PASTA WITH BROCCOLINI AND ITALIAN SAUSAGE

And still another veggie makes its Bookcook debut! Clearly, I’ve been feeling experimental lately. (Is it sad when one of the biggest thrills in your life is trying a new vegetable? Not to me.) I had tried broccolini (which is not baby broccoli, but a hybrid of broccoli and Chinese broccoli that my spell-checker doesn’t yet recognize) a few times on and off over the years and liked it, but it’s started making more reliable appearances at our farmers’ market, so I figured I’d better give a shot for real.

Naturally, I turned to pasta. The sausage-and-broccoli/broccolini/broccoli rabe combo is a classic one, but I had to comb through a surprising number of variations on Google that weren’t quite what I wanted before I found something near enough. I used this recipe from the Weekend Gourmande (adapted from Cook’s Illustrated) as a jumping-off point, doubling it and adding lemon zest and juice for a springy zip (what even is the point of a green vegetable without lemon?). I garnished with basil because I had some that needed to be used up, but it isn’t necessary. While hardly groundbreaking, this is a straightforward and delicious meal that lets the broccolini shine but gives veg-skeptics (ahem, A) enough meaty-spicy-cheesy-savory elements to sink their teeth into.

If you don’t want to shell out for broccolini (or just can’t find it), regular broccoli would work here. I’d love to try it with broccoli rabe sometime, but I’ve never spotted it at our farmers’ market. Broccolini does seem to be an up-and-comer, so maybe its cousin will be next to join the club.

1 pound orecchiette (or a short, curly pasta like rotini)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound Italian sausage (hot or sweet), casings removed
4 large cloves garlic, minced
¼ to ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 to 1½ pounds broccolini (about 2 bunches), cut into 1-inch pieces, stems halved lengthwise if thick
1 to 1½ cups chicken broth
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra to taste

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the pasta and cook until al dente. Reserve ½ cup of the pasta water before draining.
2. Meanwhile, set a large skillet over medium heat. When it’s warm, add the olive oil and the Italian sausage. Cook until browned, breaking up the chunks with a spoon. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for 1 minute.
3. Add the broccolini, ½ teaspoon salt, and broth to the skillet. Cover for 2 minutes to steam, until broccolini is bright green. Remove lid and cook until broccolini is tender and most of the stock evaporates.
4. Add drained pasta, lemon juice, lemon zest, and ½ cup Parmesan to the skillet and stir well, adding pasta water as needed to loosen the sauce. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve with additional Parmesan on top.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

ROASTED POTATOES AND BRUSSELS SPROUTS WITH BACON

Another new vegetable addition to my palate’s palette. Brussels sprouts have, of course, been rehabbed from their bad rap and served at the cool-kid tables for years, but I was slow to pick up on the trend because they’re basically tiny cabbages, and up until last year I wasn’t a fan of the full-sized version either. But you can’t throw a stone anymore without hitting a gastropub, and you can’t throw a stone in a gastropub without hitting a bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon, usually the only green vegetable on the menu, so eventually I tried them and enjoyed them. I did roast them at home a few times, but apparently none of the recipes I tried were especially notable, because they never made it to the blog. This year I vowed I’d get better acquainted with Brussels sprouts.

I chose this recipe from The Kitchn because I knew the bacon would mollify A (as well as being a natural pairing for sprouts), mustard improves almost everything, and the addition of potatoes makes this an easy way to cover two-thirds of the protein + starch + veg meal formula (a template I don’t usually feel compelled to follow, but I needed something to serve with lemon garlic chicken and this seemed like a properly substantial side). It was effortless and excellent. I used a slightly higher sprouts-to-potato ratio because I like green things, but otherwise followed the recipe exactly. I do think I should have put the sprouts in earlier, because my bacon was a little too toasty by the end (and I say this as someone who likes it extra-crispy) and my sprouts not quite dark enough for my taste, but that’s easily remedied next time.

So: Brussels sprouts: yes. Not sure if I’m ready to level-up and try them in raw salad form, but roasted, I’m on board with.

1 tablespoon olive oil, divided
1 tablespoon whole-grain mustard
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1¼ pounds small Yukon Gold potatoes, quartered
¼ pound (about 3 slices) thick-cut bacon, diced
¾ pound Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together the ½ tablespoon olive oil, mustard, salt, and pepper to taste. Toss the potatoes and bacon in the bowl until evenly coated.
2. Spread the potato mixture evenly on a large, heavy baking sheet. Roast for 25 to 40 minutes, or until potatoes are tender but not too browned, stirring every 10 minutes.
3. Turn the oven up to 475 degrees. Toss the Brussels sprouts with the remaining ½ tablespoon of oil. Push the potatoes to one side of the pan, and arrange the Brussels sprouts on the other half of the pan, cut sides down.
4. Continue roasting for about 15 more minutes, or until the sprouts are tender and browned, and the bacon is crisp. Salt to taste.

Serves: 4
Time: 70 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

SWEDISH MEATBALLS WITH PICKLED CUCUMBER AND RADISH

I’m well versed in lefse, rosettes, spritz and krumkake, but somehow managed to live 27 years in Minnesota minus any memorable encounters with Swedish meatballs, which I attribute to (a) youthful pickiness, (b) a generally noncarnivorous nature, and (c) the fact that they didn’t open an IKEA in the Twin Cities until after I moved away. In exile from my Midwestern homeland, my interest in things Scandinavian has grown exponentially, and one of my favorite ways to eat meat now is in ball form (well-seasoned, bite-sized tidbits beat big boring slabs any day), so it seemed appropriate to finally get into Swedish meatballs.

I bookmarked a number of recipes over the years, but never felt inspired to take the plunge (who really needs more meat and cream in their lives?) until I saw a photo of this Jet and Indigo recipe somewhere online and fell in love with the idea of taking things to the Nordic next level with a gorgeously colorful topping of pickled vegetables.

I went with America’s Test Kitchen (via Elly Says Opa) for the meatballs themselves, and they’re the best I’ve ever made. I don’t quite know what does it (the mixture of beef and pork? the grated onion, which at least on my crappy grater turns into a watery, gelatinous mess that seems like it’s going to make everything sodden but is in fact the perfect way to spread oniony goodness through every cell of the meatball?), but dang, they’re tender and delicious. I found the inclusion of sugar a bit odd, especially in the sauce, and the first time I made this, everything just seemed off-puttingly sweet, especially when combined with the pickled veggies (which tend toward the sweet side as well). I investigated a number of other Swedish meatball recipes and found a few that had sugar in the meat but none that also used it in the sauce, so on the second go-round I omitted it and everything was perfect. It’s possible the sugar works better with heavy cream in the sauce—the first time I used creme fraiche because I happened to have some on hand, and the second time I opted for sour cream, which seemed more traditional. I also threw in a big handful of parsley, just to freshen things up, along with a ton of dill in the pickles. I hate that the recipe calls for just “1 slice sandwich bread,” which seems a lot vaguer than measuring the bread in ounces (I tend to keep odds and ends of various breads in the freezer for making crumbs, but rarely “sandwich bread” per se), but hilariously, on my second try it ended up forcing me to double down on Scandinavianness when it turned out that all I had on hand was marble rye. I can’t say I could taste the caraway in the finished meatballs, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

I know it might seem weird (it certainly did to me; kudos to A for encouraging me to forge ahead) to take a perfectly normal serving of meatballs in a nice gravy and then dump some cold, sweet-and-sour radishes and cucumbers all over it, but I’m telling you, that’s what takes this dish from solid to WOWZA. The brine cuts the richness of the meat and cream, and the cool crunch and beautiful pink and green hues are the perfect foil for the velvety beigeness below. If you simply can’t bring yourself to mix them, you can serve the pickles as a sort of side salad and alternate bites between the two dishes, but trust me on this one: PICKLES ON TOP 4 LYFE.

High-fives were exchanged over the dinner table during this meal (in a very brief pause from shoveling the food into our mouths; I’m a too-fast eater to begin with and yet still embarrassed by how extra quickly I devoured these meatballs every time). I’m ridiculously pleased with it, not only because I managed to merge two recipes and totally nail it (on the second attempt anyway), but also because, like many of the recipes I’ve been trying lately, it represents something that would have repulsed (or at least failed to interest) my younger self. It’s been fun to have the chance to discover foods gradually in my own time instead of just being a jaded sushi eater by age 8, but still, my younger self was totally missing out! I’ll just have to eat many more Swedish meatballs this year to make up for it.

Pickles:
¼ cup rice vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
7 ounces radishes, thinly sliced
2-3 small Persian cucumbers, thinly sliced
About 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill

Meatballs:
1 large egg
¼ cup heavy cream (or half-and-half or milk)
1 slice sandwich bread, crusts removed, torn into ½-inch pieces
1 small onion, grated on the large holes of a box grater
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ pound ground pork
½ pound ground beef
1 tablespoon olive oil

Sauce:
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
½ cup chicken broth
¾ cup beef broth
¾ cup sour cream or heavy cream
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 large handful fresh parsley, minced

For serving:
8 ounces egg noodles, cooked and drained

1. To make the pickles, combine the rice vinegar, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl, and mix well until the sugar and salt are dissolved. Add the cucumber and radish to the bowl, then refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, mixing occasionally. When ready to serve, stir in the dill.
2. To make the meatballs, whisk the egg and the cream (or half-and-half or milk) together in a large bowl. Add the bread and stir to combine. Let sit for 5 minutes or so.
3. Add the remaining meatball ingredients, except for the oil, and mix together lightly with your hands or two forks, just until combined. Form into about 25 to 30 1-inch meatballs.
4. Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add half the meatballs in a single layer. Cook for a few minutes per side, until browned all over but still slightly underdone. Transfer to a paper-towel lined plate. Repeat with the rest of the meatballs.
5. To make the sauce, return the empty skillet to medium heat and melt the butter. Add the flour and whisk constantly until it’s light brown. Whisk in the chicken and beef broth, and bring to a simmer. Continue to simmer until the sauce is reduced to about 1 cup, which will take approximately 5 minutes. Stir in the cream and return to a simmer. Add the meatballs and simmer for about 5 minutes to warm them through and finish cooking. Add the lemon juice and parsley, and season the sauce to taste with salt and pepper. Serve over egg noodles and top with pickles.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; store pickles separately.

CHOCOLATE BANANA BAKED OATMEAL

Way back in 2013, when I discovered my beloved funky monkey baked oatmeal, I commented on the wrong-feelingness of eating chocolate in the morning (and, indeed, 75% of the time I’ve made that recipe since, I’ve omitted the chocolate and coconut so it’s just banana-peanut butter), and speculated about using cocoa powder so that the base of the oatmeal itself was chocolaty, instead of being studded with chocolate chips. I never bothered to follow up on this idea, or I would have seen that my trusted baked oatmeal recipe source, Budget Bytes, already had a chocolate banana version in its archives. I only spotted it recently, while posting about banana coconut baked oatmeal, and I immediately knew it was the next logical step in my breakfast journey.

It’s hardly shocking to reveal that this oatmeal is objectively delicious, but I was still surprised that I enjoyed it so much. I’ve never been one to crave chocolate cake for breakfast, even in my carefree youth, so it took a few bites to overcome the twin disconnects of (a) eating something that looked and smelled like a brownie at 8 a.m., and (b) eating something that looked and smelled like a brownie but was barely sweet. Once I recalibrated my senses, however, I loved how the deep flavor of the cocoa shone through (use a good-quality cocoa powder, because it’s going to be the main flavor here), and how I felt fully as satisfied and energized until lunchtime as I do from any other oatmeal. If you do actually hunger for dessert first thing in the morning, this may be a good way to trick yourself into thinking you’re indulging. For me, it’s another fun riff to add to my baked oatmeal rotation.

The original recipe suggested a number of possible add-ins, including coconut and peanut butter, but to make sure I got plenty of protein to carry me through the morning, I went with sliced almonds. I toasted them for added flavor, but they still got largely overshadowed by the blast of cocoa. I appreciated their crunch, however, so they’ll be making a return appearance.

3 large or 4 medium ripe bananas
2 large eggs
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
⅓ cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
2 cups milk
2½ cups old-fashioned oats
½ cup sliced almonds, toasted

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a large bowl, mash enough bananas to make 1½ cups.
3. To the bowl of mashed bananas, add the eggs, cocoa powder (I like to sift this in to eliminate lumps), brown sugar, vanilla extract, salt, baking soda, and baking powder. Whisk together until smooth. Add the milk and whisk again. Make sure there are no clumps of cocoa powder. Stir the oats and almonds into the bowl.
4. Coat the inside of an 8-by-8-inch casserole dish with nonstick spray. Pour the oat mixture into the pan.
5. Place the oats in the oven and bake for about 50 minutes, or until firm. Cut into six pieces and serve warm, with milk.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great. Oatmeal will keep for a week in a covered container; reheat individual pieces in the microwave each morning.

ASPARAGUS CARBONARA

Despite being a lifelong fan of Calvin Trillin, who has famously claimed that spaghetti carbonara should replace turkey as the national Thanksgiving dish, I had never made (or, I think, even eaten) carbonara before—initially because I was grossed out by undercooked egg yolks, and more recently because I was afraid I would love it insatiably and perilously. But when The Brewer and the Baker posted this recipe last spring, I no longer had good reason to resist. Here we have a two-to-one ratio of springy green vegetables to pasta, perhaps not enough to counteract the richness of the bacon, egg and cheese, but enough to feel like a reasonable one-dish weeknight meal—and, honestly, much more interesting and appealing to me than plain old carbonara.

This is one of those recipes that comes together so quickly, it behooves you to have everything prepped and ready to go before you start. I always thought making carbonara was tricky, but the technique doesn’t get any more advanced than tempering eggs, which basically means stirring a little hot liquid into them so they warm up slowly and don’t immediately cook and congeal. Beyond that, the only hard part is the timing—making sure your noodles and your sauce come together at exactly the right moment. The good news is that if you muck it up a little bit, as I did the first time—foolishly believing that I could simplify things by simply mixing the pasta with the sauce in the hot skillet—and your eggs scramble a little instead of turning into a smooth sauce, it will still taste pretty great. When I returned to this recipe a year later and actually followed the directions precisely, it was even better. Working quickly and confidently is the key…and practice makes perfect, so clearly I’m going to have to try the entire range of spinoff recipes: Roasted cauliflower, my new BFF! Roasted broccoli! Spinach and sweet potato! What vegetable wouldn’t taste amazing in a peppery, smoky-salty, cheesy, magically creamy-without-a-drop-of-cream sauce? (Beets, probably.)

8 ounces spaghetti or other long pasta
1 teaspoon olive oil
4 slices bacon, cut into cubes
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 to 1¼ pounds asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 egg
1 egg yolk
2/3 cup grated Parmesan, plus more for garnish
Salt to taste

1. Heat a large pot of salted water to a boil for cooking the pasta. (If your asparagus is very thick or you like it very tender, once the water boils you can blanch your asparagus in it for a few minutes to give it a head start on cooking, removing it with a slotted spoon to a colander before adding the pasta to the same pot.)
2. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Cook bacon pieces to a crisp and remove bacon with a slotted spoon to a large bowl.
3. When the water boils, add the pasta and cook until al dente. Reserve ¾ cup of pasta water before draining.
4. Add black pepper to bacon drippings in skillet and cook for two minutes. Add asparagus and cook about 5 minutes, until fork-tender, stirring occasionally.
5. Whisk egg, yolk, 2/3 cup Parmesan, and ¼ cup very hot pasta water in the bowl with the bacon.
6. Add drained pasta and the contents of the asparagus skillet to the bowl and toss, adding splashes of reserved pasta water to create a creamy sauce. Season with salt to taste and serve topped with extra Parmesan.

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

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER AND MUSHROOM PIZZA

I believe it’s safe to call my journey toward becoming a cauliflower eater complete, having toured four of my favorite food groups—soup, fritters, pasta, and now pizza—with successful results. I don’t want to play favorites, but this powerhouse recipe from Bev Cooks (found via the Kitchn) is my current obsession. Cauliflower in its best form (crisp and toasty) gets an assist from umami-bursting browned mushrooms, slivers of red onion, savory herbs, plenty of cheese, and, just to flirt with gilding the lily, a crust bathed in roasted garlic oil. Anyone still think vegetables are boring?

I made two slight improvements on the original, to help balance out all the earthiness: adding red pepper flakes for a welcome pop of brightness and heat, and complementing the creamy mozzarella with a sharper cheese—Parmesan on my first try and, even better, Pecorino Romano the second time around. I’m also going to note that you really should use fresh mozzarella here; I usually find it too watery for pizza and opt for the aged, low-moisture kind, but since the other ingredients in this case are fairly dry, the extra juiciness is welcome.

I’m especially grateful for this recipe because it wouldn’t otherwise have occurred to me to combine cauliflower with mushrooms, but maybe that just goes to show what a cauliflower newbie I am. Clearly, further experimentation is still needed!

1 pound pizza dough
1 medium cauliflower head, broken into florets
½ pound cremini mushrooms, sliced
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2-3 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
10ish fresh sage leaves
6 large garlic cloves, in their skins
1/3 cup thinly sliced red onion
Salt, freshly ground black pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste
½ cup shredded Pecorino Romano or Parmesan cheese
5-8 ounces fresh mozzarella, shredded

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees and line two baking sheets with parchment.
2. Place the mushrooms on one baking sheet, and the cauliflower florets on another. Nestle the garlic cloves in with the veggies. Sprinkle with a good pinch of salt and pepper, drizzle with 2 tablespoons oil, sprinkle with fresh thyme and sage leaves, and toss well (make sure the garlic cloves in particular are well coated with oil).
3. Roast the mushrooms for 30 minutes and the cauliflower for 45, or until you get some good roasted color all over. Remove pans from oven and set aside. Increase oven heat to 450.
4. Using tongs, fish out the garlic and press the cloves out of their skins into a small bowl. Add a pinch of salt and the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil, and mash into a paste.
5. Roll out the pizza dough on a floured work surface and transfer to an oiled or cornmeal-dusted baking sheet. Evenly brush the garlic oil over the crust and par-bake for 2 minutes.
6. Sprinkle Romano or Parmesan over the crust, and evenly top with the roasted mushrooms, cauliflower (don’t forget all the herbs on the baking sheets! I crumble the crispy sage leaves with my fingers and scatter it over the pizza) and red onion. Finish with the mozzarella and bake another 12 minutes, or until the cheese is browned and bubbly, and the dough is cooked through.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

CREAMY POTATO, KALE, AND SAUSAGE SOUP

This soup might look familiar. It’s apparently based on Olive Garden’s “Zuppa Toscana,”* and it’s quite the Internet sensation. I can anecdotally report that it seems to be approaching the cult status of the Mrs. Fields/Neiman Marcus cookie, and perhaps someday its origins will be as shrouded in mystery. I first had it years ago, when my visiting friend L improvised a soup based on one her aunt had cooked for her. It was tasty, so when I saw this version at Budget Bytes recently, I decided to give it a shot. Funnily enough, that exact week, my mom was describing a soup recipe she’d gotten from my aunt that she was planning to try that week…and lo and behold, it was just another variation on the very same ur-soup.

All this popularity isn’t unmerited. Sausage, potatoes, and kale are best friends (see this similar combo from my own soup archives), and adding cream only sweetens the deal. Apparently, the original soup contains bacon, although many of its imitators do not; the slightly lightened recipe I tried adds smoked paprika as a stand-in, dials down the cream to half-and-half, reduces the sausage and swaps in some white beans for added protein and creaminess. It’s delicious and I wouldn’t change a thing. The only slight tweak I made was adding the half-and-half near the end of the cooking process so it didn’t curdle, as some commenters suggested and most other versions do. I went ahead and used hot Italian pork sausage for max flavor, but you can substitute a chicken variety if you prefer.

*Insert obligatory foodie snideness about the Olive Garden here, along with the requisite disclaimer that I’ve only eaten there twice in my life, during my hungry/cash-strapped/silly college days. And you know what? It was fine.

½ pound Italian sausage (hot or mild)
1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (15-ounce) can Great Northern beans, rinsed and drained
½ teaspoon smoked paprika
3 cups chicken broth
1 cup water
2 cups half-and-half
3 medium red potatoes (1½ pounds), quartered lengthwise and then cut into thin slices (about ¼ inch thick)
1 bunch (½ pound) kale, stemmed and chopped
1 pinch red pepper flakes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Squeeze the sausage out of its casing into a large pot. Sauté over medium heat, breaking it up into small pieces as it cooks. (If you’re using chicken sausage, you may need to add a little olive oil to keep it from sticking.)
2. Once the sausage is mostly browned, add the onion and garlic to the pot and sauté until the onions are softened.
3. Add the beans, smoked paprika, chicken broth, water, and salt to taste (my chicken broth had no salt, so I added 1 teaspoon kosher salt; use less if you’re using a commercial broth that contains sodium). Place a lid on the pot and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
4. Add the potatoes and kale, stirring until the kale wilts. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for at least 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender.
5. Reduce heat to low and add the half-and-half, heating until warmed but not boiling. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste.

Serves: 6-8
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

PASTA WITH ROASTED CAULIFLOWER AND SAUSAGE

The Cauliflower Chronicles continue. Of course the surest way for me to enjoy a new vegetable is on pasta, but it took me a surprisingly long time to find the right recipe. Although there are umpteen million variations on the classic cauliflower + pasta + breadcrumbs combo out there, none of my usual sources served up exactly what I was looking for. I definitely wanted the cauliflower to be roasted, because that’s how I’ve enjoyed it best so far. I wanted big, bold flavors, but no olives or anchovies or capers or raisins (all recipe dealbreakers for me, and all frequently found with cauliflower and pasta). And I thought a little meat would make it an easier sell to A. I usually stick to trusted blogs and websites for recipes, but I finally had to resort to straight-up Googling to hunt down this one from the Candid Appetite that seemed to have it all: roasted cauliflower, Italian sausage, breadcrumbs, and plenty of onion, garlic, lemon, and red pepper. (Strangely, the only thing it lacked was cheese, which is kind of a necessity when it comes to pasta in my opinion, so I added a sprinkling of Parmesan.)

I was pleased to discover that I’d chosen well; this recipe is pretty genius. Roasting the cauliflower with lemon juice, red pepper flakes and plenty of salt gives it tons of flavor (although all the liquid does interfere with the browning a bit because the cauliflower basically steams before it starts to roast, and I found I had to keep it in the oven much longer than the recipe dictated in order to get the level of caramelization I was looking for). The acid and spice balance perfectly with the nutty/cabbagey cauliflower, savory sausage, sweet onion, toasty breadcrumbs, and bright parsley for a rich and roasty but still fresh and not-too-heavy meal.

Other than correcting the cheese deficit, my only other change was to use fresh breadcrumbs instead of the odd mix of panko and “plain breadcrumbs” (aka storebought dry breadcrumbs, I guess? Why bother using two kinds?) called for in the original recipe. I’m a panko fan, but I know from past experience that I love the flavor and texture of toasted fresh breadcrumbs in pasta dishes, especially when they get all soft and super-flavor-soaked in the leftovers. I also skipped cooking the parsley with the breadcrumbs, to keep the green taste and color of the fresh herb intact. As for the Italian sausage, I usually default to chicken, but since I was a little concerned this dish would turn out too bland and/or dry (not really having a sauce per se), I went half-and-half with pork and thought it was perfect. It wouldn’t be terrible if you wanted to do all chicken sausage, but that extra little bit of grease and meatiness really amps things up.

The conclusion of this latest chapter in my cruciferous vegetable conquests? It’s safe to say now that I definitely like cauliflower. And what’s more, I’ve found my new favorite pasta.

1 medium to medium-large head cauliflower
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium lemon, juiced
1½ teaspoons salt, divided
1 teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 to 1½ cups fresh breadcrumbs
1 pound spicy Italian sausage, casings removed
1 medium red onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
½ cup fresh parsley, chopped
1 pound cavatappi or other curly pasta
Grated Parmesan cheese to taste

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Cut the cauliflower into small florets and place on a baking sheet. In a small bowl, whisk together 2 tablespoons olive oil, lemon juice, 1 teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon black pepper, and red pepper flakes. Pour over the cauliflower and toss until evenly combined. Shake pan to distribute the cauliflower into a single layer. Roast for about 25 to 40 minutes, stirring the cauliflower and rotating the baking sheet halfway through, until browned and crispy. Remove from oven and set aside.
3. While the cauliflower is roasting, place a small skillet over medium heat. Add one tablespoon olive oil, and when it’s warm, add the breadcrumbs. Toast, stirring often, until breadcrumbs are crisp and golden brown. Remove from heat and set aside.
4. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook according to package directions. Right before draining, reserve 1 cup of the pasta water.
5. While the water is heating, place a large skillet over medium heat and add remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add the sausage and break down with a wooden spoon. Cook until browned, then add the onion and garlic. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to brown.
6. When the pasta is drained, immediately throw it into the skillet with the sausage and onion. Add the reserved pasta water, roasted cauliflower, parsley and most of the breadcrumbs (reserve a few tablespoons for garnish). Stir until evenly combined and cook for a minute or two.
7. Serve with a sprinkling of the reserved toasted breadcrumbs, and grated Parmesan to taste.

Serves: 6 to 8
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

BANANA COCONUT BAKED OATMEAL

I’ve tried many, many kinds of baked oatmeal, but only a few have been worth repeating. Texture is my main criteria: I’ve found that I don’t really enjoy anything that involves chunks of non-pureed fruit, which rules out a lot of options, and in my opinion the recipes from Budget Bytes are the best (a bit fluffier and more custardy). My favorites by far are pumpkin and peanut butter banana (funky monkey without the coconut and chocolate), each of which I make at least monthly, with occasional forays into plain, banana walnut, or funky monkey for variety. It hasn’t happened yet, but it would be a sad day if I were ever to get sick of my old standbys, so I was thrilled when this new variation popped up a few weeks ago and was interested to see that it used coconut milk for added flavor. Of course I had to try it out.

I swapped in cardamom for the nutmeg (because I think cardamom should be in just about everything) and doubled the vanilla, figuring I might capture the quality of the coconut cardamom rice and tapioca puddings I love. It tasted delicious, although the texture was different than my regular baked oatmeals, denser and more solid. This one has a few more oats and less liquid—13.5 ounces is only about 1.7 cups, whereas all my other recipes use 2 cups milk—and I might try supplementing with an extra splash of dairy milk next time, but I came to appreciate the chewiness, and just added a bit more milk when serving. All of the others in my repertoire also contain nuts, and I was slightly worried the reduced protein in this one wouldn’t fill me up sufficiently (there was also only one egg instead of two, which I’m guessing might be an attempt to offset the coconut milk’s richness), but it wasn’t a problem. I’m pretty sure this is going to be making regular appearances in my breakfast rotation.

1½ cups mashed ripe bananas (3 to 4 large)
1 large egg
¼ cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ teaspoon cardamom
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
⅓ cup unsweetened shredded coconut
13.5 ounces canned coconut milk
3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Oil the inside of a 2-to-3-quart casserole dish. (I like to use coconut oil spray.)
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the mashed bananas, egg, brown sugar, vanilla, nutmeg, baking powder, salt, and shredded coconut until evenly combined. Add the coconut milk and whisk again until smooth. Add the rolled oats and stir until combined.
3. Pour the oat mixture into the prepared casserole dish and bake, uncovered, for 45 minutes.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great. Will keep in the refrigerator for up to a week; reheat individual portions in the microwave.

PICKLED CARROT STICKS

Back in my pickier eating days, raw carrot sticks were my go-to vegetable—in fact, I think I may have taken cheese, crackers, and carrot sticks to school for lunch almost every day of my K-12 education. I still grab them on occasion when I need vitamins and crunch on the go (plane trips, for instance), but let’s face it, they’re on the bland side. I wish it hadn’t taken me about a decade to realize that the way to make myself fall in love with raw carrots again was to pickle them.

I had this recipe from Sassy Radish bookmarked for more than a year before I finally took the briny plunge. As my friend S and I were planning our annual Halloween scary-but-not-too-scary filmfest and fall feast, I realized we’d need something crisp and fresh to balance out all the delicious cheese and snacks and sweets, and what could be more appropriately festive for than bright orange carrots? These pickles were a cinch to throw together and a huge hit with me, S, A and everyone else I’ve shared them with since. The flavor is a knockout, with an absolutely perfect salty-sour-sweet-spicy ratio, and I love the texture too—not mushy from cooking, just gently bathed in the hot brine enough to barely soften them and still retain their bite. They make a snappy, refreshing accompaniment for rich winter meals like goulash, and an addictive snack all year round.

I inadvertently made this recipe even better when I realized I’d run out of dill seed, couldn’t find it at any of the grocery stores I visited (note to self: Whole Foods has it), and decided to swap in cumin seed instead, on the theory that cumin and carrots often make appearances together. The pickles turned out so fantastic that now I’m afraid to mess with a good thing, and I keep right on using cumin seed even though I’ve replenished my dill supply. Other than that, the only changes I made were to use red pepper flakes instead of a whole chile, and to pack my pickles in a flat rectangular glass container because I didn’t have any appropriately sized jars, which necessitated increasing the liquid quantities just slightly so the brine covered all the carrots. I don’t normally peel my carrots and didn’t bother the first time I made this, but I went for it the second time around and do think it helps the brine penetrate, as well as resulting in prettier pickles.

1 pound carrots, peeled and cut into thin sticks
1¼ cup cider vinegar
1¼ cup water
3 tablespoons sugar
1½ tablespoons kosher salt
2 garlic cloves, slightly crushed
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
A heaping ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon fennel seeds
½ teaspoon black peppercorns
¼ teaspoon celery seed
¼ teaspoon yellow mustard seed

1. Place carrots in a large jar (or I use a shallow rectangular glass container with a lid).
2. Combine the remaining ingredients in a small saucepan and bring them to a boil. Remove from heat and let stand for 3 minutes.
3. Pour pickling liquid over carrots, and let cool, uncovered.
4. Seal and refrigerate for at least 24 hours before using.

Yields: 1 pound
Time: 20 minutes (plus at least 24 hours of pickling)
Leftover potential: Pretty much the whole point. Will keep in the fridge for up to a month, getting more flavorful every day.

CAULIFLOWER AND FETA FRITTERS WITH POMEGRANATE

I’m not sure I’m 100% on board with cauliflower yet, although I definitely like it roasted. I’ll admit I do enjoy finally being part of the club, since it’s been one of the cool-kid vegetables in recent years and avoiding it meant ignoring quite a few recipes, especially in winter. Now that I have my cauliflower radar turned on, it’s fun to see how many good-looking recipes I missed out on in the past. Case in point: this Smitten Kitchen one from way back in 2012. Fritters are totally up my alley and so is feta, but since I’m also a latecomer to pomegranate I can certainly see why I clicked right on past when this was first posted. (Although perhaps I didn’t—a search of fritter recipes on my own blog reveals that I contemplated making them nearly three years ago.) I’m a little sad that I went so long without this deliciousness in my life, but I guess there’s something to be said for finding the right thing at the exact moment you’re ready for it, or some such self-help mumbo-jumbo.

These fritters are definitely cauliflower-centric, although well-seasoned enough with lemon, garlic and red pepper to avoid the blandness I feel is one of cauliflower’s major potential pitfalls. But it’s a good gateway drug for newbies, too, since the vegetable is processed nearly beyond recognition (I cut mine perhaps a tad smaller, boiled it a tad longer and mashed it a tad smoother than the original recipe called for, and was not sorry), bound together with plenty of salty melty cheese and browned to an irresistible crisp. I implore you not to skip out on the pomegranate, which is far from just the pretty garnish I initially assumed. The pops of tart juiciness are the perfect complement to the richness of the fritters.

1 small head cauliflower (1 pound florets; i.e., stems and leaves removed), cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large egg
1 garlic clove, minced
A few gratings of fresh lemon zest
3 ounces crumbled feta (about 1/2 cup)
½ cup all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon Aleppo pepper flakes; less if using regular red pepper flakes, which are hotter
¾ teaspoon table salt, plus extra to taste
½ teaspoon baking powder
Olive oil for frying
¾ cup yogurt
½ teaspoon ground cumin
1 large handful pomegranate arils

1. Cook cauliflower in simmering salted water, uncovered, for about 5 to 6 minutes, until tender but still somewhat firm. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Spread on towels to dry as much as possible.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together egg, garlic and lemon zest. Add cauliflower florets and mash with a potato masher until they’re crushed into an average of pea-sized pieces (i.e. some will be bigger, some smaller, but most will be little nubs). Sprinkle in feta and stir to combine egg mixture, cauliflower and feta. In a small dish, whisk flour, salt, pepper and baking powder until evenly combined. Sprinkle over cauliflower batter and stir just until combined.
3. Heat a large, heavy skillet (preferably cast iron) over medium heat. Add a good slick of oil, about 2 to 3 tablespoons. When the oil is hot, scoop a two-tablespoon-size mound of the batter and drop it into the pan, then flatten it slightly with your spoon or spatula. Repeat with additional batter, leaving a couple inches between each fritter. Once brown underneath, about 2 to 3 minutes, flip each fritter and cook on the other side until equally golden, about another 1 to 2 minutes. Transfer briefly to paper towels to drain, then to a wire rack (or keep warm in a 200-degree oven if desired).
4. Once all fritters are cooked, mix yogurt with cumin, salt and pepper. Spread fritters on serving platter. Dollop each with cumin yogurt and sprinkle with pomegranate arils.

Serves: 2-4 (original recipe says it yields 18 two-inch fritters; I usually get about 10 slightly larger ones, which feeds both of us as a main dish with a side salad)
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good. Leftover fritters can be frozen or refrigerated; reheat on a baking sheet in a 400-degree oven, or in a dry skillet over medium heat, until warm and crisp.

LENTIL SOUP WITH SAUSAGE, CHARD, AND GARLIC

Now that it’s legitimately cold in Southern California and the El Niño rains are starting and a steaming bowl of soup sounds like the best thing ever, my list of soup recipes to make is a mile long—but this one jumped to the front of the line after I read Adam Roberts’ tender, eloquent tribute to chef Gina DePalma, its creator, who died of ovarian cancer on New Year’s. His testimonial, as well as the hundreds of glowing comments on Smitten Kitchen’s posting of the recipe, all spoke of simple, humble ingredients elevated into something beautiful and delicious. I had to try it.

Still, when the moment came, I was skeptical. I’ve come around on lentils, but they still don’t exactly scream “Cook me!” whenever I see them. And no broth, just canned tomatoes and water? What would keep it from being…well, bland? I’ve made a lot of underwhelming soups in my time. I might even venture to say that in my experience, soup recipes have a higher rate of disappointment than any other category. Sure, they rarely fail spectacularly—a so-so soup is still edible, just boring—but getting something deeply flavorful, that’s more than the sum of its parts, can be surprisingly tricky. Usually, adding some combination of salt, spice and acid can help to perk it up, but the truly good recipes seem to achieve this effortlessly.

And this is one of them! I usually default to chicken sausage, but fearing the specter of blandness, I used pork sausage. I also threw in a Parmesan rind, because I had a ton in the freezer and they work magic in soups, imparting another level of creamy savoriness. Furthermore, I think I nailed the salt level right off the bat, something I often struggle with in soups—they can cross over from tasteless to tongue-shriveling in an instant. But even if I hadn’t done any of these things, I suspect it still would have been a great pot of soup—nourishing and hearty and pretty much the culinary equivalent of a big warm hug. In a rough week like this, wrestling with loss and mourning and reminders of mortality, it was just what I needed.

Also, pro tip: After I swirled a spoonful of the sizzling garlic oil into each bowl, I still had a bit left in the pan. Fearful of making my soup too oily (although I don’t think I need have worried), and knowing A would want something to dip, I made some quickie garlic bread: Run some sliced baguette on a baking sheet under the broiler until barely browned on top, flip the pieces over, and brush them with the garlic oil. (Sprinkling on a bit of extra cheese doesn’t hurt, either.) Another minute or two under the broiler until the tops are golden, and ding! The perfect accompaniment to an excellent soup.

½ cup olive oil, divided
½ pound sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
1 medium onion, diced
2 celery stalks, sliced or diced
2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into half-moons or diced
4 cloves garlic, sliced, divided
Kosher salt to taste
A pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
1 cup brown lentils, sorted and rinsed
2 bay leaves
1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
6 cups water
Freshly ground black pepper
Parmesan rind (optional)
4 cups thinly shredded Swiss chard leaves
Grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan cheese to finish

1. Heat ¼ cup olive oil in a large, heavy pot over medium heat. When hot, add the sausage, breaking it up with a wooden spoon until it starts to brown, about 5 minutes.
2. Add the onion, celery, carrots, half the garlic, a pinch of salt, and a pinch of red pepper flakes. Cook with the sausage until the vegetables soften a bit, another 5 minutes.
3. Add the lentils, bay leaves, tomatoes, water, Parmesan rind (if using), more salt and black pepper to taste. Bring to a simmer and allow to cook until the lentils are tender, about 40 minutes.
4. When the lentils are cooked, add the chard and cook about 5 minutes more, until the leaves are tender. Discard the bay leaves and Parmesan rind.
5. To finish, divide soup among bowls, then add the remaining ¼ cup olive oil and 2 garlic cloves to a small skillet over medium heat until the garlic softens and hisses. Drizzle the garlic oil over soup bowls, and top with freshly grated cheese.

Serves: 6-7
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Great.

CHICKEN ENCHILADAS

Enough salads. Time for comfort food!

While paging through this month’s Cooking Light, I came across a recipe for chicken black-bean enchiladas and instantly craved them—which is odd, because I spent many years avoiding traditional red-sauce enchiladas during my corn-tortilla-aversion days. They amplified what I hated about corn tortillas, seeming somehow both dry and soggy at the same time. (Now, of course, I love a good salsa-logged tortilla.)

This…is not that recipe. I’m slightly embarrassed to say that once the idea had been sparked, I closed the magazine and opened the Internet. Cooking Light can be great, but for my first standard-enchilada foray I wanted something more definitive, authoritative. I would say “more authentic,” except that the recipe I eventually chose, from America’s Test Kitchen via Serious Eats, admits outright that it is neither authentically Mexican nor authentically Tex-Mex (for that, see chili gravy). It is, however, what many Americans (including me) would think of as a basic enchilada, and it is thoroughly tasty. It’s also streamlined—no frying the tortillas or dipping them one by one into the sauce, two steps that always put me off enchilada-making.

It seems to be versatile, too, with Serious Eats noting that you can swap out the chicken for an equal amount of just about anything, including pulled pork or beans and greens. I only had about a pound of shredded chicken on hand, so I also added a can of black beans, bringing the dish closer to its original inspiration. I really liked the combo of textures and will probably repeat it again in the future—I did end up with a bit of extra filling, but threw it in the freezer on the assumption that it will make a great quesadilla filling for an emergency dinner someday.

The original recipe only called for cheddar, but I mixed in Monterey Jack as well, for kicks (and vague notions of authenticity). I used 14 five-inch tortillas. (By the way, have you tried TortillaLand tortillas? They’re refrigerated dough rounds that you cook fresh on a dry skillet for a few minutes just before using them, and they’re brilliant—simple ingredients with no preservatives, the next best thing to making your own. This isn’t a sponsored statement; I’ve just been completely hooked on them ever since I discovered them. The corn ones aren’t quite as good as our local Mexican market’s, but much better than mainstream grocery-store brands. The flour ones are the best I’ve ever had. Total game-changer.) I would maybe add a bit more sauce next time, because I found them just a touch dry, but the flavor was tremendous and they fed my craving exactly.

A helpful hint for my future self, as well as for you: There are a lot of variations on this recipe online, and one (I found it at Annie's Eats, which credits Pink Parsley, which credits Tide and Thyme) makes the interesting innovation of cooking the chicken in the sauce. Part of the impetus for me making enchiladas in the first place was that I had some precooked chicken in the freezer I wanted to use up, but if you don't happen to have some on hand and are starting with raw chicken, this technique is a good way to kill two birds with one stone.

Easy enchilada sauce:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 onion, minced
½ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons chili powder
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons cumin
2 teaspoons sugar
16 ounces tomato sauce
½ cup water
Enchiladas:
3 cups (1½ pounds) shredded cooked chicken
12 ounces (3 cups) shredded Monterey Jack and/or sharp orange cheddar cheese (I recommend a mixture)
2 (4-ounce) cans chopped green chiles, drained (I used a combo of hot and mild)
½ cup minced fresh cilantro, plus extra for garnish
Salt and pepper to taste
12 to 14 (6-inch) corn tortillas

1. To make the sauce, heat the oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add the onion and salt and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in the chili powder, garlic, cumin, and sugar. Cook until fragrant, about 15 seconds. Stir in the tomato sauce and water. Bring to a simmer and cook until slightly thickened, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. (Makes about 2½ cups; any extra can be stored in the fridge for up to a week or frozen for several months.)
2. Combine the chicken, 2 cups of the cheese, ½ cup of the enchilada sauce, chiles, and cilantro in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
3. Heat the oven to 400 degrees.
4. Stack the tortillas on a plate, cover with a damp paper towel, and microwave until warm and pliable, 40 to 60 seconds.
5. Lightly coat a 9-by-13-inch baking dish with vegetable oil spray. Spread 1/3 cup filling evenly down the center of each tortilla. Tightly roll the tortilla around the filling and lay seam-side-down in the baking dish.
6. Lightly spray the enchiladas with vegetable oil spray. Pour 1 to 1½ cups of sauce all over the enchiladas so that they are thoroughly coated. Sprinkle the remaining 1 cup cheese over the top. Cover the dish with foil and bake until the enchiladas are heated through, 20-25 minutes.
7. Remove the foil and bake until the cheese browns slightly, about 5 minutes more.
8. Remove from oven, let cool for 5 to 10 minutes, and serve garnished with extra cilantro.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

KALE WALDORF SALAD WITH CHICKEN

Another stellar winter salad. Like the Cobb, Waldorf salad falls into the category of old-school foods I’ve only read about, and its traditional mayonnaise-based dressing ensured that I steered far away from it for the first few decades of my life. However, its core apple-walnut-cranberry combo is so classic that when I encountered this modern spin on the Waldorf at Simply Recipes, I realized it wasn’t a far cry from some of my existing favorites. I immediately envisioned it with poached chicken added in, and the original mayo dressing swapped out in favor of my beloved yogurt-Dijon vinaigrette, which basically just makes it an easier, more portable version of old reliable Crispy Chicken and Apple Salad—the only real differences (besides not-crispy chicken) being sturdy kale instead of tender greens, and the addition of celery. The result is a satisfyingly fresh, crunchy and colorful concoction, the leftovers from which are ideal to take to work for a light but satisfying weekday lunch. Even though I scoff a bit at the healthy-eating bandwagon that takes over the airwaves this time of year, this is exactly the kind of food I crave in January.

¼ cup white wine vinegar
¼ cup plain yogurt
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon coarse salt, plus extra to taste
Freshly ground pepper
¼ cup olive oil
1 bunch Tuscan kale, tough ribs removed, leaves thinly sliced
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, poached, cooled and cubed
2 large sweet red apples, cored, and chopped
1 cup sliced celery
1 cup walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
½ cup sweetened dried cranberries

1. Whisk together the vinegar, yogurt, mustard, ½ teaspoon salt, pepper and olive oil in a small bowl.
2. Place the sliced kale in a large bowl, drizzle with about a quarter to a third of the dressing, and mix well with your hands until each leaf is thoroughly coated. Let sit for at least 15 minutes, while you prepare the other ingredients.
3. Add the chicken, apples, celery, walnuts, and cranberries. Add the rest of the dressing (or to taste), toss to combine, and season with salt and pepper.

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

FAVORITE RECIPES OF 2015

 OK, I probably just need to write a macro that will begin every entry expressing shame at the passage of time since my last one and determination to turn over a new leaf. 2015 was a straight-up dud in terms of quantity, with just 18 posts—the fewest in this site’s 11-year history. A lot of recipes worth remembering and sharing fell by the wayside, leaving my formerly straightforward system in disarray. But at least the cream rises to the top, and nearly every recipe I posted is one I’ve enjoyed multiple times.

I usually pick 10 favorite recipes to sum up a year, but that would be about 55% of my 2015 content right there, so I’ll whittle it down to five special gems:

1. Curried Roasted Cauliflower Soup not only introduced me to the deliciousness of cumin seed but decisively converted me to one of the year’s trendiest vegetables.
2. Unique, easy, and delicious, Roasted Chicken With Smoked Paprika, Blood Orange, and Ginger was the perfect dish to serve to my visiting parents and celebrate my mom’s birthday.
3. Kale Cobb Salad is A’s most regularly requested meal besides tacos, and I’m always happy to oblige.
4. I ate pounds and pounds of the incredibly addictive Green Beans With Almond Pesto last summer.
5. Thai Pork Tenderloin Salad got us through a sweltering and seemingly endless summer/fall, as well as sealing the deal on my new appreciation for raw cabbage.

Honorable mention, of course, goes to Blueberry Pie, with which I finally conquered my pie-making fears! I’m looking forward to baking more this year… And, dare I optimistically say, actually writing about it?

FARRO WITH ROASTED BROCCOLI AND FETA

I’m not a huge fan of the detox-and-diet trope that sweeps the food world in January, but I’m definitely feeling the need to normalize my eating after a month of travel and overindulgence. Luckily, it’s not much of a chore, since I love vegetables and am feeling pretty burned out on sweets anyway. Coming home from my Christmas vacation in Minnesota, I was craving greens and wanted a supply of light but satisfying fare to get me through the short work week, but with simple ingredients I could obtain on a lunch-break one-stop-shop at Trader Joe’s and not spend too much time cooking. I remembered a recipe from Fine Cooking via Use Real Butter I’d tried months ago that would meet all my criteria.

When I made it last summer, this farro dish seemed solid but not super—very similar to a broccoli quinoa salad I’d taken a passing fancy to a few years before (and, I’m now realizing, wrote a very similar healthy-eating intro about in January 2012). But this time, everything clicked. I especially loved the mix of browned, crisped broccoli florets with the more tender and juicy stem pieces. (And if you’re lucky enough to get any leaves on your stalks, they’re the best part! Throw them in the oven for five minutes and they take on a delightful roasted-kale quality.) For a bit more flavor and moisture, I upped the olive oil and added some lemon juice and zest, but if you don’t have citrus on hand, a extra sprinkle of vinegar would do the trick. The recipe is not only flexible but versatile: I ate it as a cold salad this summer, but we’re having what passes for a cold snap in SoCal, so I enjoyed it slightly warm this time around. It just goes to show that sometimes, in food as in love, finding a keeper is all in the timing.

1 cup farro (pearled or whole-grain)
1 to ½ pounds broccoli
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
½ cup crumbled feta
2 green onions, thinly sliced
1 generous pinch crushed red pepper flakes
2 to 4 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 to 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Zest and juice of ½ lemon (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Bring 2 quarts of salted water to a boil. Add farro and cook until tender, about 20-30 minutes for pearled and 45-60 minutes for whole-grain. Drain and let cool.
3. While the farro boils, break down the broccoli into bite-size florets. Don’t throw the stalks and leaves away—peel the thick outer skin away from the stalks and slice them lengthwise, then into ¼-inch pieces, and reserve any leaves for later.
4. Toss the broccoli florets and stalks with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spread on a foil- or parchment-lined baking sheet and roast for 20 to 30 minutes, stirring periodically, until the pieces are tender and browned at the edges. About five minutes before the end of the cooking time, toss in the leaves and roast until crisp.
5. Add the broccoli, feta, green onions, red pepper flakes, and parsley to the farro in a large bowl. Sprinkle with red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, and lemon zest and/or juice if desired. Toss everything together and serve warm or at room temperature.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 to 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Great!

THAI PORK TENDERLOIN SALAD

I’m going to try not to dwell on how far behind I am. Recapping all this summer’s successful recipes is apparently going to be an impossible task, so let’s skip ahead to fall—but first, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you about the year’s top salad, as far as our household is concerned. Coincidentally, it’s the second recipe in a row I’ve posted from the New York Times, which I normally don’t follow foodwise, but considering it’s given me double slam dunks, I may need to remedy that.

This salad shares some DNA with our fave peanut-lime chicken rice noodle salad, including, unfortunately, being something of a pain in the ass to put together. I’m not going to lie: Assembling the marinade is pretty time-consuming. I’ve made recipes with longer lists of ingredients and more steps, but somehow this one contains just the right combination of chopping and mincing and juicing and zesting to add up to a massive time suck. I recommend doing it the night before, so the pork can marinate for 24 hours, but make sure you’ve got something quick and easy planned for dinner that evening, because this marinade is a full-time kitchen job in itself.

The good news is that everything else about this recipe is A+. In a genius move, some of that laborious marinade will be reserved (separate from the raw pork, of course) to serve as your dressing as well. The resulting salad is flavorful, refreshingly crunchy, chock-full of a rainbow of vegetables, and enjoyable year-round (perfect for bridging the awkward, sweltering gap that lies between summer and actual fall in SoCal, and which I complain about annually). It’s a champion leftover generator in both quantity and quality—with sturdy cabbage as the base, you can store it all mixed together in grab-and-go servings (I hate dragging a million different little containers to work for meals that can’t be assembled until just before eating). It has pork, which I’m getting more and more fond of (a nice break from the 74 chicken recipes I’ve accumulated over the years), and yields the most perfectly cooked tenderloin I’ve ever managed to make, with little to no effort. Also, cashews and toasted coconut will never fail to delight me.

A few other notes:

• The original recipe was titled “Spicy Thai Pork Tenderloin Salad,” but I didn’t detect much heat either time I made this. I used just one jalapeno, so next time I might try two, or the Thai bird peppers instead.
• I couldn’t fit 8 cups of sliced cabbage in my largest mixing bowl, so I had to scale back to 6, which turns out to be plenty for six generous main-dish servings.
• I also cut back on the herbs. I’m usually the one doubling the cilantro in recipes, but 4 cups of herbs to 8 cups (or 6 in my case) of cabbage seemed a bit excessive, especially when that included a full 1½ cups of mint, which can be so overpowering.

Marinade/dressing:
1½ pounds boneless pork tenderloin
⅔ cup thinly sliced shallots (about 4 shallots)
⅔ cup chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
5 tablespoons light brown sugar
6 garlic cloves, minced
5 tablespoons soy sauce
5 tablespoons peanut or grapeseed oil (I just used olive oil)
Juice and zest of 4 limes
3-inch piece peeled ginger root, minced
2 tablespoons Asian fish sauce
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 to 2 Thai bird, serrano or jalapeño chile peppers, seeded and minced

Salad:
6-8 cups Napa or regular cabbage, thinly sliced
5 scallions, trimmed and thinly sliced
2 small Kirby or Persian cucumbers, thinly sliced
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 cup cilantro leaves
¾ cup mint leaves
1 cup basil leaves
1¼ cups roasted cashews or peanuts, toasted and chopped
¼ cup unsweetened coconut chips or large flakes, toasted

1. Pat pork dry with paper towel. In a bowl, combine shallot, cilantro, 2 tablespoons sugar, garlic, soy sauce, oil, lime zest and juice, ginger, fish sauce, salt and chile. Pour a quarter of the mixture into a blender, add remaining sugar and purée until a smooth, loose paste forms. Place tenderloin in a large bowl and spread the paste all over pork. Marinate at room temperature for 2 hours, or cover and refrigerate up to 24 hours; turn the tenderloin occasionally.
2. Save the remaining, unblended mixture to use as dressing (store, covered, in the refrigerator).
3. When ready to cook the pork, preheat the broiler and arrange the oven rack at least 4 inches from the heat. Place the pork on a wire rack and place the rack on a foil-lined baking sheet. Broil pork, turning occasionally, until well browned and meat reaches an internal temperature of 145 degrees, 4 to 10 minutes per side depending upon the heat of your broiler. Keep an eye on it so it doesn’t overcook. (You can grill the pork instead if you prefer.) Let meat rest while you prepare the salad.
4. In a large bowl, combine the salad ingredients, reserving the herbs, cashews and coconut. Whisk the dressing and use just enough to dress the salad, tossing to combine. Let sit for a few minutes for the flavors to meld, then right before serving, add herbs and toss again.
5. To serve, slice the pork. Arrange salad on a platter and top with sliced pork. Scatter cashews and coconut on top, and drizzle with a little more of the remaining dressing, to taste.

Serves: 6-8
Time: 2 hours, plus 2 to 24 hours of marinating
Leftover potential: Great. The mixed and dressed salad will stay relatively intact in the refrigerator for at least three to four days.

OVEN-ROASTED CHICKEN SHAWARMA

With—holy cow!—565 posts here already, I sometimes wonder exactly how many more recipes I have room for in my life. I would have thought my chicken-on-a-pita niche was already amply filled by the painstakingly perfected chicken gyros, but then in some food blog roundup I spotted this photo from The Gourmet RD and realized my world would not be complete without a chicken-and-hummus-on-a-pita version. The original recipe is from Sam Sifton at the New York Times, and it is both easy and fabulous: A lengthy marinade in lemon and spices followed by a stint in a hot oven (be forewarned, it will spatter and smoke) yields chicken that’s tender yet crispy-edged and ultra-flavorful. I nestled it atop some creamy hummus on a chewy flatbread, dotted it with cucumber and tomato slices, drizzled on a quick garlic-lemon-yogurt sauce, and was very happy. You might add hot sauce, feta, olives, baba ganoush or lettuce, or serve it all over rice or greens instead. But do try it, because it’s pretty magical.

2 lemons, juiced
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon olive oil
6 cloves garlic, peeled, smashed, and minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons paprika
½ teaspoon turmeric
1 pinch ground cinnamon
Red pepper flakes, to taste
1½ to 2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 large red onion, peeled and quartered
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Pita bread
Toppings as desired (I like sliced cucumber, chopped tomato, hummus, and garlicky yogurt sauce)

1. For the chicken marinade, combine the lemon juice, ½ cup olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper, cumin, paprika, turmeric, cinnamon and red pepper flakes in a large bowl, then whisk to combine. Add the chicken and toss well to coat. Cover, and store in refrigerator for at least 1 hour and up to 24 hours.
2. When ready to cook, preheat oven to 425 degrees. Use the remaining tablespoon of olive oil to grease a rimmed sheet pan (I recommend lining it with foil first). Add the quartered onion to the chicken and marinade, and toss once to combine. Remove the chicken and onion from the marinade, and place on the pan, spreading everything evenly across it.
3. Put the chicken in the oven, and roast until it is browned, crisp at the edges and cooked through, about 30 to 40 minutes. Remove from the oven, allow to rest 5 minutes, then slice into bits. Scatter the parsley over the top and serve on pita with the toppings of your choice.

Serves: 5-6
Time: 1 hour, plus 1 to 24 hours of marinating
Leftover potential: Good (store chicken/onion mixture separate from pita, sauce and other toppings; reheat and assemble when ready to eat)

GARDEN VEGETABLE PIZZA

I’m always on the lookout for more veggie pizza recipes, especially ones that can work as somewhat light, summery fare—since pizza is about the only thing I’ll suffer turning the oven on for during even the worst heatwave. This recipe from Annie’s Eats meets both criteria, with a colorful confetti of seasonal bounty. You could use goat cheese, feta, or another crumbly cheese instead if you must, but I love the creamy-garlicky Boursin here. (A is not a fan, however, so I’ll be scarfing this one solo.)

I highly recommend using a mandoline to get the summer squash slices as thin as possible; I was always too scared to use one, but I recently acquired this Oxo slicer/grater set and only belatedly realized it was basically a mandoline in disguise. Surprise, surprise, I love it! The cheese graters are just OK, but I could slice and julienne things all day long. However, you’re going to have to slice your cherry tomatoes by hand, and it’s just as much of a pain as you think it would be. If you want to use Roma or another larger tomato instead, I’d understand.

The only change I’ve made to the recipe is to thinly slice the red onion. Against my better judgment, I followed the original instructions to chop it, and the oniony flavor ended up almost overwhelming the whole pizza. Thin slices are less intrusive—and as a bonus, you can use your mandoline for that too! I also garnished with more basil, because nothing beats that fresh green taste with summer vegetables.

2 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra to taste
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 pound pizza dough
1 very small zucchini, very thinly sliced
1 very small yellow squash, very thinly sliced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
6 ounces mozzarella cheese, shredded
1 cup grape or cherry tomatoes, sliced
½ red onion, thinly sliced
2-3 ounces soft garlic herb cheese, such as Boursin
¼ cup chopped fresh basil leaves, plus extra to taste

1. Heat the oil in a small skillet over medium-low heat. Stir in the garlic and red pepper flakes. Let the oil infuse for about 5 to 10 minutes, reducing the heat if the garlic starts to brown. Remove from the heat.
2. Meanwhile, place the zucchini and squash slices in a colander and toss with the salt. Let stand 15 to 20 minutes to allow excess water to drain from the vegetables. Lay the slices out on a clean kitchen towel and blot the surface to remove additional water and the salt.
3. To make the pizza, heat the oven to 450 degrees. Roll out the pizza dough on a baking sheet dusted with cornmeal. Brush the center of the dough with the garlic-infused oil. Evenly sprinkle on the mozzarella, then layer the zucchini and squash slices in concentric circles over the cheese. Top with the tomatoes, red onion, Boursin and basil.
4. Bake 10 to 12 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the crust is lightly browned. Remove from the oven, let cool slightly, slice, and garnish with additional fresh basil.

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

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE 2.0

Is it too late in the summer to talk about strawberry shortcake? Too bad. I’ve avoided baking traditional biscuits for most of my life, my irrational fear of making pie crust extending to any recipe that involved cutting butter into other ingredients. I made drop biscuits and cream biscuits, and even made “shortcake” using Bisquick in the very early days of this blog. That was all fine, but as soon as I successfully overcame my pie fear, it was time to unlock the top level of buttery flakiness in one of my favorite desserts.

There are an overwhelming number of strawberry shortcake formulas in the world, so I stuck with the always straightforward and reliable Simply Recipes, and was not disappointed. Because I was home alone for the week, I ate one biscuit straight out of the oven and froze the rest. Each night I’d defrost one, macerate a single serving of berries, whip a single serving of cream (Did you know you can do this? Immersion blenders are magical), and enjoy my solo dessert. Thus I can’t vouch for the exact accuracy of the berry and cream quantities listed here, since I was winging it from day to day. I suspect I used more than 6 cups of berries—I like a lot of fruit on my shortcake. I even used peaches once, when the berries ran out, and that was also tasty.

I took the opportunity to try Food52’s nifty recipe for yogurt whipped cream, which is as tangily delicious as promised, but you can of course use regular whipped cream too.

Berries:
3 pints (about 6 cups) strawberries
½ cup sugar, or to taste
Biscuits:
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1½ tablespoons baking powder
¾ teaspoon salt
¾ cup (1½ sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1½ cups heavy cream
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
Yogurt whipped cream:
1 cup heavy cream, chilled
½ cup plain yogurt, Greek or otherwise, full-fat or otherwise, chilled
A few pinches of sugar (optional)

1. Cut the stems away from the strawberries and discard. Cut the strawberries in half, and then in either quarters or thick slices. Put the cut strawberries into a large bowl and sprinkle with ¼ cup sugar. Taste, and add up to another ¼ cup sugar depending on how sweet your strawberries are and how sweet you want them. Gently stir until coated and let sit at room temperature for about 20 minutes, until the berries soften and begin to release their juices.
2. Meanwhile, to make the biscuits, vigorously whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Cut the butter into the flour mixture, either using your fingers, a pastry cutter, a fork, or a food processor, until the largest pieces of butter are pea-sized.
3. Mix the vanilla and cream together. Make a well in the center of the flour and pour the cream into it. Mix with a fork until the mixture is just combined. It should look rather shaggy and feel a little dry. Gently knead by hand a few times to form a loose ball of dough.
4. Place the dough on a lightly floured surface and form it into an 8-inch square, about ¾ inch to 1 inch thick. Place it on a parchment- or silicone-lined baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for 20 minutes.
5. Mash about half of the berries in the bowl and stir to mix. Let sit while you bake the biscuits.
6. Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Remove the biscuit dough from refrigerator, cut into 9 even squares, and spread them about 2 inches apart on the baking sheet. Bake until medium golden brown, 18 to 20 minutes. Let cool on a wire rack.
7. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk (or using a hand mixer or immersion blender, or by hand), beat heavy cream and yogurt (with a little sugar if desired) on medium-high speed until soft peaks form. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to serve.
8. To serve, slice each biscuit in half horizontally and place cut side up in a wide, shallow bowl. Ladle strawberries over each biscuit and add a dollop of whipped cream.

Serves: 9
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: OK. Biscuits are best freshly baked, but they can be frozen and defrosted in the microwave; the texture will suffer a bit, but the flavor is still good and macerated strawberries hide a multitude of sins. (You might also try freezing the unbaked dough squares and baking them in small quantities as needed.) If eating them singly, use about 1/3 to ½ cup macerated with ½ to 1 tablespoon sugar per biscuit. If you have an immersion blender, it’s easy to make whipped cream in small quantities; per serving, I use a few tablespoons of cream whipped with a heaping tablespoon of yogurt.