweetness, but also acid and plenty of spice—in fact, I dial down the Tabasco a bit now, because the full amount was making my lips burn. You could bathe just about anything in this and it would taste delicious. The amounts below are for a half-recipe, which is roughly the amount you need for the chicken recipe with a little to spare, but the sauce keeps a long time in the fridge, so consider going for the full batch and you can have this meal again soon. You’ll definitely want it.

1 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon molasses
1 tablespoon prepared yellow mustard
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
½ teaspoon paprika
¼ teaspoon chili powder
¼ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
¼ teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon mustard powder
1/8 teaspoon onion powder
1/8 teaspoon garlic powder
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1½ pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
  1. Combine all of the ingredients except chicken in a nonreactive saucepan, and slowly bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low or low, and gently simmer until dark, thick, and richly flavored, 10 to 15 minutes. (Sauce can be made ahead of time; store in a sealed glass container in the refrigerator.)
  2. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and line a large baking sheet with foil.
  3. Place the chicken in a large bowl and add about ½ cup of the barbecue sauce. Toss well until the chicken is completely coated. Arrange the chicken on the baking sheet.
  4. Bake chicken for 20-30 minutes, or until cooked through. Baste with additional barbecue sauce and place under the broiler for a few minutes, until the sauce just starts to bubble. Serve with more sauce if desired.
Serves: 4-5
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good, and any extra, unused sauce will keep in a sealed container in the fridge for up to several months.