KALE, STRAWBERRY, AND AVOCADO SALAD

I’m still desperately trying to play catchup here, but at least I’ve reached a recipe that seems more seasonally appropriate for today (i.e., isn’t soup). My goal is to have kale salads for all seasons, and here’s my spring edition—Southern California spring, at least, but more like summer everywhere else…so, see, I’m not late with this at all! I wouldn’t necessarily have thought to combine bitter leafy greens with sweet berries, creamy avocado, and crunchy poppy seeds, but the blend really works. Bright lemon vinaigrette is perfect as always (I can’t recall, but I’m guessing I left out the honey, because I like my dressings acidic), almonds add more texture and some protein, and feta brings its usual salty cheesy goodness. Regrettably, my salad didn’t turn out as picture-perfect as the original version over at Two Peas and Their Pod—especially if your strawberries and avocado are very ripe, they’ll begin to break down somewhat as soon as you start mixing everything—but its pinks, reds, whites, and greens were still pretty, and I loved its fresh, grassy flavors. Oh kale, what can’t you do?

1 bunch Tuscan kale (about 4-5 cups), stems removed, leaves chopped
1 cup sliced strawberries
1 avocado, peeled and chopped
⅓ cup sliced almonds
¼ cup feta cheese
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon honey
½ teaspoon poppy seeds
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Put the kale in a large bowl.

2. In a small bowl or jar, combine the olive oil, lemon juice, honey, poppy seeds, salt, and pepper. Shake or whisk until mixed well.

3. Add most of the dressing to the kale and mix it together with your hands, massaging gently until the kale is well coated. If you have time, let the dressed kale sit for 15-30 minutes.

4. Add the strawberries, avocado, almonds, and feta cheese. Toss gently. Add the rest of the dressing as needed and toss gently to coat. Season with additional salt and pepper as needed.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: With the berries and avocado, it doesn’t hold up as sturdily as other kale salads I’ve tried, but it’s fine for a few days.

KALE AND WHITE BEAN SOUP

You can tell I’m still catching up on recipes from a few months ago, when all these vegetable soups were just what I needed to bridge the gap between warm, comforting chilly-evening food and the fresh flavors of spring. I found this one on Epicurious (from the dearly departed Gourmet) because I was very specifically containing something with white beans, sausage, and kale—a classic combination but not one previously represented in my repertoire. It turned out to be exactly what I’d been hoping for…with one minor exception. The recipe claims it makes “6 main-dish servings,” but with 13 cups of liquid going into it, I should have known better. We like hearty portions, but I don’t see how this could only yield six bowls of soup unless they were huge mixing bowls. When I was portioning it out, I had to keep grabbing more containers out of the cupboard to hold it all, until every available surface in the kitchen was covered with bowls of soup, like some sort of I Love Lucy routine. I don’t exactly remember, but I think I got at least 10 generously sized servings. It didn’t end up being a problem—at least four of those servings went directly into the freezer, where they kept well and came in handy later—but it felt a little out of control at the time. Mostly I was just surprised that Gourmet would be so wildly off-base. (The recipe also just called for “8 carrots,” without any detail about what size. Eight of the petite carrots you buy in bunches at the farmers’ market in the spring, maybe, but definitely not eight big, fat, mature carrots. My carrots were medium-sized and after I’d cut up six, I had more than enough; any more and it would have been carrot and white bean soup. I’ve tried to clarify quantities in the recipe below.)

While I was skimming the Epicurious comments to see if other people had the same experience with the vast soup surplus (I didn’t make it through 132, but surprisingly few mentioned it), I saw a number of suggestions for further enhancements. I don’t think it really needs much help, especially if you take the original recipe’s advice and make it a day ahead of time so the flavors have time to deepen, but some of the ideas do sound good, like replacing a cup of the water with white wine, adding red pepper flakes, sprinkling Parmesan on top, or stirring in fresh lemon juice. A number of reviewers enthusiastically recommended putting a poached egg on top of each serving (or as one comment put it, “poached egg, poached egg, POACHED EGG!”), and that sounds awesome. Next time I make this, when fall is rolling around, that will happen.

1 pound dry white beans, such as Great Northern, cannellini, or navy
2 medium onions, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
5 cups chicken broth
8 cups water
1 (3-by-2-inch) piece Parmigiano-Reggiano rind
2 teaspoons salt, plus extra to taste
½ teaspoon black pepper, plus extra to taste
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1 pound smoked sausage, such as kielbasa (I used chicken andouille), sliced crosswise ¼ inch thick
4 large, 6 medium, or 8 smallish carrots, halved lengthwise and cut crosswise into ½-inch pieces
1 pound kale (preferably lacinato), stems and center ribs discarded and leaves coarsely chopped

1. Cover beans with water by 2 inches in a pot and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and let stand, uncovered, 1 hour. Drain beans in a colander and rinse.
2. Cook onions in oil in an 8-quart pot over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, 4 to 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add beans, broth, 4 cups water, cheese rind, 2 teaspoons salt, ½ teaspoon pepper, bay leaf, and rosemary and simmer, uncovered, until beans are just tender, about 50 minutes.
3. While soup is simmering, brown sausage in batches in a heavy skillet over moderate heat, turning, then transfer to paper towels to drain. (If your sausage is precooked and relatively lean, you can skip this step if you like.)
4. Stir carrots into soup and simmer 5 minutes. Stir in kale, sausage, and remaining 4 cups water and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until kale is tender, 12 to 15 minutes. Season soup with salt and pepper to taste.

Serves: 8-12
Time: 2½ hours
Leftover potential: Great! Makes a ton, tastes even better the next day, and freezes well.

SPINACH SOUP WITH GARLIC THYME CROUTONS

I have several green soups in my repertoire—broccoli, asparagus, zucchini, and even green bean (the point at which I actually had the short-sightedness to declare that my collection of pureed green soups was complete)—but somehow I’ve missed out on the most obvious variety. Of course spinach is ideal for soup because it you can cram a lot of it in there and it shrinks down to practically nothing. But spinach soup never sounded especially appealing to me until this Joy the Baker recipe caught my eye. So many pureed vegetable soups risk being bland, especially when potatoes are involved, so I look for big added flavors to keep things interesting, and this one had some of my faves, red pepper flakes and lemon juice, as well as an intriguingly large dose of dried thyme. (You might be tempted to use fresh, but I think dried has its own unique character and works well here.) The soup is great, fresh and green and velvety, but let’s face it, the croutons are the big stars here. Their spicy, salty, herby, garlicky, unrepentantly buttery crunch make this soup a knockout. A isn’t a fan of pureed soups and almost never eats the leftovers, but a plentiful supply of croutons was enough to lure him back for a second helping the next day. And I may be a vegetable soup lover anyway, but I’m not made of stone, and I found the crunchy, seasoned bread bites irresistible.

Making my own croutons isn't a revelation for me, but I’d never thought to put them on soup before. Now that I’ve started, I want to put them on everything.

Croutons:
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tablespoon dried thyme
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt to taste
4-6 heaping cups stale bread cubes
Soup:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon salt, plus extra to taste
2 cups peeled, diced red potatoes
4 cups low-sodium chicken stock (or vegetable stock)
6 heaping cups fresh spinach leaves
Juice of half a lemon

1. To prepare the croutons, preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, place bread cubes on the parchment, and set aside. Heat oil and butter in a medium sauté pan until butter is melted. Add sliced garlic and cook for 3 minutes. Remove garlic from the pan and discard. Remove pan from the heat, add thyme and red pepper flakes, and stir to combine. Drizzle melted butter mixture over the bread cubes. Sprinkle generously with salt and toss with your hands, then spread cubes out in a single layer. Bake for 12-14 minutes or until bread is golden brown and crisp.

2. To prepare the soup, heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, thyme, red pepper flakes, and ½ teaspoon salt and sauté for 2 minutes. Add potatoes and sauté for 3 minutes more.

3. Pour in chicken stock and bring to a low simmer. Simmer for about 15 minutes, or until potato chunks are cooked through. Reduce heat to low and add spinach leaves. Stir and cook spinach down in the hot broth for about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and puree soup with an immersion blender, or in a regular blender or food processor in batches. Once soup is pureed, stir in lemon juice and season with salt to taste.

4. Ladle soup into bowls and garnish with croutons.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; store leftover croutons separately from soup.

CHIPOTLE-ROSEMARY ROASTED NUTS

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a habitual snacker, but I’m terrified of being hungry—it makes me cranky and weak and shaky and indecisive. So I always feel better when I’ve got something to nibble on just in case, and nothing staves off my hunger pangs more than a handful of nuts. Having snacks on hand became especially important when I started my new job. Spending all day trying to learn the ropes is exhausting and overwhelming to begin with, but the company was extra busy and short-staffed when I came on board, so I was working incredibly hard right off the bat. I made sure that I was always supplied with a little container of nuts to feed my brain in the midmorning and late afternoon, but I burned through my small repertoire of roasted-nut recipes fairly quickly and decided to start in on my backlog of bookmarked new versions. This one, from Ina Garten via Eggs on Sunday, is a bit on the sweeter side than what I usually aim for, but boy howdy, is it delicious. A has declared it the all-time best, and I’m not inclined to argue.

Garten is also the creator of my special-occasion (specifically, Christmastime) nut recipe, Rosemary Roasted Cashews, and this shares some of the same ingredients and mix of sweet-spicy-salty-savory elements but takes everything up several notches. Here we have rosemary again, but also orange juice and zest, maple syrup, and a generous dose of smoky chipotle chili. The result is well-balanced and irresistible. And even though I had to laugh at the odd quantities of the different nuts called for in the recipe (basically, lots of cashews, a medium amount of walnuts and pecans, and just a few almonds, all adding up, inexplicably, to 31 ounces—for pete’s sake, why not two pounds, Ina?), I did follow it precisely for experimentation’s sake and loved the variety of the mixture. I used the bulk section at Whole Foods to get the exact amounts called for, but if it’s easier for you to buy prepackaged nuts, there’s no reason you couldn’t use, say, half cashews and half pecans and round up the quantities to an even number of pounds.

The first time I made this, I halved it because it seemed like a lot and nuts are expensive, y’all. I baked the nuts for exactly the time specified (I wasn’t thinking; I should have reduced it) and came within a hair’s breadth of burning them. They were still tasty, but decidedly on the dark—er, caramelized—side. The second time, I made the full recipe, but foolishly followed the instructions to the letter and plopped them all on a single baking sheet, even though there wasn’t room to spread them out in a single layer. Consequently, they took forever to cook. I baked them for about 15 minutes longer than the recipe said to, and they were still a little sticky when I took them out. I convinced myself they’d firm up when they cooled, but they remained a little chewy even then. Again, still tasty, but I feel as though I’ve yet to execute the recipe perfectly. I did correct the directions below to use two baking sheets if you’re making the full batch. Which you really should, because if they’re so delicious when I’ve messed them up, imagine how good they’ll be when I finally get them right!

3 cups whole roasted unsalted cashews (14 ounces)
2 cups whole walnut halves (7 ounces)
2 cups whole pecan halves (7 ounces)
½ cup whole almonds (3 ounces)
2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil
1/3 cup pure maple syrup
¼ cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice
Zest of half an orange
2 teaspoons ground chipotle powder
4 tablespoons minced fresh rosemary leaves, divided
2-3 teaspoons coarse kosher salt

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

2. In a large bowl, stir together the nuts, oil, maple syrup, brown sugar, orange juice and zest, and chipotle powder. Toss to coat the nuts evenly. Add 2 tablespoons of rosemary and 1 to 2 teaspoons of kosher salt, and toss again.

3. Divide the nuts between the two baking sheets and spread them out in a single layer. Roast for 25 minutes, stirring about halfway through, until glazed and golden brown. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with another teaspoon or so of salt and the remaining 2 tablespoons of minced rosemary.

4. Stir well and set the nuts aside on their baking sheets to cool at room temperature, stirring occasionally to prevent them from sticking together too much as they cool. Store in an airtight container.

Serves: 12-16
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; will keep in a sealed container at room temperature for at least a week, or can be frozen indefinitely.

MUSHROOMS AND POACHED EGG ON CHEESY TOAST

It is both tantalizing and frustrating to be hungry for something extremely specific. I’m not sure why this particular craving popped up now (it may have something to do with starting a new job and needing comfort food), but about four years ago I had mushrooms on toast for the first time, at the restaurant on the second floor of the co-op in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, and I have thought of that meal intermittently ever since. I can’t even remember the precise details of the original dish, except that it was both new to me and delicious, yet somehow it evolved into a very particular desire to make my own mushrooms on toast, with cheese and a poached egg. Although it sounds simple enough to go out and do on one’s own, I first searched to see what recipes were available online, because I am a wimp like to follow directions.. Rather surprisingly, I combed through pages and pages of results without finding exactly what I was looking for. (Granted, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for, but I figured I’d know it when I saw it.) Apparently, I was just going to have to improvise and hope it fed my craving.

I started with this mushrooms on toast recipe from The Kitchn, doubling the quantity because I wanted it to be a main dish and leaving out the crème fraiche because I was planning on adding cheese. I wanted my toast to be sturdy enough to hold the toppings, so I toasted it lightly in the toaster first, even though I would also be running it under the broiler at the end to melt the cheese. I couldn’t decide whether the cheese should go under or over the mushrooms, so A suggested I do both, which turned out to be a wise decision. The little layer of cheese under the mushrooms helped them adhere to the toast, and the layer on top, of course, became all browned and crisp under the broiler. I used Asiago because it has an assertive flavor that goes well with mushrooms, but mostly because I had some in the fridge that I wanted to use up. I could see Gruyere, Pecorino Romano, Parmesan, or even a sharp cheddar working too. At the end, I plopped poached eggs on top, tossed an arugula salad on the side, and hoped for the best.

Did it taste anything like that inspirational brunch dish from LaCrosse? I couldn’t tell. No Proustian memories came rushing back when I took my first bite. Was it delicious? Absolutely. And did it satisfy my naggingly specific hunger? Yes! I wouldn’t change a thing next time. It made a surprisingly hearty meal (my slices of bread were on the large side) that had to be tackled with a knife and fork, yet it had a certain casual, homey, I-just-threw-this-together elegance to it. We both enjoyed it, but deep down I’m especially pleased that I managed to give myself exactly what I wanted.

1 pound cremini mushrooms, washed and thickly sliced
1 shallot, minced (about 2 tablespoons)
1 large clove of garlic, minced (about 2 teaspoons)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
A splash of white wine
Shredded Asiago or Gruyere cheese (sharp cheddar, Parmesan, or Pecorino Romano would also work)
4 slices of rustic bread, lightly toasted
4 eggs

1. Heat the oil in a large skillet on medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add all the mushrooms and give the pan a quick shake to distribute them in an even layer. Let them sit without stirring to take on some color, about 1 minute or so. Watch carefully and lower heat if they begin to burn, but keep it as high as possible.
2. Stir the mushrooms and cook for another minute or so until evenly colored. Sprinkle on a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper. Add the shallot, stir briefly, and cook for 30 seconds. Add the wine, the garlic, and the thyme and remove from the heat. The pan should be hot enough to keep cooking everything (the wine will probably evaporate on contact).
3. Heat water for poaching eggs.
4. Preheat the broiler and place the pieces of toast on a baking sheet. Top each one with a light sprinkling of cheese, one-fourth of the mushrooms, and more cheese to taste. Broil just until cheese is melted and top is lightly browned.
5. Meanwhile, poach eggs. Serve the eggs atop the mushroom-cheese toasts.

Serves: 2
Time: 25 minutes
Leftover potential: No.

PARMESAN-ROASTED CAULIFLOWER

Well, we survived—and even enjoyed—the soup, so it was time to be brave and give cauliflower a shot in its natural form. Just after I made this momentous decision, I picked up a copy of Bon Appetit in the waiting room of my dentist’s office and voila! There was a gorgeous photo of some caramelized cauliflower, adorned with onions and thyme. When I read the barely-even-a-recipe paragraph-long description and realized there was cheese involved as well, it took all my good citizen instincts to restrain me from tearing out the page right then and there. (Instead, I very considerately and sensibly jotted down a note to myself to look up the recipe online when I got home.)

This is not only a cinch to make, but it’s also just as delicious as it looks. I used some beautiful orange cauliflower because I couldn’t resist it at the farmers’ market (doesn’t it look like it should be cheddar-flavored?) but otherwise followed directions exactly. As with most vegetables, roasting does magical things to cauliflower, and of course the sweet onion, pungent garlic, earthy thyme, and salty cheese make everything even better. My only complaint was that after a couple of bites, it seemed to cry out for a little acid to perk it up and balance out all the nutty, bitter notes. I didn’t actually give this a try, afraid of ruining things, and we happily made short work of all our cauliflower just as it was, but next time I’d like to try a roasted cauliflower recipe that includes lemon juice or balsamic vinegar, just to see how that goes. (The longer I’ve been cooking, the more I’ve noticed that I’m a bit of a tartness junkie. Tastes a bit bland? Add acid!) Regardless, this is a stellar recipe, especially if, like me, you’re a cauliflower skeptic.

1 large head cauliflower, cut into bite-sized florets
1 medium onion, cut into eighths
4 sprigs fresh thyme
4 medium unpeeled garlic cloves
3 tablespoons olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
½ cup grated Parmesan

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. On a large rimmed baking sheet (coated with parchment if desired), toss cauliflower, onion, thyme, garlic, and olive oil, then season with salt and pepper.
3. Roast, tossing occasionally, until almost tender, 35 to 40 minutes.
4. Sprinkle with Parmesan, toss to combine, and roast until cauliflower is tender and golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes longer. (The original recipe neglects to say what to do with the garlic, but I just peeled it after roasting and put one clove in each serving.)

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: OK.

BANANA BAKED OATMEAL

More baked oatmeal! I love it so. It’s incredibly comforting to have a warm, delicious breakfast ready to go on a chilly morning. My standard version is just dandy, but it turns out that fruit (or vegetable, in the case of pumpkin) puree adds tons of moisture and nutrients, as well as flavor. This version, amped up with walnuts, a bit of brown sugar, and cinnamon—which of course  I augmented with a little cardamom—in addition to the mashed banana, truly is reminiscent of banana bread. The recipe is from Budget Bytes, which has proven to be a veritable cornucopia of intriguing-sounding baked oatmeal options. The first time I set out to make it I ended up veering into this separate (but very similar) version, because I had some leftover blueberries in the fridge that were getting past their prime. It smelled wonderful while baking, but I didn’t particularly love the result. Granted, for most of my life I’ve been mildly grossed out by bananas and haven’t cared for blueberries in baked goods, but I thought those days were behind me. I still don’t eat whole bananas on their own, but I like them in other formats, including cake, cookies, pancakes, and pudding. And blueberry buttermilk cake is one of my very favorite summer desserts! Yet I didn’t enjoy the flavor or texture of the blueberry banana oatmeal; it was quite damp and overpoweringly banana-y, and the blueberries didn’t break down at all, and I’m sure it was my error or hangup and no fault of the recipe, but bleah.

Yet banana oatmeal still sounded potentially tasty to me, so I decided to give the non-blueberry recipe a try and just ease off on the banana slightly. The original recipe called for four medium bananas or 1½ cups mashed, so I bought three small ones, got about 1¼ cups of puree, and made up the liquid deficit by adding ¼ cup extra milk. I don’t know if using a tiny bit less banana really made such a difference, but something must have done the trick, because I enjoyed this oatmeal. It’s fluffy, not too sweet, properly banana-bread-esque without overwhelming the flavor of the oats, and keeps me full all morning. I love that I now have three different baked oatmeal variations I can rotate among, especially since I started my new job last month and definitely need to have convenient, nourishing breakfast treats on hand so I can fuel up for another intense day of learning what the heck I’m supposed to be doing! I bake up a big dish of oatmeal on the weekends and it keeps me happily fed all week long.

1 to 1½ cups mashed ripe bananas (about 3 to 4 medium)
⅓ cup brown sugar
2 large eggs
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 to 2½ cups milk (depending on how much banana you use; milk and banana together should total 3½ cups)
2½ cups old-fashioned rolled oats
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
⅛ teaspoon cardamom
½ cup chopped walnuts
Canola or coconut oil

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a large bowl, whisk the mashed bananas together with the brown sugar, eggs, salt, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Whisk in the milk, then stir in the oats. Roughly chop the walnuts and stir them in as well.
3. Oil the inside of an 8-by-8 glass baking dish. Pour in the oat mixture. Cover with foil (optional) and bake in the preheated oven for 30 minutes. Remove the foil (if using) and bake for another 15 minutes, or until the center is solid and the edges are slightly golden brown.
4. Serve warm or cold, topped with milk, yogurt, fruit, or whatever else you like.

Serves: 6 to 8
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great; will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for a week; reheat individual portions in the microwave. Note that the oatmeal may turn slightly gray as the banana oxidizes, but it will still be safe to eat.

LEEK FRITTERS WITH LEMON-GARLIC YOGURT SAUCE

Deb Perelman at Smitten Kitchen is a blogger after my own heart, especially where fritters are concerned. A peek at my archives reveals no less than 10 fritter recipes, and three of them are from Smitten Kitchen: Indian-spiced vegetable fritters, zucchini-ham-ricotta fritters, and some tasty broccoli Parmesan fritters I haven’t posted about yet because the first time I made them, I scarfed them down before they could be photographed. So as soon as The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook came out and I snagged a copy at the library, I hoped a new fritter twist would be waiting inside, and I wasn’t disappointed. Leek fritters, no less! With lemony sauce!

A doesn’t especially love leeks, so I waited to make these until he was out of town. Blanching the leeks and squeezing them dry was a slight hassle, but no worse than shredding and squeezing zucchini, and everything else came together easily. I got slightly fewer fritters than promised—more like 6 than 10—but perhaps I just made mine larger than I was meant to; at any rate, it was a perfect meal for one person with a small salad on the side, and maybe a few left over for lunch the next day. I wasn’t sure what to expect from a leek fritter, but these were surprisingly unobtrusive. The blanched leeks melt into the rest of the batter, giving them a tender interior with the usual crisp frittery exterior, and the oniony flavor is quite delicate, which makes the tang of the creamy, garlicky, lemony sauce (I used Greek yogurt instead of sour cream) a welcome contrast. And the springy green color is so lovely. I’m kicking myself for not trying these with a poached egg on top as the original recipe notes suggest, but that just gives me an excuse to make them again soon. It’s possible that A wouldn’t even hate them—but if he does, more for me!

On her blog, Perelman jokes that she may need a “frittervention,” but I hope she keeps the pan-fried-vegetable iterations coming. In the meantime, now that I’m cautiously tolerating cauliflower, I may need to try her cauliflower and feta fritter recipe.

2 pounds leeks (about 3 very large ones)
½ teaspoon table salt, plus more to taste
2 scallions, trimmed, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
Freshly ground black pepper
1 large egg
¼ cup olive oil
½ cup Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
A few gratings of lemon zest
1 small garlic clove, minced

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. While it heats, trim the leeks, leaving only the white and pale green parts. Halve them lengthwise and wash well under cold water. On a cutting board, slice crosswise into ¼-inch strips. When the water boils, add the leeks and cook for 3 to 4 minutes, until slightly softened but not limp. Drain and wring out in a dishtowel.
2. Transfer the leeks to a large bowl and stir in the scallions. In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, ½ teaspoon salt, baking powder, and black pepper to taste. Stir the dry ingredients into the leek mixture, then stir in the egg until the mixture is evenly coated.
   
3.  Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over medium heat until it shimmers. Drop heaping spoonfuls of the leek mixture into the skillet and flatten with the back of a spatula. Cook until golden underneath, about 3 minutes. Flip fritters and cook for about 3 more minutes, or until the other side is browned. Drain fritters on paper towels and then transfer them to a cooling rack (or a 250-degree oven if you want to keep them warmer) while you repeat the process with the remaining leek mixture.
   
4. While fritters cook, stir together yogurt, lemon juice and zest, garlic, and salt to taste in a small bowl. Serve atop the fritters.

Serves: 2
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK; cooked fritters can be stored in the fridge for up to a week and reheated in a dry skillet over medium heat (or, according to the original recipe, in a 325-degree oven). Perelman also says that they can also be frozen for months in a well-sealed package and reheated in the oven. 

SPINACH AND FETA PIES

Hand pies, hand pies! I feel like every hand pie recipe I’ve tried (this is my third) has been slightly troublesome in some way, yet I still love them. Because how could one not like filling enveloped in a flaky, buttery crust? In this case, the real “trouble” was only that I had way too much filling to fit inside the amount of puff pastry called for, necessitating the purchase of another box of pastry dough and the assembly of another four pies a few days after the initial eight. Maybe I was supposed to have filled them fuller, although I really don’'t see how I could be expected to cram more in there or stretch the dough any thinner. Since the unbaked pies keep very well in the freezer, ready to be whipped out and baked up for easy future weeknight dinners, this was actually a boon—except for the legitimate obstacle of finding good puff pastry dough. Most ordinary grocery stores only carry the Pepperidge Farm stuff, which I’ve used in a pinch but it has a scarily long list of ingredients, including partially hydrogenated oil and high-fructose corn syrup. Trader Joe’s has a great, reasonably priced all-butter puff pastry dough, but it turns out it’s considered a “seasonal” item and isn’t available year-round. After trying my luck at no less than three separate Trader Joe’s locations and coming up empty, I desperately turned to a gourmet grocery store in my neighborhood and bought a box of good-quality all-butter puff pastry for an embarrassingly high price ($10!). Then when I discovered I’d need even more pastry, I tried Whole Foods, where I found…that same brand of good-quality all-butter puff pastry, for the same exorbitant price. Reader, I paid it. Even having spent an atrocious $15 on puff pastry, the rest of the ingredients came so cheaply and I made so many pies that I figure they still averaged out to only a few dollars per serving. I’m sure DIY is the way to go here, but I just don’t foresee myself learning how to make pastry in the near future, so next time I see puff pastry in stock at Trader Joe’s, I’m filling up my freezer. But really, with all that butter, puff pastry is only a “sometimes food” anyway (as Cookie Monster would say), so its scarcity won’t ruin my life.

Beyond all these travails, the filling itself was really easy to make (except I really loathe defrosting and squeezing out frozen spinach; it gets everywhere) and delicious, reminiscent of spanakopita. Spinach + feta + lemon is a match made in heaven. I was first inspired to make these by a post on Budget Bytes that showed a similar filling baked into a single pie, also a nice idea (and it uses just one sheet of puff pastry, which is both cheaper and healthier) but I do love a hand pie, so some Internet searching turned up this even better version (because it uses feta too) at Small Time Cooks. (The original recipe is from Everyday Food, but for some reason it doesn’t show up on a search of the Martha Stewart site.) I love that the recipe included freezing directions, since puff pastry is best freshly baked; I’ll employ that technique with all other hand pies from now on.

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
40 ounces frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
2 cups crumbled feta
Juice from 1 large lemon (2–4 tablespoons)
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
Coarse salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 large egg, beaten with 2 tablespoons water, for egg wash
All-purpose flour, for work surface
1 to 1½ boxes frozen puff pastry, thawed but still cold (where each box is about 16 to 17 ounces and contains two sheets of pastry; start with two sheets, or one box, and use the third if you still have leftover filling)

1. In a medium skillet, heat oil over medium heat; add onions and garlic. Cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, 5 to 7 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl; mix in spinach, feta, lemon juice, and cayenne. Season filling with salt and pepper to taste, and set aside.
   
2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees, with racks in the upper and lower thirds.
   
3. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out each of two sheets of dough into a 12-inch square; cut each square into quarters to make 8 smaller squares. Dividing evenly, spoon filling onto the center of each of the 8 squares. Lightly brush two adjoining edges of each square with some egg wash. Fold these edges over filling to form a triangle; press firmly to seal (dough should be tightly pressed around filling). With a floured fork, crimp edges.
   
4. If you still have filling left over, repeat step 3 with the remaining sheet of dough to make 12 pies.
   
5. Transfer pies to two baking sheets (lined with parchment if desired); brush tops with remaining egg wash. Bake until golden and puffed, 35 to 40 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through.

Serves: Supposedly 8, with one pie apiece, but for me, this made 12 pies, and I sometimes ate 1.5 pies per serving, so 6-12
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good; already-baked puff pastry isn’t as good the next day (it tends to get kind of greasy, although it still tastes just fine). But it’s easy to freeze the raw pies and bake them later. Just place the unbaked pies on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and put them in the freezer for an hour or so; once they’re frozen, package them up (I just placed them in a Tupperware box with waxed paper between the layers, but you can also wrap them individually in plastic wrap and put them in a resealable plastic bag) and you can store them in the freezer for up to 2 months. To bake from frozen, just unwrap them and follow the directions in step 5, adding 5 to 10 minutes to the baking time if needed.

TOM KHA GAI

We used to have a favorite neighborhood Thai restaurant. When I first moved here, I was addicted to its fast, fresh, cheap, and delicious food, and since it was only a block away, we’d stroll over to pick up takeout on a regular basis. It was our go-to place to feed visitors, especially since it’s attached to the hotel where my parents always stay when they’re in town. Now that my own cooking has become much more frequent and adventurous, ordering takeout isn’t a regular part of our lives, but I still crave Thai food from time to time. And maybe I just overdosed on our place, but it just doesn’t seem quite as good to me as it once did. It’s undergone a change in name and management (although the décor and menu have remained similar enough that I’m pretty sure the new management is related to the old), and every time I walk past, it looks abandoned. I keep expecting to find it closed, and even though we no longer frequent it, that would make me sad, because then I’d have to go through all the hassle of finding a new Thai place (yes, I am a creature of habit).

Yet this still wouldn’t have been enough to inspire me to try replicating my favorite Thai restaurant dishes at home. I’ve gotten a bit bolder than I used to be about tackling Asian-inspired recipes (fish sauce now has a permanent place in my pantry), but I doubt my ability—or at least initiative—to concoct anything authentic enough to compete with a good restaurant. So when my friend S recommended this recipe from Cooking Light, I didn’t immediately jump to make it, despite the fact that tom kha gai had been our favorite soup order from the local Thai place. Honestly, it looked way too simple to be very good, and the reviews were somewhat mixed. But eventually I got curious and gave it a shot.

Is this especially authentic? No (it’s my understanding that galangal is a key ingredient of traditional tom kha gai, and that’s missing here). Is it as good as restaurant tom kha gai? No. But does it have more flavor than I expected a recipe this streamlined to have? Yes. And is it a delicious, ridiculously easy to make coconut chicken soup with mushrooms? Absolutely. A and I both thoroughly enjoyed it (he willingly late the leftovers, which is my barometer for determining whether he actually likes something, especially soup).

I was able to buy a single stalk of lemongrass at the farmers’ market, which was nice. I often use light coconut milk (mostly because that’s what Trader Joe’s has) but opted for the regular stuff here to avoid making the soup too thin, which I think was the right call (if even Cooking Light doesn’t specify light coconut milk, it may be a sign not to use it). I had to go with Vietnamese chili paste, sambal oelek, because my grocery store didn’t have a Thai version and had no time to go hunting, but the chili taste is subtle here, so I doubt it makes a very discernible difference; I actually ended up adding a teaspoon or so extra for more heat. (A lot of the Cooking Light commenters mentioned using “curry paste,” which is a different thing entirely; I’m not sure if they mistyped or misread.) I was confused by the direction to use “quarter-size pieces” of ginger (do I then remove them along with the lemongrass, or do I just have giant ginger chunks in my soup?), so I diced them as I do in most other recipes, but then I ended up having to chew a lot of ginger, so scratch that; I guess it’s better to leave the pieces big and then people can eat them or avoid them as they prefer.

Other than that I basically made the recipe as written, but with a bit more lime juice and mushrooms—I had an 8-ounce package and didn’t have a use for the leftovers, so I ended up putting in the whole thing, and I’ll admit the end result was very mushroomy (sort of like a Thai version of cream of mushroom soup). I didn’t mind it but will maybe cut back slightly next time. I also found myself hankering for a leafy green and might try adding a little baby bok choy in the future, even though it’s not strictly traditional. I served spring rolls on the side, although that upped the difficulty of the meal considerably, so next time I’ll probably just do a simple green salad instead for a truly effortless weeknight dinner.

14 ounces coconut milk
14 ounces reduced-sodium chicken broth
6 quarter-size slices fresh ginger
1 stalk fresh lemongrass, cut in 1-inch pieces
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast or thighs, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 cup sliced mushrooms (I used cremini)
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon Thai or Vietnamese fish sauce (nuoc mam or nam pla)
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon Thai chili paste
Salt to taste
¼ cup fresh basil leaves
¼ cup fresh cilantro

1. In a medium saucepan, combine coconut milk, broth, ginger, and lemongrass and bring to a boil over high heat.

2. Add chicken, mushrooms, lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, and chili paste. Reduce heat and simmer until chicken is firm and opaque, 5 to 10 minutes.

3. Discard lemongrass. Season soup with salt to taste. Portion into four bowls and garnish every serving with 1 tablespoon each basil and cilantro.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good (will separate as it cools, but just stir it back together when reheating).

CHOCOLATE OR BANANA BISCOFF WHOOPIE PIES

I had big plans for all kinds of wild cooking experiments to perform while I was unemployed, but then I only ended up being out of work for two weeks. (Yay, but also, sigh.) Making ricotta and crafting my own flour tortillas will have to wait, but I did manage to get together with my (also unemployed) friend S to bake some whoopie pies. I’ve always been a huge fan of sandwich cookies (probably more so than I’m a fan of actual sandwiches), but having to make a cookie and a filling always seems like too much of a pain for me to try at home. With a second pair of hands and a free afternoon, however, it was the perfect kitchen adventure.

We settled on whoopie pies fairly quickly (it helped that I’d received a mini whoopie pie pan for Christmas and was itching to try it out), but when it came time to choose which kind to make, I instantly became overwhelmed by all the available options. S suggested this chocolate Biscoff recipe from Gimme Some Oven, and since I hadn’t gotten around to trying Biscoff yet, I figured why not kill two tasty birds with one stone? (For those who don’t know, in the food blog world, Biscoff is the new Nutella. It’s a Belgian spread made from ground cookies called speculoos, which are gently spiced buttery biscuits.)

To maximize the adventure, we also started toying with the idea of making a second variety of whoopie pie. I was taken with these banana caramel ones from Annie’s Eats, but making another type of cookie, another type of filling, and a caramel to go into the filling sounded too crazily ambitious an undertaking. Then I mused that banana cookies would probably taste pretty great with Biscoff filling, and a plan was hatched: Make a double recipe of the filling and then both types of cookies. That way, we could get a little variety but keep our process manageably streamlined.

Our decision was even more spot-on than we could have suspected, because that Biscoff cream cheese filling is seriously one of the most delicious things I’ve ever made. I can’t even explain it, because I’ve tasted Biscoff cookies and haven’t really been into them (they’re sort of a lighter gingersnap). I tasted a bit of the spread when we cracked the jar open and liked it better; it tasted vaguely like graham crackers. But mixed with cream cheese (which I normally don’t even enjoy that much), sugar, and a bit of vanilla, it became transcendent. Something about the tart cream cheese balanced out the sweet, nutty cookie perfectly. I could happily eat it straight—and I did, to clean out the bowl—but it was dynamite with the cookies. The chocolate cookies were the best overall, tender and not too sugary, but the flavor overshadowed the filling somewhat (after tasting one, we went back and added more filling to the rest, since we had some extra); it was in the banana version that the Biscoff flavor really shone. I’d make either kind again in a heartbeat. They weren’t even as difficult to put together as I’d expected, although ours definitely turned out a bit “rustic” in shape. Really, the only problem is that I can’t stop eating them! Not only is the flavor great, but the texture of the big, soft, fluffy cookies with a layer of frosting in the middle is also wonderful—like portable, handheld cake. I’ll reserve them for special treats, but I’ll certainly make them again…even though my next bout of unemployment will hopefully be far in the future.

Chocolate Biscoff Whoopie Pies

Cookies:
1⅔ cups all-purpose flour
⅔ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1½ teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup milk

Filling:
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
½ cup Biscoff spread (aka speculoos cookie butter)
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup powdered sugar

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Line baking sheets with parchment paper or silicon mats.
   
2. In a medium bowl, sift together, flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt.
3. In a large bowl, beat butter and sugar with a mixer on low until just combined. Increase speed to medium and beat for about 2 minutes. Add egg and vanilla and beat for two more minutes. Add half of the flour mixture and half of the milk and beat on low until incorporated. Repeat with remaining flour and milk and beat until combined.
4. Drop batter on baking sheet in tablespoon-sized clumps, each about two inches apart. Bake for 10 minutes, or until cookies spring back when pressed gently. Remove from oven and cool for about five minutes before transferring them to a rack to cool completely.
5. Meanwhile, make the filling: Using an electric mixer, cream together cream cheese and Biscoff spread on medium speed until combined. Add vanilla and powdered sugar, and mix on low speed until sugar is incorporated. Stop mixer, and use a spatula to scrape the sides of the bowl. Increase speed to medium and mix for 1 more minute until well combined.
6. Once cookies are cooled, match them into pairs by size/shape. Spoon or pipe the filling onto the flat side of one cookie in the pair, and then top with the other cookie to make a whoopie pie. Repeat with remaining filling and cookies.

Yields: 24-36 whoopie pies
Time:  1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good. I didn't try freezing them because I thought they would get too hard and I knew we wouldn't need to store them for very long because they were getting eaten so quickly, but they were a bit sticky at room temperature, so I kept them in the fridge, which worked well.

Variation: Banana Biscoff Whoopie Pies

2 cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup mashed banana (about 1–2 bananas)
½ cup sour cream
½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup light brown sugar
1 large egg
½ tsp. vanilla extract
1 batch Biscoff filling (see above)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line baking sheets with silicone baking mats or parchment paper.
2. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt; whisk to blend, and set aside.
3. In a small bowl, combine the mashed banana and sour cream.
4. In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugars on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Blend in the egg and vanilla. With the mixer on low speed, add in the dry ingredients in three additions alternating with the banana mixture, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Mix each addition just until incorporated.
5. Drop batter onto prepared baking sheets in tablespoon-sized clumps, spacing a couple of inches apart. Bake until the cookies are just set and the bottom edges are starting to brown, about 10 to 12 minutes. Let cool on the baking sheets for 5 to 10 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.
6. Once the cookies are completely cooled, match them up in pairs by size. Spoon or pipe filling onto the flat side of one cookie of each pair, and sandwich the cookies together, pushing the filling to the edges. Store in an airtight container.

SWEET POTATO AND CORN FRITTERS

I love a good fritter, and after making chili-lime roasted squash salad recently, I’ve been intrigued by the combination of spicy southwestern flavors with sweet orange root vegetables, so when I saw this recipe at Budget Bytes, I…bit.

I halved the recipe because it promised to make a ton, and leftover fritters are never quite as good. Since it’s difficult to halve an egg, I took the suggestion from the original recipe to increase the breadcrumbs a bit, but maybe I needed to increase them more or maybe I had a bit too much sweet potato, because they turned out slightly damper than I think they were intended to. No big deal; I just had to dollop them into the pan rather than forming them into patties first, they were a little more difficult to flip, and they didn’t get quite as crisp as I’d hoped. The flavor, however, was spot on. Taking inspiration from the chili-lime squash, I added some chipotle chili powder, and the smokiness was a perfect foil for the sweetness of the potato and corn. And ironically, we still had some leftovers, and when I heated them up in a dry skillet the next day, that second frying dried them out a bit and achieved the crispy texture I’d been hoping for the first time around.

I served black bean salsa on the side because I thought it would be a great combo (which it was), but the fritters were much more filling than I expected, so really, a small green salad is probably all you need to accompany these. 

A isn’t a huge sweet potato fan (except in fry format), and he doesn’t usually like yogurt, but we both enjoyed these bold, colorful, and hearty patties with their creamy, garlicky sauce (to which I might add a bit of lime juice next time, to liven things up even further) as a fun and different addition to our fritter rotation.

1½ pounds sweet potatoes
½ cup frozen corn kernels
1 green onion, sliced
2 large handfuls (or to taste) chopped fresh cilantro, divided
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
½ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons yellow cornmeal
¾ cup panko
1 egg
¼ cup olive oil
½ cup plain Greek yogurt
1 small clove garlic, minced

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Scrub the potatoes, prick them all over with a fork, and place them on a rimmed baking sheet lined with foil. Bake until tender, about 45 minutes. Remove potatoes from oven and let cool until they can be handled, then cut them open and scoop the flesh into a large bowl, discarding the skin.

2. Add the green onions, 1 handful cilantro, frozen corn kernels, salt, cumin, chili powder, and cayenne pepper to the bowl with the cooked sweet potatoes. Stir until well combined.

3. Add the cornmeal, panko, and egg to the bowl. Stir until evenly combined. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes to allow the breadcrumbs to absorb moisture.

4. While the sweet potato mixture is refrigerating, mix up the garlic yogurt sauce. In a small bowl, combine the yogurt, garlic, and a handful of chopped cilantro leaves. Stir until combined and then refrigerate until ready to serve.

5. After the sweet potato mixture has refrigerated, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons oil and heat until the surface appears wavy. Shape the sweet potato mixture into small patties (about 2 to 3 tablespoons each) and cook about 4 at a time in the hot oil. Cook until golden brown on each side, about 5 minutes per side. After cooking, drain on a paper towel-covered plate and then transfer to a cooling rack. Add 2 more tablespoons oil to the skillet and repeat with remaining sweet potato mixture.

6. Serve warm with the garlic yogurt sauce.

Serves: 2–3
Time: 2 hours
Leftover potential: OK. Leftover fritters can be revived by heating in a dry skillet on the stovetop over medium heat until warmed through and crisp on both sides. (If you want, you can heat them for 30 seconds or so in the microwave first to ensure that the centers are warm.)

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER SOUP

I have long professed myself a disliker of cauliflower. I always thought of it as having a cabbagey taste and smell (I love that Mark Twain called it “cabbage with a college education”), and overall it just seemed like a more depressing version of broccoli--which does share that cabbage-like whiff, but at least has a lovely green color and flavor going for it. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t giving it a fair shake. Most of my encounters with cauliflower were raw, as a crudite surrounding a bowl of dip on a party platter, or floating around in a salad. I heard that, as with many difficult vegetables, roasting would transform cauliflower into something wonderful, but I was never brave enough to give it a shot.

A few years ago, A’s brother served us cauliflower soup as a first course at Thanksgiving dinner, and while I was suspicious, it tasted pretty good, not cabbagey at all. So when I spotted this cauliflower soup recipe in Cooking Light, I figured it would be the perfect way to bring cauliflower into my kitchen for the first time, since it featured both roasting to enhance the flavor and pureeing to obliterate the texture, plus a topping of prosciutto that I knew would entice A. And I was not wrong. I liked this soup, and A really liked it, several times specifically mentioning how good it was, and even willingly eating a leftover portion the next day, a rare compliment where soup is concerned. The soup itself is silky and subtle, with a delicate nutty flavor, and the ham-breadcrumb-almond-parsley topping adds interesting flavors, textures, and colors. It’s definitely a keeper; I made it basically as written and wouldn’t change a thing.

With this as my gateway drug, the next step is for me to try unpureed roasted cauliflower. If that’s a success and I decide to admit I don’t hate cauliflower anymore, then the list of vegetables I think I don’t like is growing pretty darn short. Which means that if I want any more challenges like this, getting to know Brussels sprouts is probably in my future.

8 cups cauliflower florets (about 1 large head or 2 medium)
2 teaspoons olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt, divided
Cooking spray or olive oil
4 thin slices prosciutto or other cured ham, chopped (about 2 ounces)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, divided
¾ cup chopped yellow onion
4 garlic cloves, chopped
4 cups unsalted chicken stock
1 cup water
½ cup half-and-half
1 ounce French bread baguette, torn into coarse crumbs (about ¼ cup)
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
¼ cup sliced almonds, toasted

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Place cauliflower in a large bowl, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon salt, and toss to coat. Arrange mixture in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet coated with cooking spray, a small amount of oil, or parchment. Roast for 40 minutes or until tender and browned, stirring once after 30 minutes.

3. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray or a small amount of olive oil. Add prosciutto and cook 3 minutes or until crisp. Remove and drain on paper towels. Melt 1½ teaspoons butter in pan. Add onion and garlic; sauté 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add cauliflower, stock, and 1 cup water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and stir in half-and-half. Place half of cauliflower mixture in a blender, and puree until smooth, then pour pureed soup into a bowl and repeat with remaining cauliflower mixture. (Alternatively, you can just puree the soup in the pan with an immersion blender.) Stir in remaining ¼ teaspoon salt.

4. Melt remaining 1½ teaspoons butter in a small skillet over medium heat and swirl to coat the bottom of the skillet. Add breadcrumbs and sauté 5 minutes or until golden, stirring frequently. Remove from heat. Combine ham, breadcrumbs, parsley, and toasted almonds. Ladle soup into each of four bowls, and top each serving with a quarter of the toasted breadcrumb mixture.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Great; I stored the toasted-breadcrumb topping mixture for the leftover portions separately from the soup in an attempt to keep it from getting too soggy, but I’m not sure how much of a difference that really made.

APPLE AND FENNEL SALAD

Can you believe this was my first time making a raw fennel salad at home? I fell in love with cooked fennel a couple of years ago, and shaved fennel has been a restaurant menu trend for a while, and I know that in its raw state it’s crisp and less licorice-tasting, yet still I delayed, believing, perhaps, that it would be a hard sell to A, or just feeling too lazy to slice something paper-thin. Then, while dining out, I had a salad that included fennel, and what do you know, it was incredibly delicious, and an obsession was born. I bookmarked about a million (or, you know, four) tantalizing-looking fennel salad recipes, but settled on this one from The Purple Foodie for my inaugural attempt because it’s otherwise quite similar to other salads I’ve made and enjoyed. You can’t go wrong with apples, greens, walnuts, cheese, and lemon vinaigrette, and it turns out that fennel fits in beautifully.

I really loved this salad, and I think A enjoyed it too. The fennel flavor is subtle, but its juicy crunch makes its presence felt and echoes the texture of the apple. I chose arugula as a base (the original recipe just called for salad greens), and its peppery flavor was perfect with the sweet apple, herby fennel, tart lemon, toasty nuts, and salty cheese. I threw some Dijon into the dressing, because that’s what I usually do with lemon vinaigrettes, and it did not go amiss. For some reason, the Parmesan shavings were a big revelation to me here, and in fact, a stripped-down version of this salad, just arugula with sliced apple, walnuts, shaved Parmesan, and lemon vinaigrette, has become my favorite side dish of the moment, because I almost always have those ingredients on hand. But that’s not to say that the fennel version isn’t worthwhile; I’ve already made that one twice. In other words, this is on its way to becoming one of my go-to winter salads.

1 large fennel bulb
2 medium apples (I used Fuji)
4 handfuls baby arugula
4 tablespoons shaved Parmesan
4 tablespoons toasted walnuts
Freshly ground pepper to taste
Salt to taste
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1. Cut the fennel bulb in half vertically (through the trimmed shoots to the base), then cut each half in half vertically again. Cut out and discard the hard core at the base of each fennel quarter. Place each piece of fennel on a cutting board, flat surface down, and slice it diagonally starting from the base, making sure to keep the slices as thin as possible (or use a mandolin if you have one).

2. Quarter and core the apple, then cut it into thin slices.

3. Place the sliced fennel and apple in a bowl, making sure to separate the ones that are stuck together, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and lemon zest.

4. Add the arugula, walnuts, and Parmesan to the bowl and toss together.

5. In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, Dijon, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

6. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss to coat evenly.

Serves: 4
Time: 15 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, although I haven’t quite figured out the best approach; the first time, I had a smallish fennel bulb and made kind of a mess of slicing it up, ending up with only enough for two servings (the original recipe says it serves 2 to 3, so that didn’t surprise me). Since I had extras of all the other ingredients, when it came time for leftovers I just made the salad without the fennel, which, as mentioned above, was just dandy. The second time around, I just cut up half the fennel bulb and one of the apples to make two servings of salad to eat right away, and then the next day I cut up the rest of the fennel bulb (which I’d wrapped in plastic wrap and stored in a baggie in the fridge) and the other apple, basically just making the other two servings of salad from scratch (except the dressing, which I’d stored in the fridge). That worked fine but was a bit more labor-intensive. I suspect you could simplify things by mixing up all the ingredients except the arugula and storing that in the refrigerator, then just dolloping some of that atop some greens whenever you felt like eating.

MAPLE-MUSTARD GLAZED CARROTS

I feel like I rambled a lot in my last entry, so I’ll keep this one short and sweet...much like these carrots!

Despite the title of this blog, it’s been quite a while since I’ve cooked from a book instead of the Internet, but a couple of weeks ago, perpetually unable to eyeball quantities accurately in the hustle and bustle of the farmers’ market, I ended up with a huge carrot surplus that needed to be used up. Looking for something interesting to do with them, I decided to consult Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day, one of the few cookbooks that’s earned its keep in my kitchen. Sure enough, I turned to “Carrots” and found that I already had this recipe flagged to try. The basic recipe is for maple-glazed carrots, but there were two variations listed at the end, and the one that involved adding mustard called out to me--since, as you know, mustard has become my new favorite secret ingredient.

The result was a magically easy and delicious side dish. The carrots braise in a small amount of water and syrup, softening and picking up a gentle glaze that’s flavorful but not sticky. I’m definitely glad I went with the mustard, because otherwise I would have found it too sweet. As it is, there’s still an addictive candy-like quality (which caused A to love it), but the savory, salty mustard balances it out. I hated cooked carrots for many years, and I still prefer them roasted or pan-browned, but this is the best steamed/boiled treatment for them I’ve found, and I definitely plan to make it again--especially since I’m sure I’ll never stop accidentally buying too many carrots.

1 tablespoon butter
2 medium shallots, minced
1 pound carrots, cut on the diagonal into ½-inch-thick ovals
½ cup water
2 tablespoons maple syrup (Grade B preferable)
1 pinch ground nutmeg
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon grainy Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley leaves

1. Heat a medium skillet over medium heat. Melt the butter in the skillet, then add the shallots and saute until golden, about 4 minutes.

2. Add the carrots, water, maple syrup, nutmeg, and salt to taste. Cover and cook for 10 minutes.

3. Remove the cover and stir in mustard. Simmer briskly until the carrots are tender but not mushy and the liquid in the pan has thickened and coats the carrots nicely, 3 to 4 minutes.

4. Remove the pan from the heat, stir in the parsley, and add a bit more salt if necessary.

Serves: 4
Time: 25 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

KALE SALAD WITH APPLES, ALMONDS, CHEDDAR, AND POMEGRANATE

Even though they’ve become trendy as a “superfood” (I just can’t bring myself to use that word without the scare quotes), pomegranates still seem exotic to me. My elementary-school best friend would occasionally bring a segment to school in her lunchbag (she was Jewish and I conflated these two things for years), but other than that, I never encountered them until I was an adult. Now that I live in California, I see them for sale at my farmers’ market sometimes but have been a bit intimidated by them. The fact that multiple methods exist for opening them, detailed in a host of online step-by-steps procedures, only makes them more daunting. (Internet tutorials can be extremely useful, but generally, if a cooking technique requires a video to teach it, I tend to avoid it. I’m not claiming this is a wise philosophy, since it kept me away from poaching eggs and making mayonnaise for many lost years.) I’ve bought the convenient boxes of seeds at Trader Joe’s a few times, but they’re ridiculously expensive, nearly four times the cost of a whole pomegranate. When I saw this delicious-looking recipe from A Tasty Love Story at The Kitchn, I decided it was time to buckle down and get friendly with pomegranates.

Following directions from, yes, The Kitchn, I found it quite easy to open my pomegranate underwater, with just a few stray squirts of juice marring my kitchen, and only when I got too enthusiastic about pulling the seeds out forcefully (one red splash stained my forehead and glasses, which I didn’t notice until hours later, and with some alarm until I figured out its source). The rest of the salad came together easily enough, although it takes a bit longer than some of the others I’ve made, between negotiating the pomegranate and having to candy the almonds. That process is quick and nifty enough in itself, just a few minutes on the stovetop, but I wasn’t completely satisfied with the results. Maybe I overcooked them, but my almonds tasted a little bitter, and they were incredibly sticky; unable to reach the parchment, I grabbed the waxed paper instead to line the baking sheet I poured them onto to cool, and when I tried to remove them later, they took the paper right along with them. I had to spend 15 minutes trying to peel the tiny scraps of paper off, and then chopping them was equally awkward. All that and I’m not sure whether they added a lot of flavor to the salad; the dressing already has balsamic and honey in it, and when all was said and done I could barely even notice they were candied. I would be tempted to use plain ones in the future, but A disagrees that the flavor was indetectible, so maybe I was just cranky about my waxed paper gaffe.

One crucial improvement I made was to add sharp cubed cheddar cheese to the mix; besides the kale, and the almonds beneath their candied coating, everything else here is so firmly in the tart-sweet spectrum that I felt something creamy and savory/salty was needed to balance it out. Maybe I had a huge pomegranate, but there were a lot of seeds in there, although I appreciated the liquid they provided in each bite because there were also a lot of almonds, which sometimes make my mouth feel dry; I might slightly reduce the quantities of each next time. There was so much going on in the salad that the grassy flavor of the kale was in danger of being overshadowed. I thought kale was nearly indestructible, but it even seemed to be getting a little soggy under the weight of all the other ingredients. Perhaps I should have followed the original recipe in using finely chopped curly kale instead of the sliced Tuscan I prefer for salads, but Tuscan was all I could find at the farmers’ market that week anyway. In particular, with its balsamic base, the dressing was much more assertive than the lemony ones I usually use for kale, not to mention that it stained all the ingredients an unfortunate brown.

It sounds like I’m complaining, doesn’t it? I did really enjoy this salad; the flavors go together well and it has a tremendously pleasing juicy crunch. A liked it even more than I did, and in fact, I think the very things that make me compare it unfavorably to some of my other kale salad recipes--the big, bold, sweet flavors and the backgrounding of the kale itself--are precisely what he liked about it. So I’ll definitely be making it again as a nice change of pace, and I am now firmly in the camp of pomegranate eaters.

¾ cup almonds
5 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, divided
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon honey, divided
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper to taste
1 bunch kale (I used Tuscan)
1 pomegranate
2 apples
½–¾ cup cubed sharp cheddar cheese


1. Heat a medium skillet over medium heat. Toast the almonds for 1 to 2 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar; as soon as the liquid has evaporated, add 1 tablespoon of honey and stir for 1 minute. Transfer almonds to a baking sheet lined with silicon or parchment and let them cool. Afterwards, chop them coarsely.

2. In a small bowl, stir together the remaining 3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, the remaining 1 teaspoon of honey, the Dijon, and salt and pepper to taste. Gradually whisk in the olive oil, continuing whisking until dressing is emulsified.


3. Wash and dry the kale. Remove the stems and slice the leaves into thin strips (if using Tuscan) or chop them finely (if using curly). Place the kale in a large bowl.

4. Remove the seeds from the pomegranate and add them to the bowl. Core and thinly slice the apples and add them as well, followed by the cheddar and almonds.

5. Add the dressing to the salad and toss well to coat.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

PUMPKIN BAKED OATMEAL

When I was first getting to know A, one anecdote he told made a particularly vivid impression on me: When he was a little boy and going through an especially picky phase, he got to have pumpkin pie for breakfast. His pediatrician told his mother to give him whatever he would actually eat, and that at least pumpkin is high in vitamin A, protein, fiber, and other nutrients. To this day, when we visit his mom for Thanksgiving, there is often an extra pumpkin pie just for him to eat in the mornings.

In contrast, I’m an orthodox breakfast eater from a family of orthodox breakfast eaters. I’ve never had any kind of pie for breakfast, and as I’ve mentioned before, I eschewed pumpkin completely for the first 34 years of my life. Pumpkin pie still isn’t my favorite, but pumpkin ice cream, cookies, pancakes, pudding, and even gnocchi have won me over, so when I saw this recipe for pumpkin baked oatmeal at Budget Bytes, I was intrigued. Ever since I discovered baked oatmeal three years ago, it’s been my go-to warm breakfast food, but I’ve always stuck with the same recipe, with the only variation being that I occasionally use dried cranberries instead of raisins. Clearly, it was time to branch out.

This recipe is pretty similar to my usual except for the pumpkin, the spices, and the addition of baking powder, which makes the oatmeal just a bit fluffier. It called for 1½ cups milk, but then mentioned that you could use up to 2 cups, subbing in plain yogurt for some of that. I liked the idea of adding a bit more protein from Greek yogurt, so I used ½ cup of that plus 1½ cups milk. I think this may have been a bit too much liquid for me, in addition to all the pumpkin; the end result had a creamier consistency than I’m used to, although it’s also possible I didn’t cook it long enough (I did cook it for longer than the recipe says, because after the given baking time it was still runny and jiggly in the middle, but I probably still erred on the side of underdone). This wasn’t a huge problem, especially since baked oatmeal becomes just a bit drier with each day it spends in the fridge, but I’m wondering if next time I should reduce the liquid slightly. I’m also wondering if covering the baking dish is really necessary; this isn’t called for with my other recipe, and I think it increased the needed baking time for me. As long as the top doesn’t get overly browned, I might skip it. To provide some textural variation, I sprinkled chopped pecans atop the oatmeal right before I ate it each morning, and it was such a tasty addition that I’ll just throw them right in before baking next time.

Small consistency issues aside, this oatmeal is incredibly delicious. It really does taste reminiscent of pumpkin pie, but better, in my opinion, because it’s not so sweet and smooshy; the nutty, chewy oats help balance it out. It’s a cheerful shade of orange, and I love knowing it’s packed with even more good-for-you punch than my usual version. If you’re a devoted cereal eater like me, it’s not often you can claim to have had nearly a full serving of vegetables by 9:00 a.m. Whether the idea of pumpkin pie for breakfast sounds like a great idea to you or a crazy one, this happy medium is a tasty, wholesome breakfast treat. It’s going into my regular rotation; in fact, I might make another batch today!

Update, September 2013: Still a favorite, but I've made a few changes. I now include ½ cup of pecans before baking, and I bake it uncovered the whole time with no ill effects—but if you find the top browns before the interior is solidified, by all means cover it. I also leave out the yogurt and just use 2 cups milk; as much as I like the idea of extra protein, I think it was adding a tart undertone I didn’t care for. In addition, instead of premixing my pumpkin pie spice, I'll often get lazy and just dump spices directly into the pumpkin mixure--a heaping 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon each cardamom and ginger, and 1/8 teaspoon each cloves and nutmeg. Can't really tell the difference!

15 ounces pumpkin puree (canned or fresh)
½ cup brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice*
½ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½–2 cups milk
½–1 cup plain yogurt (optional; use as replacement for part of the milk, with no more than 2 cups liquid total; e.g., 1 cup milk + 1 cup yogurt, or 1½ cups milk + ½ cup yogurt)
2½ cups rolled oats (old-fashioned, not quick)
½ cup chopped pecans (optional)
Nonstick cooking spray or canola oil

*I made my own pumpkin pie spice by combining ¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon, ½ teaspoon ground ginger, and ⅛ teaspoon each of ground cloves, cardamom, and nutmeg in a small bowl. It yields a bit more than 1 teaspoon, but you can use the excess for something else.

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla, pumpkin pie spice, salt, and baking powder until smooth. Whisk in the milk (and yogurt if using).

2. Mix the dry oats into the pumpkin mixture, and add the pecans, if using. Coat an 8-by-8-inch baking dish with nonstick spray or a small amount of oil. Pour in the pumpkin oat mixture, cover with foil, and bake for 45 minutes or until center is set, removing the foil after the first 30 minutes.

3. Divide into portions and serve topped with milk or yogurt, nuts, maple syrup, or whatever else you like (on a special occasion, I'm sure whipped cream would be fantastic).

Serves: 6–8 (original recipe says 8, but I like a hearty breakfast and split it into 6 instead)
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great; will last in a sealed container in the refrigerator for at least a week. I bake it, let it cool, divide it into portions, put them in separate covered bowls in the fridge, and heat one up in the microwave each morning, pouring milk over the top before eating; you could also just cover the original baking dish and scoop out a serving each morning. 

BEEF, MUSHROOM, AND FARRO SOUP

This was my second time cooking farro. My first attempt didn’t go so well. I don’t think the recipe itself was the problem (so I won’t link to it), or my execution of it; in retrospect, it was just a poor choice for introducing a new ingredient, since it had a format (grain salad) and a main component (squash) that aren’t necessarily slam dunks for us, especially for A. He flat out disliked it, and by extension decided he was anti-farro. I valiantly tried to convince myself I didn’t think it was so bad, but after slowly wading through the leftovers over the course of a week, I had to admit that it wasn’t really to my taste either. I did kind of enjoy the chewy texture and nutty flavor of the farro itself—which was good, because I had another whole cup of farro still sitting in my cupboard. (I always overbuy in the bulk section at Whole Foods; everything looks so much smaller there!)

For my second attempt, I decided I had to be much smarter in my approach: crowdpleasing ingredients, not too exotic, not too farro-centric. When this recipe from A Good Appetite popped up in my Google Reader, it seemed ideal. A loves beef, I love mushrooms, the farro plays a supporting role, and the whole thing is basically just familiar beef and barley soup with the barley traded for farro. Despite the fact that I have no particular love for beef soup or stews, it still looked pretty appetizing. I decided to go for it…and then, as I tend to do, I immediately started having doubts. There weren’t many ingredients; would it be too boring? Should I add something to perk it up? And what exactly is “stew beef,” anyway?

Google answered the last question for me (and then, of course, I walked right into Whole Foods and found a package of meat actually labeled “stew beef,” so problem solved). As for the others: I did make a few small adjustments to enhance the flavor, using cremini mushrooms instead of button, using fresh rosemary instead of dried, substituting chicken broth for half of the beef broth (as recommended here; I find beef stock too intense sometimes), and garnishing with minced parsley, which I adore with mushrooms. Also, tasting the soup midway through its cooking time, it seemed to lack a bit of acidity; I considered adding a splash of balsamic vinegar but then remembered that I had an open bottle of red wine in the fridge, so I used that instead and it was perfect. (If you don’t have, don’t drink, or don’t want to buy red wine, I still think the balsamic would work as an alternative—maybe start with a tablespoonful and see what you think.) The end result was certainly not boring. We both thought it was incredibly delicious. The flavor was rich and savory (the soy sauce, which I never would have thought of on my own, was a nice touch, amplifying the umami of the beef and mushrooms even further) and I loved how the farro added texture and substance, giving you something to chew on without being as exhaustingly grainy as the failed farro salad had been. This soup—something with both can agree on, and easy enough to make on a weeknight to boot—is definitely a keeper, and farro has officially been approved for further experimentation in our kitchen. I can’t wait to try it in other ways…I just have to make sure to choose my recipes carefully.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound stew beef, cut into ¾-inch cubes
8 ounces cremini mushrooms
2 medium yellow onions, halved and then thinly sliced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
2 cups beef broth
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
½ cup red wine (optional)
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary
1 cup farro
Salt and pepper to taste
Minced fresh Italian parsley to taste (I used about ⅓ cup)

1. In a large, heavy soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Salt and pepper the beef, then add the beef to the pot and sauté until cooked through. Add the mushrooms and onions. Sauté for a few minutes, until the onions are tender and the mushrooms have released their liquid. Add the garlic and sauté another minute.

2. Add the broth, water, wine (if using), soy sauce, and rosemary. Bring to a boil. Add the farro. Bring to a boil again. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover partially, and simmer for 20 minutes or until the farro is tender (it should still have a slight toothiness to it). If the soup seems too thick, add another cup of water.

3. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve sprinkled with parsley.

Serves: 6
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.