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.

WINTER PANZANELLA

Will I ever tire of kale salads? Probably not, especially if they contain apples and cheese and roasted squash. I love the fresh, grassy flavor of raw kale, and I love how sturdy and convenient the leftovers are. This recipe might seem similar to others I’ve made in the past, but it might even better, because it’s rounded out with croutons that give it enough heft to be a main course. Throw in an assertive maple-mustard-balsamic vinaigrette and the satisfyingly meaty flavor of smoked cheese, and who could resist?

I’m not sure where I stumbled across a link to this post at Five and Spice, but I was immediately taken with the idea of a wintery spin on the classic panzanella. The original recipe included roasted beets, but beets are one of the few vegetables I just can’t find a love for no matter how hard I try (they taste like dirt to me), so I skipped those and increased the squash quantity instead (I hate using only part of a squash anyway). I also increased the kale amount (to use a full bunch and because I adore it), decreased the bread (so all the croutons fit in my 12-inch skillet in an even layer) and replaced the smoked mozzarella with smoked Gouda (because I love Gouda but don’t remember to buy it often enough). All good moves, but I’m particularly proud of my two final touches: throwing the red onion in the oven with the squash instead of leaving it raw (because roasted onion is crazy delicious and raw can be overpowering), and adding dried thyme to the croutons (which I know from experience makes them extra irresistible).

The end result is an incredibly pleasing jumble of textures (crisp, crunchy, tender, creamy, chewy) and flavors (sweet, tart, smoky, salty, savory) that makes a great lunch or light dinner. It’s so good, I’m almost sad that winter is over and soon butternut squash will be out of season…. That is, until I remember that soon I’ll be able to eat my delicious summer kale salad.

1 small butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1-inch cubes (about 3-4 cups)
1 medium red onion, cut into thin wedges (eighths or sixteenths)
6 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
6-8 ounces ciabatta or other good, crusty bread, cut into 1-inch cubes (about 4 cups)
¼ teaspoon dried thyme
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon maple syrup (preferably Grade B)
1 teaspoon grainy Dijon mustard
1 small garlic clove, crushed and minced (about ¼ teaspoon)
1 bunch Tuscan kale, stemmed and thinly sliced (about 4 cups)
1 large, tart, crisp apple (I recommend Granny Smith), cored and cubed
About 4-6 ounces smoked Gouda, cut into ½-inch cubes (about ½-¾ cup)

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment, place the cubed squash and onion wedges on it, and toss with 1 tablespoon olive oil, plus salt and pepper to taste. Spread the vegetables out in a single layer, put the baking sheet in the oven, and roast until tender and browned, about 20-30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool.
2. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the bread cubes and toss well. Season with salt and pepper and the dried thyme. Toast, tossing frequently, until croutons are crisp and golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
3. In a small bowl, whisk together the balsamic vinegar, maple syrup, mustard, garlic, ¼ teaspoon salt, and pepper to taste. Gradually whisk in ¼ cup oil, mixing until emulsified.
4. Place the sliced kale in a large bowl and pour about half the dressing over it. Toss well to coat, massaging the dressing into the kale with your hands. Let the kale sit in the dressing for at least 15 minutes.
5. Once the butternut squash and onions have cooled to about room temperature, add them to the bowl with the kale. Add a little more dressing and toss again. Add the cheese and apple cubes, finish with dressing to taste (you may not quite use it all), and toss thoroughly until well combined.
6. About 15 minutes before serving, add the bread cubes and toss well. (But if you are saving some salad for later, store the bread cubes for those servings separately and don’t add them to the salad until shortly before you plan to eat it.)

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great (store bread cubes separately from rest of salad).

CHICKEN AND APPLES IN HONEY-MUSTARD SAUCE

I first made this in 2012 but forgot to take a photo. I put it in my “to make again” file and waited until the seasons rolled back around to autumnal weather, when apples and cider and dishes composed entirely of different shades of brown seemed like a good idea again. That time I did snap a picture, but now a few months have passed and the details have faded somewhat from my mind—yet I don’t want to wait yet another year to share this, because it’s one of those simple crowd-pleasers that are good to have in your back pocket (metaphorically, that is; please don’t keep actual food in your back pocket). It’s pretty much what it sounds like: sautéed chicken and apples in a sweet sauce with a mustardy kick. You could eat it on its own, but it’s nice to have a starch to soak up some of that sauce; my Germanic heart went with egg noodles, although rice would also be nice if you are so inclined.

The original post at Simply Recipes notes that the sauce is mild and you can double the cider, honey, and mustard, leaving out the chicken broth, for a more intense flavor. I can’t quite remember, but I dimly recall that I tried that and found it a little too sweet and syrupy for my taste; the broth adds an important savory note. I do like having plenty of sauce to cover my noodles, so I’m thinking one-and-a-half times the cider/honey/mustard measurements plus all the chicken broth is the way to go, and those are the quantities I’ve noted below. A and I both thought onions might also add a good counterpoint flavor, so I might try throwing some in when I add the apples next time. I’ll try to iron out the details when I make this again in fall 2014.

¾ cup apple cider
1½ teaspoons cornstarch
Salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1½ tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
½ cup flour
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium unpeeled apples, cored and cut into ¼-inch thick slices (use good cooking apples, such as Fuji, Granny Smith, Jonathan, Jonagold, Pippin, or McIntosh)
½ cup chicken broth
Chopped fresh parsley to taste

1. Whisk cider, cornstarch, mustard, honey, and salt and pepper to taste in a bowl. Set aside.

2. Salt the chicken well and dust it in flour. Shake off the excess.

3. In a large nonstick skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the chicken breasts and cook until golden-brown on one side, about 3-4 minutes. Turn chicken, add apples, and cook until the chicken has browned on the other side.

4. Add chicken broth and cider mixture to the pan and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to low, cover the pan, and simmer until chicken is tender, about 15 minutes.

5. With a slotted spoon, remove chicken and apples to serving plates. (I like to slice the chicken breasts after they rest for a few minutes.) If sauce looks too thin, increase the heat and reduce it slightly. Spoon sauce over chicken and apples and sprinkle with parsley. (If serving with egg noodles, I toss them into the pan with the sauce until they’re well coated and then serve the chicken, apples, and parsley on top.)

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

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.

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.

KALE SALAD WITH APPLES, ALMONDS, AND PECORINO

This is the salad I served with the pumpkin ricotta gnocchi. It’s not revolutionary—strikingly similar to other kale salads I’ve tried, in fact—but it is quite delicious. I spotted the recipe at Whipped and realized that although I’ve tried peaches with kale, I haven’t yet tried the more obvious apple. Not surprisingly, it turns out that leafy greens, toasted nuts, sharp cheese, and crisp apples are a winning combination, especially in the fall and winter.

My only changes were to the dressing: I added some mustard, because I love it and knew it would play well with the cheese and apple, increased the lemon juice, because I love tart dressings and didn’t want to have part of a lemon hanging around, and decreased the olive oil, because ⅓ cup seemed like a lot. This was my first time trying Pecorino in chunks, rather than just shredded, and on its own I found it a bit too sheepy, although it worked well when mixed with all the other ingredients. I happened to have Pecorino in my fridge already and this was a good way to use it up, but in the future I’d be more tempted to just use a good sharp cheddar, as in my favorite kale salad. It’s just hard for me to say no to cheddar, particularly with apples.

This was also my first time trying the popular “massage” method of making kale salad. Proponents claim that it makes the kale tender and sweeter, but I’ve never found the taste or texture of raw kale to be a problem, maybe because I usually use Tuscan kale for salads and it’s already less tough, or maybe because I try to let it marinate in the dressing for a while before I eat it, which helps the leaves wilt a bit. But since the recipe specifically mentioned it, I dove in, and I do have to admit that it’s a great way of making sure that the dressing gets into every nook and cranny of the leaves. I’ll probably mix my kale salads by hand from now on, but if you’re squeamish about getting your hands messy, tossing very thoroughly with tongs will accomplish more or less the same thing. Some kale-massaging enthusiasts recommend massaging the kale without the dressing or just with salt, before you even make the salad, but I’m far too lazy to bother with that—and perfectly happy with my kale salads the way they are, thank you.

1 bunch Tuscan kale, washed, dried, stems removed, leaves chopped into ribbons
⅓ cup slivered or chopped almonds, toasted
½ cup cubed (¼ inch squares) Pecorino cheese
1–2 apples (such as Pink Lady, Gala, or Fuji), thinly sliced
Juice of 1 lemon (about 3–4 tablespoons)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
¼ cup olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

1. To make the dressing, whisk lemon juice, mustard, and olive oil in a small bowl until combined, then season with salt and pepper.

2. Place kale in a large bowl and drizzle dressing over it, massaging it into the leaves with your hands. (You may have more dressing than desired, depending on how much kale you have.) When all the kale is coated, add the cheese, almonds, and apples and toss together. Let sit about 15 minutes before serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, but you may want to wait to add the apples until you’re ready to eat

MUSTARD-ROASTED SAUSAGE, POTATOES, APPLES, AND ONIONS

This was my (belated) nod to Oktoberfest. I based it on a simpler recipe from Dinner: A Love Story (the book version of which I recently read and really enjoyed; even though it’s geared toward parents, I do share Jenny Rosenstratch’s love of strategizing). Being a frivolous childless person, I promptly made it more complicated. The original recipe just roasted the components with olive oil, salt, and pepper and then recommended serving it with a dollop of mustard, but I thought immediately of mustard-roasted potatoes and figured that fantastic crunchy, zippy coating would be pretty fantastic when applied to onions, apples, and sausage as well. So I married the two recipes and it was wonderful. The mustard coating doesn’t get delectably crispy as it does on the potatoes alone, but instead it turns into a savory sauce that’s nearly as good. Served with green salad and a beer, this is a hearty, comforting, and extremely easy fall/winter meal.

(Confidential to Westerners: I have finally settled on my favorite sausage: the spicy chicken Parmesan at Sprouts. All their sausages are handmade, from scratch, in store: worth the drive across town (all of 5 miles, as opposed to less than a mile for my other grocery stores--yes, I am spoiled) for me! Whole Foods makes its own too, but I have to say, Sprouts is superior.)

¼ cup whole-grain Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon butter, melted
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
1½ teaspoons dried oregano
½ teaspoon finely grated lemon peel
½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 pound small unpeeled red or yellow potatoes, halved
1 medium onion, cut into eighths
Leaves from 2 sprigs thyme (optional)
2 to 3 baking apples (I used Fuji), unpeeled, cored and cut into 1-inch cubes
4 uncooked Italian sausages (about 1 pound)
2 tablespoons cider vinegar (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together mustard, olive oil, butter, lemon juice, garlic, oregano, lemon peel, and salt. Add potatoes, onions, and thyme; sprinkle generously with freshly ground black pepper and toss to coat.

3. Pour potato mixture into a large baking dish and bake for 20 minutes.

4. Add apples to baking dish and toss well. Place sausages atop potato mixture and return to oven. Turn heat down to 400 degrees and bake another 30 minutes, turning sausages over halfway through, until sausages are cooked and potatoes are tender. During the last 5 minutes of cooking, stir in cider vinegar, if desired.

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

BROCCOLI SLAW WITH APPLES, WALNUTS, AND CRANBERRIES

I feel like this barely counts as a recipe, especially since I found it on the back of a package, yet I’ve made it several times and it continues to be really tasty, so why not?

As I’ve mentioned, I always buy Trader Joe’s broccoli slaw to go with my fish and chips, because I’m not a fan of cabbage. (Well, I do like cabbage slaw with my fish tacos. I am a complicated person.) I only use half the bag for that, though, and I couldn’t ever figure out what to do with the rest. Sometimes I’d sprinkle it on top of a green salad, but mostly I’d stash it in the fridge intending to find a use for it, and the next time I’d pull it out it would have gone bad. Then one day, I—duh!—turned the bag over and spotted a recipe that looked pretty decent, with apples, walnuts, and cranberries. The recipe just said to use “your favorite dressing,” and I immediately thought of the creamy mustard vinaigrette that goes with my beloved arugula, potato, and green bean salad, a dressing I find myself making often for other purposes. It’s great on crispy chicken salad, which also contains apples, walnuts, and cranberries, so I knew it would work with this slaw.

The result is a wonderfully crunchy, fresh-yet-fallish salad that’s perfect with a grilled cheese sandwich on the side for lunch or a light dinner. I halved the original recipe but usually end up increasing the cranberries and apples a bit. This time, because I had orphaned green onions in the fridge, I threw in some scallion greens and they made it even better; I don’t think I’d bother buying them just for this recipe, but it’s worth adding if you have one to spare, because the oniony bite helps to further balance the sweetness of the cranberries and apples. I think bagged broccoli slaw is available at other stores besides Trader Joe’s, but I’m sure you could make your own if you have a food processor or a good grater—it’s just shredded broccoli stems with a little shredded carrot mixed in.

6 ounces broccoli slaw
2–4 tablespoons dried cranberries
2–4 tablespoons chopped walnuts, toasted
1 medium apple, diced
1 green onion, green part only, thinly sliced (optional)
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons plain yogurt
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon coarse salt
Freshly ground pepper to taste
2 tablespoons walnut oil or olive oil

1. In a large bowl, conmbine the broccoli slaw, cranberries, walnuts, apple, and green onion (if using).

2. In a small bowl, whisk together vinegar, yogurt, mustard, salt and pepper. Add oil in a slow, steady stream, whisking until emulsified.

3. Pour dressing over slaw (you may not use it all; start with about three-quarters, toss well, and then add more gradually as needed) and stir until all the ingredients are well coated. Let sit for about 15 minutes before serving.

Serves: 2–3
Time: 25 minutes
Leftover potential: Unknown.

CRISPY CHICKEN AND APPLE SALAD

In my ongoing quest for satisfying cold-weather salads, I have bookmarked approximately one million that involve apples and/or dried cranberries, all very subtly different. This one, originally from Everyday Food, which I spotted at Serious Eats, combines those two uber-autumnal/wintry ingredients with lettuce, slices of breaded pan-fried chicken breast, and a creamy dressing. The original dressing looked unappetizing to me—it was basically just a mixture of mayonnaise and buttermilk, with a little vinegar and parsley thrown in—and it is a sign of my newfound passion for mustard that I immediately thought, “But this salad would be perfect with a little Grey Poupon!” So instead I used a lighter, spunkier yogurt-Dijon vinaigrette lifted from one of my very favorite salads, a dressing that has become my go-to default whenever I need to improvise. As I suspected, it was a delectable counterpoint to the chicken and the crisp, sweet-tart fruit. When I ate the leftovers for lunch the next day, I threw in a handful of walnuts, and that made everything even better, so I’m suggesting it as an option below. This isn’t a revolutionary combination of flavors—it’s so intuitive, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen similar salads on fast-food menus, although of course the homemade version is infinitely better—but it makes an easy, wholesome, pleasing meal. We both really liked it, so I’m guessing it’s going to become a regular menu staple around here.

¼ cup all-purpose flour
1¼ teaspoons salt, divided
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 large egg
1 cup panko breadcrumbs
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, gently pounded to an even thickness
5 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
3 tablespoons plain yogurt
1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard
8 cups red-leaf lettuce leaves
2 large apples, cut into thin wedges
½ cup dried cranberries
½ cup toasted walnuts (optional)

1. On three small plates, set up the dredging stations: the flour on one, the egg whisked with 1 tablespoon of water on another, and the breacrumbs on the third. Season the flour with ¼ teaspoon salt and some freshly ground black pepper, and the panko with ½ teaspoon salt. Dry the chicken breasts thoroughly with paper towels until tacky.

2. In a medium skillet, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium until shimmering.

3. Dredge the chicken in the flour and shake off the excess, then in the egg mixture, allowing the excess to drip off, and finally in the breadcrumbs, pressing gently to adhere. Add the chicken to the skillet and cook until golden, then flip and finish cooking, 8 to 10 minutes total. Drain on paper towels, allow to cool for a few moments, and then slice into strips.

4. While the chicken cooks, whisk together vinegar, yogurt, mustard, and ½ teaspoon salt in a small bowl; season with pepper to taste. Add 3 tablespoons olive oil in a slow, steady stream, whisking until emulsified.

5. Lay the lettuce in a serving bowl or on a platter and scatter with the apples and cranberries (and walnuts, if desired). Lay the chicken over the top, drizzle with dressing, and serve.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, although chicken will be less crispy the next day; store all components (chicken, dressing, walnuts, unsliced apples, and cranberries) separately and assemble right before eating.

SPINACH-APPLE SALAD WITH MAPLE-CIDER VINAIGRETTE

Hot damn, this is a great fall-winter salad. I saw something similar on Annie’s Eats last month and thought it looked good, although I wasn’t quite sold on the dressing. (You can tell I’ve truly become a mustard convert, because I looked at the recipe and thought, “But where’s the Dijon?”) Then I skimmed the comments and noticed that someone mentioned making “almost the exact same thing but it had a maple-cider vinaigrette…and curry spiced pecans.” One quick Google later and I located that very recipe, from Southern Living, on MyRecipes, where it had an “Outstanding” rating—and Dijon in the dressing. Sold!

I made no changes to the recipe, except to halve the quantities because two people don’t need eight servings of salad (hence all the rather odd measurements; I went with “pinch” for the spices rather than “1/16 teaspoon,” but if you have a measuring spoon that small, by all means, go for precision) and to substitute feta for the goat cheese because I don’t like goat cheese. It sounds like kind of a hassle to have to candy the pecans, but (a) it’s actually super-easy, reminding me that I should make spiced, candied nuts all the time, because they are also awesome, and (b) you can make them ahead of time if you want, although I don’t recommend it because they’re so tasty they’re likely to get gobbled up as snacks before you even get around to making the salad. I do sort of question calling them “curried” pecans when they actually have more ginger than curry, and just as much salt and cayenne as curry; mine didn’t have a really noticeable curry flavor, but they were so good just as they were that I don’t really feel the need to tinker with the spice mixture—I just renamed them in my version of the recipe instead.

We loved everything about this salad—the crunch of the apple, nuts, and onion against the tenderness of the spinach and the creaminess of the feta; the salty-savory-sweet balance (the dressing is seriously delicious—I’m normally pretty sparing with salad dressings because I hate a soggy salad, but I used every last drop of this one); the colors; the wonderful fallishness; everything. I made it twice in the space of two weeks, first with this chicken recipe and then again with this one; it went perfectly with both and I’m still not tired of it, so you can bet it will be a cold-weather standard on my menu from now on. It makes a generous amount, so that even though I’d still technically call it a “side dish” (because it’s not quite hearty enough for me to make a meal of on its own), it took center stage at the table, with our small plates of chicken looking like side dishes in comparison. Which, really, is the way I prefer it—lots of veggies, fruit, and cheese with a modest garnish of meat!

Spiced candied pecans:
3 ounces pecan halves
1 tablespoon butter, melted
1½ tablespoons sugar
⅛ teaspoon ground ginger
1 pinch curry powder
1 pinch kosher salt
1 pinch ground red (cayenne) pepper

Maple-cider vinaigrette:
2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 tablespoon pure maple syrup (I recommend Grade B)
1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard
⅛ teaspoon kosher salt
⅛ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
⅓ cup olive oil

Salad:
5 to 6 ounces fresh baby spinach, thoroughly washed
1 small apple, thinly sliced (original recipe calls for Gala; I’m not sure what kind I used, since I tend to buy a big assortment of apples at the farmers’ market and then forget which one is which by the time I get them home, but I’d recommend leaning toward the tarter, firmer end of the spectrum)
½ small red onion, thinly sliced
2 ounces crumbled feta

1. To prepare the pecans, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Toss pecans in melted butter. Stir together sugar and next four ingredients in a bowl; add pecans, tossing to coat. Spread in a single layer in a nonstick aluminum foil- or parchment-lined pan. Bake 10 minutes or until lightly browned and toasted. Cool in pan on a wire rack 20 minutes; separate pecans with a fork. (Pecans may be made up to 1 week ahead; store in an airtight container.)

2. Meanwhile, to prepare the vinaigrette, whisk together cider vinegar and next four ingredients. Gradually whisk in oil until well blended. (Vinaigrette may be made up to 3 days ahead; cover and chill until ready to serve.)

3. To prepare the salad, combine spinach and next three ingredients in a bowl. Drizzle with desired amount of vinaigrette; toss to coat. Sprinkle with pecans.

Serves: 4 as a large side dish or a light lunch
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Poor for the completed dish, but the pecans and the vinaigrette will each keep tightly sealed and refrigerated for several days, and the rest of the salad is easy to put together, so you can make some salad right away and the rest later.

APPLE, FETA, AND PECAN PIZZA

As soon as I saw this recipe in the October issue of Cooking Light, I dogeared the page. I had almost skipped over it because the title contained the dreaded (to me) phrase “goat cheese,” but I quickly noticed that feta was suggested as a substitute, and I think we’re all aware how much I currently adore feta. I do think pizzas topped with salad are difficult to eat gracefully (I refuse to resort to a knife and fork), but I can never resist fresh arugula with lemon-Dijon vinaigrette, and when you add apples, pecans, and cheese, you’ve got a perfect early-autumn meal.

Everything came together exactly as you’d expect. My!New!Oven! hadn’t been installed yet, so I didn’t follow the recipe exactly, using my now-habitual cast-iron-skillet-on-the-stovetop method and finishing it under the broiler (the only part of Sad Old Oven that still functioned). I realized while typing this just now that the recipe calls for a “six-grain pizza crust,” implying some sort of prepared, pre-cooked product, whereas I started with actual dough. I’m specifying dough in the recipe below, but I don’t think it should make too much of a difference which one you use; you just may need to cook it a bit longer when starting with raw dough. Just use your common sense—pizza recipes are always just loose suggestions anyway.

I did make a few changes that aren’t shown below. I doubled the dressing and arugula quantities, heaping some of the salad atop the pizza and whatever didn’t fit off to the side of the plate. This makes for a heartier meal and also gives you something to do with all the bits of nuts, cheese, apple, and arugula that will inevitably tumble off the pizza as soon as you take your first bite; just let them fall onto the plate, and then when you’re done with your pizza, stir all the detritus into the remaining greens and you’ve got a nice side salad to enjoy! I also amped up the lemon juice a bit in the dressing, because the honey was more noticeable than I’d expected and I prefer a more acidic taste with my salad; next time I might try leaving out the honey completely because I don’t think the added sugar is really needed when you’ve already got baked fruit. But all in all, the flavors went together wonderfully—the sweet apple, salty cheese, earthy nuts, and lemony dressing combine for a simple yet sophisticated lunch or light supper.

1 pound pizza dough
3 cups thinly sliced Fuji apple (about 8 ounces)
1 cup (4 ounces) crumbled feta or goat cheese
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1½ teaspoons honey
2 cups baby arugula
3 tablespoons chopped pecans, toasted

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Roll out pizza dough and place on a baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Arrange apple slices evenly over crust; top with cheese. Sprinkle thyme evenly over cheese. Bake for 8 minutes or until crust is crisp and browned and cheese is melted.

3. Combine oil, mustard, lemon juice, and honey in a medium bowl, stirring with a whisk. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add arugula and toss gently to coat. Sprinkle pecans evenly over pizza; top with arugula mixture.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; just store the cooked pizza, dressing, arugula, and pecans separately and assemble them after reheating the pizza.

FARMER’S LUNCH SANDWICHES

When called upon to rustle up a snack or easy weekend lunch for myself on the spur of the moment, I rarely resort to sandwiches, preferring instead a plate of small bites—cheese, bread or crackers, apples or some other fruit, and raw veggies or pickles if I have them (you can imagine how excited I was when I went to England for the first time and discovered this, called a ploughman’s lunch, on nearly every pub menu). But how could I resist this sandwichified version of my go-to meal, especially when it not only featured my favorite cheese-fruit combo, sharp cheddar and apples, but was also adorned with my new bestie, Dijon mustard, and the kicker, that mind-blowing shallot-jam sauce I wrote about last week?

Thanks to the Kitchn, this sandwich will be accompanying me on every summer picnic—and I plan to find a lot of excuses to have picnics, the better to eat more sandwiches. It’s simple enough to throw together in a few moments (just make the shallot-jam sauce ahead of time and keep it in the fridge—heck, make a double recipe and eat the other half over chicken) and to tote around without making a soggy mess, but the flavors are incredibly complex—the sharpness of the vinegar, cheese, mustard, and apples balanced by the sweetness of the jam and the savoriness of the shallots—and the contrast between textures is exciting.

1 tablespoon olive oil
5 medium shallots, peeled and sliced thin
½ cup chicken broth
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
2 heaping tablespoons apricot jam or other preserves (such as peach or raspberry)
Salt and pepper to taste
1 loaf crusty baguette or ciabatta
Whole grain Dijon mustard
Good-quality, very sharp cheddar cheese, thickly sliced
Butter lettuce
2 hard, tart apples such as Granny Smith or Braeburn, very thinly sliced
2–3 tablespoons lemon juice (from one lemon)

1. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add the shallots, season with salt and pepper, and cook for about 5 minutes, until they begin to get soft and the bottom of the pan begins to brown. Add ½ cup chicken broth to the shallots, scraping the brown bits off the bottom of the pan. Let the broth reduce, then add the balsamic vinegar, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook for about 5 more minutes. Add the jam and stir to combine. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.

2. Slice the baguette into four sections and slice the sections in half lengthwise. Spread a little whole grain mustard on the top half of each section. Smear one-fourth of the shallot-jam sauce on the bottom half of each section.

3. Toss the apple slices in a little lemon juice, and then add them to the bottom half of each sandwich. Add a few leaves of lettuce and then top with a layer of cheese. Press the sandwiches closed.

Serves: 4 (1 sandwich per serving)
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: I didn’t test this—just made the sandwiches and ate them immediately—but the original recipe says that they’ll be OK wrapped in waxed paper and kept at room temperature for several hours, if you want to take them on a picnic.

APPLE CINNAMON BUTTERMILK CAKE

After the banana cake of awesomeness, I was on an everyday-cake kick—plus I had an open container of buttermilk to use up—so it seemed like a good time to try this recipe from Pinch My Salt. It should have been a slam dunk, given that it’s just a slight adaptation of my old fave Berry Buttermilk Cake. And yet… Well, no doubt it suffered in such close comparison to the banana cake, with which I had become slightly obsessed. For one thing, while not difficult to make, the apple cake wasn’t quite as easy to put together, requiring the use of an electric mixer (since it’s butter-based instead of oil-based) and the peeling and chopping of an apple. For another, I didn’t care for the way the apple chunks retained their al dente bite, interrupting the tender cake I craved. But most notably, somehow everything I love most about the berry version—moist, sunny yellow crumbs; crunchy sugar top; delectable lemon-vanilla flavor—wasn’t present in the apple version. Sure, I like berries more than apples to begin with, but who knew I loved lemon so much more than cinnamon? Did I somehow flub the apple cake, or was all the magic of the berry cake really in that half-teaspoon of lemon zest?

Granted, this was only a letdown when measured directly against the banana and berry cakes. The cake was rustic but gorgeous and was devoured quite happily in a matter of days. I may simply not be as much of an apple-cake-type person as I thought I was, and that’s OK (at least as long as there are bananas and berries around). If you’re craving the warmth of cinnamon and baked apple in a simple, tangy cake, you should definitely give this a try.

1 cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon cinnamon, plus extra for sprinkling
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (½ stick), at room temperature
⅔ cup plus 1 heaping tablespoon sugar, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 large egg
½ cup buttermilk
1 cup peeled and chopped baking apple (I used Fuji)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees and butter and flour an 8-inch round cake pan.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, ½ teaspoon cinnamon, and salt; set aside.

3. In a separate bowl, beat butter and ⅔ cup sugar with an electric mixer until pale and fluffy, about two minutes. Add vanilla and egg and beat well. With the mixer set to low speed, beat in about a third of the flour mixture. Add half the buttermilk and continue beating on low speed until incorporated. Scraping down sides of bowl as necessary, beat in another third of flour mixture, then the remaining buttermilk. Finally, beat in the remaining flour mixture until just combined.

4. Scrape batter into the cake pan, smoothing the top with a spatula. Scatter apple pieces evenly over the top of the cake batter, then sprinkle evenly with 1 heaping tablespoon sugar. Sprinkle lightly with cinnamon.

5. Bake until cake is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool in the pan for ten minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool until warm. Invert onto a plate.

Serves: 8
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good.

BRIE, APPLE, AND ARUGULA QUESADILLAS

This is fall wrapped in a tortilla, baby. Sharp mustard, creamy Brie, sweet crisp apple, and peppery arugula are a match made in heaven. (By the way, look at me enjoying mustard in a non-hot dog, non-salad dressing context! I’m all growed up!) For added autumnal bliss, we had butternut squash soup on the side, a combo I highly recommend.

This being Cooking Light, the quantities are rigidly precise, but since we’re basically just putting toppings on tortillas here, feel free to go with your instincts. I winged it because the “fajita-size” tortillas I had in the fridge were smaller than the ones called for; using one of those for each of us, with the topping measurements roughly halved, worked out well. We liked them so much that I ended up making them again later in the week, to accompany some of the leftover soup. One tip: Consider doubling the mustard-cider sauce. The second time, I accidentally made the full quantity instead of half, and A enjoyed using the remainder as a dip for his quesadilla (I dipped into my soup instead, because I am wild and crazy, as well as still secretly mustard-fearing).

Maybe I’m just uncoordinated, but I felt like the quesadillas needed a lot of wrangling while cooking—Brie gets very runny when it melts, the arugula leaves are puffy and like to scatter everywhere, and it’s hard to fold and flip the tortilla without apple slices trying to escape. This really worried me the first time around, but I quickly learned that any cheese that oozes out and browns on the skillet makes an excellent snack for the cook (oh, toasted cheese is such a miraculous substance). And with a bit of practice, I refined my method to make things a bit easier: Put the pepper atop the flat platform of the apples, not the wobbly pile of arugula as the original recipe asks; let the arugula wilt for a few seconds before folding the tortilla over; once you fold the tortilla, flip it over right away so that the cheese is on the top layer of fillings, not the bottom, which helps keep the spillage at bay—you can always flip it over again near the end of cooking if the first side isn’t browned enough for you. My end results were a bit homely, as the photos amply illustrate, but when something tastes this great, I don’t care. Quick to throw together, wholesome yet indulgent-seeming, satisfying enough to be a light meal, this recipe is destined to become a go-to.

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons apple cider
3 (10-inch) flour tortillas
6 ounces Brie cheese, rind removed, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices, divided
1 Fuji apple, cored and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices (about ½ pound), divided
3 cups arugula, divided
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, divided

1. Combine mustard and cider in a small bowl; stir well.

2. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Spread each tortilla with about 1½ teaspoons mustard mixture. Place 1 tortilla, mustard side up, in pan. Arrange one-third of cheese slices over half of tortilla; cook 1 minute or until cheese begins to melt. Arrange one-third of apple slices over cheese; sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon pepper and top with 1 cup arugula. Fold tortilla in half; press gently with a spatula. Cook 2 minutes on each side or until golden brown. Remove from pan. Repeat procedure twice with remaining 2 tortillas, cheese, apple slices, arugula, and pepper. Cut each quesadilla into 4 wedges.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: Unknown, but I wouldn’t bother. The recipe is so easy, you can just make a new batch when you’re ready for more.

WHOLE WHEAT APPLE MUFFINS

I’ve mentioned it before: I’m just not a muffin person. (This despite the fact that my first cat was named Muffin. Hey, what can I say? I was 10.) They’re cute and all, but so many of them are sweet enough to verge on dessert territory, which is usually not what I crave for breakfast or a snack (and when it’s time for dessert, I’ll take candy or cookies or pie or cake, thanks). But muffins are so popular with others and so crazy easy to make that I do end up baking them on occasion, usually when I have an ingredient to use up (cream cheese, zucchini, ripe bananas) or when I need to bring a treat somewhere to share. So when I was charged with bringing the refreshments for my department’s monthly meeting, which takes place at 9:00 a.m., muffins were the obvious choice. While watching the Academy Awards red carpet show, I made poppy-seed almond muffins so I could finally get a picture for the ol’ blog—and then noticed, while rereading that entry, that I referred to making those very muffins during the Oscars three years ago! Apparently, something about the Oscars says “muffin time” to me.

I also wanted a slightly more wholesome (or wholesome-seeming) muffin option, so I decided to try this recipe from the Smitten Kitchen (adapted from King Arthur Flour). Although they sound vaguely hippie-ish—and indeed, they’re blessedly far from the cupcakes-masquerading-as-muffins phenomenon I abhor—the butter, buttermilk (ordinarily, I might try yogurt, but when baking for others my shameless desire for approbation leads me to choose the full-fat option most of the time), and generous sprinkling of brown sugar make them not out of place in the “treat” category. The whole wheat flavor comes through, but the texture is spectacularly moist and tender, with an irresistible crunchy, caramelized top. (If I were actually making these for my own breakfast/snacking purposes, I might go a little easier on the brown sugar on top, but for showoff/sharing purposes, it added just the right amount of pizzazz.) I brought 17 of these to work and had only two left over, so I think they were well received. I’d certainly make them again, on the rare occasion when I want muffins.

The recipe was straightforward, and I followed it to the letter, except that I ran out of cinnamon about 2 teaspoons (a tablespoon is a lot!) and substituted cardamom for the remaining teaspoon. I used Fuji apples and chopped them a bit smaller in an effort to ensure that they cooked all the way through (a few of them remained crispish, though, which is not my favorite texture in baked goods but didn’t seem to bother anyone else).

1 cup (4 ounces) whole wheat flour
1 cup (4¼ ounces) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon cinnamon
½ cup (1 stick; 4 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup (3½ ounces) granulated sugar
½cup dark brown sugar, packed, divided
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup (8 ounces) buttermilk or yogurt
2 large apples, peeled, cored, and chopped

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Grease and flour muffin cups (or line them with paper liners) and set aside.

2. Mix together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon, and set aside. In a separate bowl, cream the butter and add the granulated sugar and ¼ cup of the brown sugar. Beat until fluffy. Add the egg and mix well; stop once to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. Mix in the buttermilk gently. Stir in the dry ingredients and fold in the apple chunks.

3. Divide the batter evenly among the prepared muffin cups, sprinkling the remaining ¼ cup brown sugar on top. Bake for 10 minutes, turn the heat down to 400 degrees, and bake for an additional 5 to 10 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. Cool the muffins for 5 minutes in the tin, then turn them out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Yields: 12–18
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: High. These will remain moist in a sealed container at room temperature for several days, and they can be frozen for longer storage.

WILD RICE, PORK CHOP, AND APPLE SKILLET

This was my first time cooking pork chops. I think it was also my first time eating pork chops since childhood, when I distinctly disliked them, along with steak, chicken breasts, and any other large uninterrupted slabs of meat, which always seemed so bland and chewy to me that I ended up trying to secretly spit them out when no one was looking, which I’m sure was lovely for my parents. Now I’m quite a fan of meat, but I’ll admit I prefer it in small bits mixed with other things, and still feel dismayed when presented with a plate dominated by a big piece of it. So I was nervous about this dish. But my mom had given me some wild rice—real, hand-harvested Minnesota wild rice, not the wimpy cultivated grocery-store stuff—which was another thing I had no experience in cooking (I’m not a big rice eater), and I figured the best place to look for a suitable recipes was the St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook, where this recipe jumped out a me. It looked dead easy, and I hoped the onions and broth and pork would jazz up the rice while the apples jazzed up the pork.

For my inaugural pork chop voyage, I figured I’d better spring for the highest-quality meat or it wouldn’t be a fair test of whether I really like pork or not. The Whole Foods meat counter (how I love ordering my meat from a real person, picking the pieces out myself, getting exactly the quantity I need, and having it neatly wrapped up in paper, not shrink-wrapped onto a tray; I wish there was a good old-fashioned butcher shop in my area) yielded four handsome, fresh pink chops, thick but not overwhelmingly large, for an eyebrow-raising $20 (although that’s only $5 a chop if you think about it, and the rice was free and the broth homemade and the other ingredients super-cheap, so after the initial sticker shock I determined it had been well worth it). I used Fuji apples and my enameled cast-iron Dutch oven. I had to do some guesswork when following the directions, because the recipe was for an electric skillet and just gave temperatures rather than stovetop settings (it also didn't call for any salt or pepper), but the method was so simple (brown pork, throw in other ingredients, let cook) that this wasn’t a problem. Even though the food had to cook for an hour, it was completely hands-off time, so this is still a decent recipe for a weeknight because you can go do something else while you’re waiting (I made a salad and then played some Wii!). Everything went smoothly and it tasted really good; the sweetness of the apple and the onion balanced out the earthy rice and savory pork, and the fact that the pork was braised in liquid with the rice kept it from the dreaded dryness. I probably won’t make this recipe again on a regular basis, but only because it’s rare to get my hands on the real wild rice. As for pork chops in general, I don’t think I’m going to start eating them on a regular basis, but I would definitely make them again if I found a good-looking recipe. Like, say, one that involves braised fennel…oh, dear.

4 pork chops, about 1 inch thick
1 tablespoon olive oil or canola oil
1 cup uncooked wild rice
1 large onion, sliced
2½ cups chicken broth
2 large red cooking apples, peeled, cored, and sliced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Heat the oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Season the pork chops on both sides with salt and pepper to taste, then add the chops to the pan and brown on both sides.

2. Remove chops to a plate and add wild rice to skillet. Arrange chops over wild rice. Place the onion slices over the chops. Pour chicken broth over everything and bring to a boil, then cover and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook at a slow simmer for 1 hour.

3. Add apple slices and simmer, covered, about 15 minutes more, or until apples and wild rice are tender and chops are fully cooked. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: High

APPLE BUTTER

I know this photo looks pretty much exactly like the one for pear butter, but it's just a trick of the light, I swear! The apple butter is a much darker shade of brown.

I’ve been making and canning this apple butter from Simply Recipes as a holiday treat for at least three years now and am always pleased with the results—sweet, tart, and spiced, with a velvety consistency, great on toast, on pancakes, or in oatmeal. Apples are cheap and plentiful at this time of year (I usually use Fujis because I can buy seconds—small and slightly flawed but perfectly tasty—at the farmers’ market for $1.50 a pound); the recipe is clever (I love that you initially cook the whole apple, peel, core, seeds, and all, to maximize the flavor and natural pectin content) and fairly easy, although I can always be heard swearing when it comes time to put the boiled apples through the food mill. Why does it seem that I need three hands to work a food mill effectively (one to turn the crank, and two to hold it steady so it doesn’t jump around)?

This year I finally bought my own food mill ($25 at Bed Bath and Beyond with their 20% off coupon), after always having to borrow one in the past. I’m a bit reluctant to own such an infernal device, plus it seems silly to have a largish kitchen item that I’m only going to use once per year (although by that token, I wouldn’t have a cookie press, either), and it feels redundant to now possess four different machines for pureeing food (although unlike the blender, small food processor, and immersion blender, the food mill has the obvious advantage of straining out peels and seeds). Ideally, I’ll find a few more uses for the food mill (I could have used it on the pear butter, for starters), but even if I only ever use it for my annual batch of apple butter, it'll earn its keep admirably.

By the way, this is officially my last canning project until 2010 (sigh), both because I need to concentrate on holiday baking and because all those little glass jars are threatening to take over the apartment.

4 pounds good cooking apples (e.g., Granny Smith or Gravenstein; I used Fuji)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
2 cups water
Sugar (about 4 cups; see cooking instructions)
Salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon allspice
Grated rind and juice of 1 lemon

1. Prepare jars and closures as in steps 1-2 here.

2. Cut the apples into quarters, without peeling or coring them (much of the pectin is in the cores and flavor in the peels), and cut out any damaged parts.

3. Put the apples into a large pot, add the vinegar and water, cover, bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer, and cook until apples are soft, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat.

4. Ladle apple mixture into a chinois sieve or food mill and force pulp through the sieve or mill into a large bowl below. Measure resulting puree. Add ½ cup sugar for each cup of apple pulp. Stir to dissolve sugar. Add a dash of salt, and the cinnamon, ground cloves, allspice, lemon rind, and lemon juice. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

5. Cook uncovered in a large, wide, thick-bottomed pot on medium-low heat, stirring every 5 minutes to prevent burning. Cook 1 to 2 hours, until thick and smooth when a bit is spooned onto a cold plate and allowed to cool.

6. Fill jars and process for 10 minutes, as in steps 7-9 here.

Yield: 14-16 4-ounce jars
Time: 4 hours
Leftover potential: Yes!

MINNESOTA BRIE AND APPLE SOUP

Sure, it doesn’t look like much, but that’s partly my fault for failing to garnish with apple slices and rosemary sprigs as directed, and not having any white pepper on hand instead of those big honking black specks you see. Anyway, who cares what it looks like when it tastes like apples and Brie?

Will you be surprised when I inform you that this soup is fabulous? Thank you, parents, for The St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook, and thank you, St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook, for including this recipe for one of the Dakota Jazz Club and Restaurant’s trademark dishes, and thank you, (former) executive chef Ken Goff, for creating it in the first place.

I had a few quibbles with the recipe—for one, it called for three cups of heavy cream, which is insane, considering we’re already using half a stick of butter and half a pound of Brie. The chef’s parenthetical notes grudgingly suggested I could substitute half and half or whole milk if I also used four potatoes instead of three. I went a step further down the ladder and used 1% milk, and it’s still the creamiest soup in Creamyland. I’m not even including the option for cream in my version of the recipe. Use milk and live longer, the better to enjoy more Brie and apple soup.

Also, the original recipe asked for just “4 small potatoes,” which is maddeningly unspecific. When I think “small potatoes,” I think teeny-tiny one-bite baby red potatoes, but I don’t think that’s what Goff meant. I used four smallish Russet potatoes, and that seemed about right. Just use enough potato slices to fit in the pan with the three cups of milk, but not so many that the milk doesn’t cover them. And speaking of that, Goff also became vague about cooking the potatoes in the milk, failing to give any guidance beyond “combine and cook slowly”—does that mean low heat? Medium? Can I blame this vagueness for the fact that the milk burned like hell onto the bottom of my (granted, not very high-quality or “thick-bottomed” pan)? Sadly, I think not. I hate any recipe that requires me to boil milk; I’m terrible at it, and burning inevitably ensues. It didn’t affect the taste of the soup at all, but it will affect my arm tonight when I try to scrape off the layers of char. Anyway, I’ve tried to clarify the directions below, but maybe you don’t want to listen to the woman who always burns the milk.

Finally, I’ve switched the steps around for maximum efficiency. The way the recipe was originally organized, I didn’t start cooking the potatoes and milk until after I’d added the chicken broth to the onions and apples. I figured: hey, 15 minutes for the onions and apples, 12 minutes for the potatoes and milk—that should time out pretty well! I had neglected to take into account the time it took for the refrigerator-cold milk to even heat up to a simmer, and thus the 12-minute clock didn’t even start running until well after the onions and apples were soft (I just turned the heat down to the lowest setting and kept cooking the onion/apple mixture until the potatoes were ready, and it was all fine, but it took a lot longer than it should have). So even though my directions sound complicated, making you jump back and forth between the two pots, it’s quicker this way, trust me.

Besides these minor frustrations, this wasn’t a hard recipe to make (as usual, the immersion blender helped immeasurably), and it turned out amazingly. Too rich and sweet to eat in great quantity, but so creamy and luxurious and with a great oniony, herby undertone. Unique and sophisticated, and thus perfect for serving to others so you can amaze them with your fancy-pantsness. But not too pretentious for just a simple Sunday night at home like ours, where we ate it with fresh dill bread (recipe to follow) and bitter green salads dressed with lemon vinaigrette (my favorite salad dressing ever: juice of one lemon, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, coarse salt, freshly ground pepper, shake well) while watching The Amazing Race.

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup yellow onion, chopped
¼ cup sliced leeks (white part only)
4 large tart apples (I used Granny Smith), peeled and quartered
2 cups chicken broth
1 sprig fresh rosemary, about 1½ inches long
¼ teaspoon dried thyme
1 small bay leaf
1½ teaspoons salt
3 cups milk
4 small Russet potatoes, peeled and sliced ⅛ inch thick
8 ounces Brie cheese, rind removed, cut into pieces
salt and ground pepper to taste

1. In a soup pot with a heavy bottom, melt the butter over medium-high heat until it foams. Add the onion, leek, and apple. Stir to coat them, then reduce heat to medium and cook until onions are softened, about 8 minutes.

2. While onions are cooking, combine the milk and potatoes in a separate heavy-bottomed saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, reduce to medium-low, and cook slowly, stirring frequently, until the potatoes are tender, about 12 minutes.

3. When onions are softened in the first pot, add the chicken broth, rosemary, thyme, bay leaf, and 1½ teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the vegetables are tender, about 15 minutes.

4. When potatoes are tender, add them to the pot with the onions and apples. Puree in batches in a blender (or use an immersion blender in the pot), adding pieces of Brie gradually while blending just long enough to incorporate. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour

APPLE CRISP

This is one of only two desserts I ever make. (I’m not really a desserty person; most of the time I’d rather have a piece of chocolate than a slice of cake or a cookie.) The other is caramel-chocolate-oatmeal bars, which I am only allowed to make on very special occasions because I am capable of eating the entire pan. Apple crisp is never as tempting or decadent for me, just a homey and wholesome old-fashioned kind of treat. In fact, I come to it relatively recently, having taken many years to get over my aversion to the texture of cooked fruit. I never crave it or gorge myself on apple crisp, but every now and then I make it and it’s good. If I dared to serve it with vanilla ice cream, it might become a vice.

This recipe is from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. It’s very easy. It claims you can substitute (with some adjustments) pears, peaches, blueberries, or cherries for the apples, but I’ve never tried this. If I do, I’ll let you know.

*Postscript: I later tried this recipe with home-canned peaches in place of the apples (eliminating the white sugar, since the peaches were already in a sugar syrup). It was squishy but great.

5 cups sliced, peeled apples
2 tablespoons granulated (white) sugar
½ cup regular rolled oats
½ cup packed brown sugar
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg, ginger, or cinnamon
¼ cup butter
¼ cup chopped nuts or coconut

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

2. Peel the apples, cut them into fourths, cut off the core, and slice the flesh. Put the slices in a 2-quart square Pyrex baking dish. Stir in the granulated sugar.

3. In a medium bowl, combine the oats, brown sugar, flour, and spice (I use half nutmeg, half cinnamon). Cut in the butter—which, as near as I can tell, involves putting the chunk of butter in the bowl and using a knife or fork to break the butter into little bits, mixing the bits with the dry ingredients until the mixture “resembles coarse crumbs.” (Don’t worry too much about your technique here—I’ve never been too clear on how to do this, but my apple crisp turns out just fine.) Stir in chopped nuts or coconut and sprinkle the mixture over the apples.

4. Bake the apple crisp for 30-35 minutes, until the apples are tender and the topping is browned.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes

BAKED BUTTERNUT SQUASH WITH SAUSAGE AND APPLES

Even though it’s been 90 to 100 degrees every day, my Minnesotan body clock is still a-tickin’, and it craves fall foods—roasted chicken, gratins, casseroles, stews. And when I saw butternut squash appear at the farmers’ market, I was bound and determined to try this new recipe (from a cookbook I got from the library recently—possibly The New Joy of Cooking?) despite its weather-inappropriateness. Hey, September is September, right? So last night I opened all the windows, turned on all the fans, fired up the oven, and baked some squash. At least it was dark outside, and A Perfect Storm was on TV, and by watching cold, wet people battle the elements I could imagine the kitchen as a warm (really warm), cozy haven. And the food? Was good. As I imagined, the flavors were perfect together. I have not historically been a squash lover (not since I was a toddler smearing it all over my face, anyway), but I’m coming around thanks to a few good butternut squash recipes, a list to which I’ll add this one. It took a while to make, but most of that was baking time—the prep wasn’t too onerous. The dish was almost on the verge of being too sweet, I thought (A disagrees, but then he has a sweeter tooth than I), but I had a green salad with it and that balanced things out nicely. I’ll definitely make this again…but I’ll wait for colder weather first.

2 smallish butternut squash, about 1 pound each (butternuts are the ones that look like giant peanuts--that's how I always remember it, anyway)
olive oil
1 cup well-seasoned sausage (about 8 ounces)
1 large, tart green apple, peeled, cored, and cut into ¼-inch cubes
3 tablespoons butter, softened
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground sage (I actually used dried sage leaves, which worked just fine)

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees and brush a little olive oil over the inside of a 9x13 baking dish.

2. If your squash are too tall to lay in the baking dish, slice the top (the stem part) off of each one as needed. Halve the squash lengthwise, and scoop out the seeds and the gross, pumpkin-smelling stringy parts (discard these). Arrange the four halves, cut side up, in the baking dish (mine just barely fit, but I was able to get them in like puzzle pieces, the narrow end of one next to the wide end of the other) and brush them lightly with oil. Cover the dish with tinfoil and put it in the oven to bake “until almost tender,” 30-40 minutes. (For me it was more like 40-45 minutes; at 30 minutes the flesh was still too hard to scoop out with a spoon.) When it's done, take it out of the oven and set it aside to cool slightly. Make sure to leave the oven on for later.

3. While the squash is baking, put a skillet on the stove over medium heat. If you're using whole sausages with casings (as opposed to ground sausage), remove the casings. Add the sausage to the skillet. Unless your sausage is already described as "hot," I'd recommend adding a pinch each of red pepper flakes and fennel while it's cooking. Break the sausage up with a spoon into little bits while it browns. When all the pink is gone, add the chopped apple and cook, stirring, for several minutes until it's crisp-tender, then remove the skillet from the heat.

4. Scoop most of the flesh out of the squash; the recipe instructs to leave “three-eighths-inch-thick shells.” Lightly mix the squash pulp into the sausage mixture, along with 2 tablespoons of butter, 1 tablespoon of brown sugar, the sage, and salt and pepper to taste. Then pile the stuffing into the squash shells, dot with the remaining butter and brown sugar, and bake until the tops are brown and crusty, 20-25 minutes.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours (but mostly baking time)