SUMMER LASAGNA

I don’t think I’ll make this recipe again, but I couldn’t resist sharing it because it’s so pretty, even with my sloppy construction and poorly lit photography. And maybe someone else will enjoy it more; after all, we didn’t hate it, just found it a bit bland. (It’s also hard to eat, even more slippery than normal lasagna—it deconstructs itself as soon as you put a fork into it.) But layering noodles with cheese and vegetables right on the plate for a refreshing no-bake lasagna (yes, my oven is still broken) is such a clever idea that I’m sure someone with more improvisational skills could adapt it into something amazing. I did make a few additions in an effort to punch up the flavor, and I’m glad I did, because otherwise it would have been totally boring.

The original recipe is from Martha Stewart, but I spotted a link to an adaptation of it in a roundup of summery lasagna recipes at The Kitchn. The adapted version made a few changes to Martha’s recipe, most notably increasing the quantity of the cheeses and basil, which I of course was on board with. Also included in the roundup was this recipe from Rachael Ray, which wasn’t as useful to me because it doesn’t involve noodles (I was looking to get rid of a half-boxful that had been haunting my cupboard for ages), but it did captivate me with its addition of lemon to the ricotta, making it similar to this tasty sandwich recipe in my archives. Further inspired by that sandwich, I decided to add my basil to the ricotta filling as well, rather than just sprinkling it around the finished lasagna. (I also did away with the 2 teaspoons of olive oil in the ricotta—it seemed unnecessary.) And while cooking, I decided to throw some red pepper flakes into the tomatoes to add a little spice.

I was a bit perplexed by how to build the actual lasagna. Martha calls for the noodles to be cut in half, which I did, but that makes them more like long rectangles than the squares shown in the photos, and I ended up trimming the ends off them so they would fit on my plates and not make gigantic servings (they still ended up being generous portions). I noticed that the adapted version has the noodles cut into thirds, which makes more sense, but it still calls for the same total number as Martha does, without explaining what to do with the extras. (If you cut your noodles into thirds, you’d really only need to cook six of them instead of eight, yielding 18 noodle pieces of which you’d use 16, four per serving.) And then since cherry tomatoes are involved, my layers didn’t lay flat, but got all lumpy. The photos at the other sites are a lot prettier than my finished product, but they look like they only contain a fraction of the total filling—a few zucchini slices and tomatoes scattered on each layer. I didn’t want to throw food away, so I ended up with askew, teeteringly high piles. I don’t like recipes that have you cook a bunch of food and not use all of it.

This is an elegant presentation for a summer pasta, but unfortunately it’s more interesting to look at than to eat. Once you bite in and the layers slide every which way (you may want to serve this in shallow bowls rather than on plates), it quickly becomes just tepid noodles, tomatoes, and zucchini in a creamy (but at least lemony, thanks to Rachael Ray) sauce—not unpleasant, but nothing too special. Next time I have noodles to use up, I’ll try stovetop lasagna or lasagna rollups instead.

The chaos!

1 cup ricotta
¼ cup grated Parmesan
Zest of one lemon
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
8 lasagna noodles, broken in half crosswise
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 minced garlic clove
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 pints cherry tomatoes, halved
2 medium zucchini (about 1 pound total), halved and thinly sliced into half-moons
½ cup torn basil leaves

1. In a medium bowl, combine ricotta, Parmesan, lemon zest and juice, basil, and salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

2. Cook lasagna noodles according to package directions and drain.

3. Meanwhile, heat 2 tablespoons oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add garlic, red pepper flakes, and tomatoes. Cook until slightly broken down, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a bowl.

3. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil to the same skillet and when it is heated, add zucchini. Season with salt and pepper and cook about 5 minutes or until tender.

4. Scatter a few tomatoes over four plates. Top with one noodle, a spoonful of ricotta mixture, zucchini, and more tomatoes. Repeat layering twice, then finish with one more noodle and the remaining tomatoes. Serve, garnishing with more basil if desired.

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

FARMERS’ MARKET POTATO SALAD

I…think I like this salad?

I’m not a potato salad fan, but I seem to have a continuing fascination with the non-mayo-based varieties. Mostly, I was entranced by the colorful photo accompanying this recipe in Cooking Light with its bounty of summer vegetables, particularly the holy trinity of corn, tomatoes, and zucchini. Even better, it’s a warm salad (I have a weird aversion to cold food sometimes); the potatoes are roasted until crisp and brown. So is the corn, which I was skeptical about at first (30 minutes? But corn kernels are so tiny!), and indeed the corn gets quite worryingly browned, but that actually makes it taste even better (as I discovered when I found myself compulsively snacking on the seemingly burnt corn detritus left behind on the baking sheet). However, the dressing: it really tested my growing tolerance for mustard (2 tablespoons is a lot), and I think there’s a reason that I hardly ever use tarragon—its licorice taste was strongly present here. So, on the plus side, this is a beautiful, healthy, fresh salad bursting with tasty vegetables and strong flavors…but I’m not sure I necessarily loved those flavors. A was enthusiastic, though, and the online reviews are all great so far, and I like that this is light enough for a side dish (we had it with prosciutto-and-basil-wrapped chicken, my go-to accompaniment for labor-intensive or unproven salads) but substantial enough for a vegetarian main, so I’ll probably make it again. I am tempted to cut back on the mustard slightly or swap in parsley or rosemary for the tarragon, but maybe that would be messing too much with what gives this salad its zest and zip. Is it time for me to learn to stop worrying and love tarragon?

1 cup fresh corn kernels (about 2 ears)
2 pounds fingerling potatoes (use a mix of red, purple, and yellow for maximum effect), cut into 1-inch pieces
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons whole-grain Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon hot pepper sauce (such as Tabasco)
¾ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¾ cup sliced red onion
¾ cup diced zucchini
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Place corn and potatoes on a rimmed baking sheet (for easy cleanup—the corn tends to stick—I recommend coating the baking sheet with parchment or foil), drizzle with 1 tablespoon oil, and toss to coat. Bake for 30 minutes or until potatoes are tender.

3. Meanwhile, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Coat pan with ½ tablespoon olive oil. Add onion and zucchini and cook 4 minutes or until lightly browned, stirring occasionally.

4. Combine tarragon and next 5 ingredients (through pepper) in a small bowl, stirring with a whisk. Gradually add 1½ tablespoons oil, stirring constantly with a whisk.

5. Place potatoes and corn in a large bowl and drizzle with dressing while still warm; toss gently to coat. Add zucchini mixture and tomatoes and toss gently to combine.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: OK; can be eaten warm, at room temperature, or chilled

CHEDDAR-CHIVE QUICKBREAD

Remind me to stop trying non-sweet quickbreads. I just don’t like them that much. Cornbread? Soda bread? Scones? Bah humbug.

After the delicious Dill Bread, I got cocky. I craved more savory, herby homemade breads, but I didn’t want to have to work so hard. So I got lured into this recipe, which promises plenty of cheese and ease. It has a fine pedigree from the inimitable Dorie Greenspan, the user reviews are glowing, and with no yeast, “It takes less than 10 minutes to put together, requires no special equipment, and really takes no special skill.” Bingo!

It certainly turned out a gorgeous loaf (it helps that I made it during the day and got to photograph my food during full sunlight, for once). And it didn’t taste bad or anything, but it didn’t taste how I expected—in fact, it didn’t really taste that strongly of chives or cheese. Everyone who tasted it (me, A, P) agreed that it seemed as though something were missing. I tried eating it with butter, even a sprinkling of salt, but the slightly flat flavor stubbornly remained. P described it as “eggy.” I wonder if maybe I should have used medium cheddar instead of sharp. A wanted a more flavorful herb. And to be fair, Greenspan suggests that you play around with the recipe however you like, using any hard cheese that suits your fancy, varying the herbs however you like, or including add-ins like ham or nuts or vegetables. I appreciate this versatility, and I’m sure I could keep trying this until I found a flavor I liked.

The texture of the bread was also unusual; Greenspan describes it as a “savory cake,” and indeed, it felt oddly like cake in the mouth. Again, this isn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t what I expected. It had a little of the dry crumbliness I don’t like about cornbread.

I still have half a loaf left, and I’m looking forward to trying it lightly toasted, as Greenspan suggests—that might really make the difference for me, as I love toast far more than “raw” bread. And I really can’t blame this recipe for differing from my expectations. I’d still recommend it, since it was just as quick and easy and reliable as promised, and you can flavor it however you want. But it wasn’t what I was craving, and with so many other delicious-looking bread recipes out there clamoring for my attention, I probably won’t be making it again. I think what I’m looking for is a yeast bread, and I should resist being tempted by shortcuts.

Still, that photo is awfully appealing, if I do say so myself.

1¾ cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ to 1 teaspoon salt (depending on what add-ins you’re using; I used the full 1 teaspoon for the basic cheddar-chive combo)
¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/3 cup milk, at room temperature
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 ounces coarsely grated cheddar or other cheese
2 ounces cheddar or other cheese, cut into very small cubes
½ cup minced chives or other herbs

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and generously butter a loaf pan.

2. Put the flour, baking powder, salt, and pepper in a large mixing bowl and whisk to combine.

3. Put the eggs in another mixing bowl and whisk for 1 minute, until foamy and blended. Whisk in milk and olive oil.

4. Pour the wet ingredients over the dry ones and gently mix with a wooden spoon or sturdy rubber spatula until dough comes together. Because beating the dough makes it tougher, there’s no need to be too thorough or energetic—just mix until all the dry ingredients are moistened. Stir in the cheese, the herbs, and any other add-ins you’re using. Turn the dough into the buttered loaf pan and even the top with the back of the spatula or spoon.

5. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the bread is golden and a slender knife inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Transfer the pan to a cooling rack, wait about 3 minutes, and then run a knife around the sides of the bread and turn the loaf over onto the rack. Invert to right-side up and cool to room temperature. The bread can be served slightly warm, but it’s better when fully cool, and best when given some time to “ripen”—wait a few hours or overnight to serve.

Serves: 8
Time: 1 hour

OATMEAL KNOTS

Sorry, this is a crazy photo. The season finale of Amazing Race was starting, and I’d inadvertently set my camera to some crazy manual-focus setting that made the foreground blurry and the background clear.

This recipe is from a recent issue of Cooking Light. It was a bit frustrating to make, because my dough turned out super-sticky, even after I added well over ½ cup of extra flour during the kneading process (which was really more like the “desperately peeling dough off the counter” process). I had to laugh bitterly at the “to prevent dough from sticking to hands” instruction in step 3—my dough was sticking to hands, bowl, counters, everything. Shaping it in step 5 was kind of a joke; as you can see, my “knots” look pretty much like smooth, round rolls. But just when I was on the verge of despair, I bit into a roll fresh from the oven and it tasted great. Sort of like my beloved Bumpy Rolls, but sweeter, and with the added wholesomeness of oatmeal and flax meal, plus sesame and poppy seeds, which I love. Although the original recipe didn’t call for it, I ground a little coarse salt on top of each roll, and I’m so glad I did—it contrasted nicely with the sweetness—that I’ve added it to the directions below.

Would I make these again, considering what a pain they were? I’d like to try at least once more, to see if I can make the dough more workable—I know something containing that much oatmeal and honey is bound to be a bit sticky, but mine seemed way goopier than what the recipe was expecting. I also think I’d skip the whole dividing-and-tying-into-knots step, which was mainly cosmetic, and make them into cloverleafs in a muffin tin, as with Bumpy Rolls. I’ll keep you posted.

Postscript, December 2009: Not worth it. I don't bake a lot of bread, so when I do, I want Bumpy Rolls. Maybe I can just throw some seeds on top of those sometime.

1 cup regular oats
½ cup honey
2 tablespoons butter
1½ tablespoons salt
2 cups boiling water
1 package dry yeast (about 2¼ teaspoons)
1/3 cup warm water (100 to 110 degrees Fahrenheit)
¼ cup flaxseed meal
3 cups whole wheat flour (about 14¼ ounces)
1½ cups all-purpose flour (about 6¾ ounces), divided
olive oil or cooking spray
1 large egg
1 tablespoon regular oats
1 tablespoon poppy seeds
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
coarse salt

1. Combine the first four ingredients in a large bowl and add 2 cups boiling water, stirring until well blended. Let cool to room temperature.

2. Dissolve yeast in 1/3 cup warm water in a small bowl; let stand 5 minutes. Add yeast mixture to oat mixture and stir well. Stir in flaxseed meal.

3. Measure flours by lightly spooning into dry measuring cups and leveling with a knife. Gradually add 3 cups whole wheat flour and 1 cup all-purpose flour to oat mixture, and stir until a soft dough forms. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, about 8 minutes, adding enough of remaining all-purpose flour, 1 tablespoon at a time, to prevent dough from sticking to hands (dough should still feel tacky, however).

4. Place dough in a large bowl coated with olive oil or cooking spray, turning to coat. Cover and let rise in a warm place (about 85 degrees Fahrenheit), free from drafts, 1 hour or until doubled in size. (Press two fingers into the dough; if indentation remains, the dough has risen enough.) Punch the dough down and let rest for 5 minutes.

5. Divide dough in half, then cut each half into 12 equal portions. Working with one portion at a time (cover remaining dough to keep it from drying out), shape each portion into an 8-inch rope. Tie each rope into a single knot and tuck top end of rope under bottom edge of roll. Place rolls on baking sheets coated with olive oil or cooking spray. Cover with plastic wrap coated with olive oil or cooking spray (or use a damp disk towel), and let rise on a warm place for 30 minutes or until doubled in size.

6. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

7. Combine egg with 1 teaspoon water in a small bowl, and brush egg wash over rolls. Combine 1 tablespoon oats, poppy seeds, and sesame seeds in a small bowl and sprinkle evenly over rolls. Sprinkle a little coarse salt over rolls. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, or until golden. Cool on wire racks.

Yield: 24 rolls
Time: 2½ to 3 hours

ALMOND-CRUSTED SALMON

(shown with Herbed Basmati Rice and Roasted Asparagus)

Thanks to Cooking Light, here’s another recipe to help use up my big bag of almond meal. Even though it wasn’t crazy-unique stop-the-presses good, it was easy and tasty enough to warrant recommendation to you. I’m not a completely enthusiastic fish eater, so I usually like my salmon more aggressively seasoned—with pesto, for example—but the simple flavors in this recipe were pleasant. (I’m not sure it lived up to the tempting promise of “toasted flavor reminiscent of browned butter” in the recipe description, however…toasted almonds, maybe.) The texture of the coating was the most appealing element to me, uniformly crisp and a great contrast with the tender fish within.

In my usual anxiety about trying new recipes (after all, what if it’s bland and we hate it and we starve to death?), I went hog-wild and served the salmon with a whopping two side dishes—another new Cooking Light recipe, Herbed Basmati Rice, plus the old standby of roasted asparagus. (I know, I know, asparagus is most definitely not in season. I’ll admit I bought it from the stoners at the farmers’ market who grow it year-round in a greenhouse, no doubt as camouflage for their massive marijuana-plant operation. But it’s good quality, and locally produced, so that counts for something, right?) Gone are the days when I plopped a one-dish meal onto the table every night—does that mean I’m finally becoming an adult? It means I’m a genius, anyway, because the three dishes in this scarily grown-up meal complemented one another perfectly, so that even though the salmon and the rice weren’t taste revelations, they added up to a dinner that was, as A put it, “more than the sum of its parts.” And quite healthy, to boot. I win again!

Postscript, December 2009: Yet I've never made this recipe again. I guess it's the dreaded "Not Favorites" label for you, Almond-Crusted Salmon!

¼ cup almond meal
¼ cup panko
¼ teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon ground cumin
4 (6-ounce) salmon fillets, about 1 inch thick, with skin on
2 teaspoons lemon juice
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
olive oil or cooking spray
4 lemon wedges, for garnish


1. Preheat oven to 500 degrees.

2. Combine almond meal, panko, coriander, and cumin in a shallow dish and set aside.

3. Brush tops and side of fish with lemon juice and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Working with one fillet at a time, dredge top and sides with almond mixture and place skin side down on a broiler pan coated with cooking spray (I used a baking sheet covered in tin foil and lightly coated with olive oil. When all four fillets are coated, sprinkle any remaining crumb mixture evenly over fish, pressing gently to adhere.

4. Bake for 15 minutes or until fish flakes easily when tested with a fork. Serve with lemon wedges.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes

HERBED BASMATI RICE

(shown with Almond-Crusted Salmon and Roasted Asparagus)

I’m not a huge rice fan, and consequently, I’m not very good at making it. If you want underdone rice that sticks to the bottom of the pot, I’m your woman. But I do enjoy the nutty taste and less starchy texture of basmati rice, and this recipe intrigued me with its flavorful additions (garlic, chicken broth, pine nuts, green onions, herbs, and cheese) and different cooking method (the rice is sauteed in a skillet instead of being boiled in a saucepan, which helps it cook faster and seems as though it would solve my sticking-to-the-pan problem. So I made it as an accompaniment to Almond-Crusted Salmon, and it turned out to be the best rice I’ve ever made (though considering how rarely I make rice, this isn’t so much of an achievement). I still had some of the underdone/pan-sticking problem (the liquid always seems to disappear to early—what’s my problem? Does the lid not fit tightly enough, or am I stirring the rice prematurely?), but it was fluffy and tasted good. White rice usually seems boring to me except as a backdrop for Thai or Chinese or Indian food, but the extra ingredients here added plenty of interest. It was easy to make, and most importantly, it went perfectly with the salmon. I might not be rushing out to make this over and over again, but I would wholeheartedly serve this particular combination again.

Postscript, December 2009: ...But I haven't. Just don't like rice enough, it turns out. This may be my favorite rice recipe, but since it's not in my regular rotation, it's consigned to "Not Favorites."

¼ cup pine nuts
1 teaspoon olive oil, or to taste
1 cup uncooked basmati rice
1 clove garlic, minced
1 cup water
1 cup chicken broth
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ cup green onions
3 tablespoons grated fresh Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1. Toast pine nuts in a medium skillet over medium heat. Remove pine nuts and set aside.

2. In the same skillet, heat olive oil (I might have used more like 2 teaspoons) over medium-high heat. Add rice and garlic to the pan and sauté 2 minutes or until rice is lightly toasted. Add water, broth, and salt to pan, and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 15 minutes or until liquid is absorbed and rice is tender.

3. Remove from heat; let stand 5 minutes. Stir in onions, pine nuts, Parmesan, basil, thyme, and pepper.

Serves: 6
Time: 30 minutes

COLESLAW FOR COLESLAW HATERS

I was a bit resentful that my very first CSA delivery contained cabbage, but mollified by the fact that the CSA newsletter contained this palatable-sounding recipe for it. I made it on Sunday night, along with meatloaf and slow-cooked carrots, and it was…not bad. I’m not saying I’m going to actually intentionally buy cabbages to make this again in the future, but if cabbages appear on my doorstep or I have to cook a summery picnic meal for a group of coleslaw fans, this is certainly the recipe I would turn to. It didn’t taste like cabbage, and it wasn’t drowning in mayonnaise (ew, mayonnaise); in fact, it seemed more like a fresh shredded cabbage-and-veggie salad with a lightly creamy sweet-and-sour dressing, a far cry from that drippy white stuff I think of as coleslaw. But while I might have eaten my Sunday-night serving with grudging admiration, and A claimed to heartily enjoy it as well, the leftovers still sit uneaten in our fridge. We coleslaw-hating leopards can’t change our spots overnight, you know.

1 small head green cabbage, shredded (about 6 cups)
1 large carrot, grated (about 1 cup)
½ cup green onions, chopped (green parts only)
¼ cup minced fresh chives
¼ cup buttermilk
2–3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1½ tablespoons canola oil
1 teaspoon (or to taste) dry mustard powder
1–2 teaspoons honey
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Toss the cabbage, carrots, green onions, and chives in a large bowl.

2. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together all remaining ingredients. Pour this dressing over the cabbage mixture and stir well.

3. Allow salad to rest for at least 2 hours to allow the flavors to blend.

Serves: 6–8
Time: 15 minutes (plus 2 hours for flavors to blend)

BANANA-NUT MUFFINS

I had 4 ounces of leftover cream cheese sitting in my refrigerator (after making Tortellini With Mushroom-Cheese Sauce a couple of weeks ago), and I needed something to go with the curried coconut vegetable soup I was planning to make for dinner, so on Sunday afternoon I figured I’d whip up a half-recipe of these muffins.

I got the recipe from P (along with a delicious sample of the finished product) a few months ago; she got it, I think, from AllRecipes.com. The first time I made it, the muffins tasted OK, but were flat and ugly and misshapen. This time, they were high and fluffy and golden and perfect. I don’t know what made the difference, but they turned out well enough now for me to recommend the recipe. Nothing fancy here, flavor-wise, just banana, pecans, and cinnamon (the quantity of cinnamon perpetually surprises me—a tablespoon seems like an awful lot—but it tastes good). The only novelty is that the cinnamon, nuts, and brown sugar are placed in a thin layer in the middle of the banana muffin, which is kind of visually cool, reminiscent of geologic formations. But the point is: yum.

Postscript, December 2009: I never made these again. I rarely make banana muffins anyway, and for those rare times when I do, I think I like these better.

½ cup unsalted butter
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1¼ cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 cup mashed bananas (about 2)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2¼ cups all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons baking powder
1½ teaspoons baking soda
¾ cup chopped pecans
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly butter 2 muffin tins.

2. In a small bowl, mix together chopped pecans, brown sugar, and cinnamon.

3. Cream butter and cream cheese together. Gradually add white sugar and continue beating until light and fluffy. Add one egg at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in mashed bananas and vanilla. Add flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Mix until batter is just moist.

4. Fill muffin cups just one-third full. Sprinkle pecan mixture over batter and top with remaining batter.

5. Bake until tops of muffins are just golden and an inserted knife comes out clean, about 10–15 minutes.

Yield: 2 dozen
Time: 30 minutes

QUICK GREEN BEAN “CASSEROLE”

For someone who thinks America’s Test Kitchen is too fussy, why am I posting two recipes from them in one week? Well, I have to admit those people do good work. I ripped a page on “Skillet Green Beans” out of a Cook’s Magazine I found in the lunchroom at work, and when I saw this updated take on what we Minnesotans call “green bean hot dish,” I had to try it. So I made a half-recipe on Monday night, as a side dish for Chicken Scaloppine With Parmesan. Verdict: I wouldn’t call it “quick,” exactly; it’s quicker than baking a casserole, I guess, but not something I see myself whipping up at the drop of a hat after a long day. It’s not difficult to make—the fact that it uses only one skillet is nice—but complicated enough that I found it challenging to make it while also trying to do a main dish (even one of my simpler chicken dish). The recipe just requires a little too much constant attention—there are no “let simmer for 30 minutes” steps where you can walk away and do something else. In the future, maybe I’d try some sort of baked chicken for the entrée, so it can cook while I devote my full concentration to the green beans. Because I would definitely make this again—it tastes great! Surprisingly like the real thing, and yet way better than the canned soup, canned green beans, and weird canned french-fried onions. I don’t think I got my shallots fried crisply enough (I suspect I got impatient and started before the oil was fully hot), but still? Very yummy, and it did pair nicely with the chicken. I was also thinking it might be possible to serve this over noodles as a main dish, if you had maybe just a little more sauce. Hmm, I’ll experiment and get back to you.

Postscript, December 2009: Meh, not worth it. I never made it again.

3 large shallots, sliced thin (about 1 cup)
Salt and ground black pepper
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
5 tablespoons vegetable oil
10 ounces cremini (brown) mushrooms, stems discarded, caps wiped clean and sliced ¼ inch thick
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 medium onion, minced (about 1 cup)
2 medium garlic cloves, minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 2 teaspoons)
1½ pounds green beans, stem ends trimmed
3 sprigs fresh thyme (the recipe wants you to use whole sprigs and remove them later, but I just used the leaves and left them in)
2 bay leaves
¾ cup heavy cream
¾ cup low-sodium chicken broth

1. Toss shallots with ¼ teaspoon salt, 1/8 teaspoon pepper, and 2 tablespoons flour in small bowl; set aside. Heat 3 tablespoons oil in 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until smoking; add shallots and cook, stirring frequently, until golden and crisp, about 5 minutes. Transfer shallots with oil to baking sheet lined with triple layer of paper towels.

2. Wipe out skillet and return to medium-high heat. Add remaining 2 tablespoons oil, mushrooms, and ¼ teaspoon salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, about 8 minutes. Transfer to plate and set aside.

3. Wipe out skillet. Heat butter in skillet over medium heat; when foaming subsides, add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until edges begin to brown, about 2 minutes. Stir in garlic and remaining tablespoon of flour, then toss in green beans, thyme, and bay leaves. Add cream and chicken broth, increase heat to medium-high, cover, and cook until beans are partly tender but still crisp at center, about 4 minutes. Add mushrooms and continue to cook, uncovered, until green beans are tender and sauce has thickened slightly, about 4 minutes. Off heat, discard bay leaves and thyme sprigs (as I said, I didn’t use the whole sprigs, just the leaves, which I left in, because I like thyme). Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. Transfer to serving dish, sprinkle evenly with shallots, and serve.

Serves: 8 as a side dish
Time: 30 minutes

CLASSIC MAC & CHEESE

I love mac and cheese, though I have to admit my heart still belongs to the creamy, saucy, day-glo orange stuff (not Kraft, though—I used to love that stuff in high school and college, but now I think it’s grainy and gummy and doesn’t even taste particularly like cheese). This is real, traditional, homestyle macaroni and cheese, white and cheesy and a bit clumpy, and though it may not be quite what my inner child is crying out for, it’s very good. The recipe is from the folks at America’s Test Kitchen, via my pals the Ackermans, who contributed it to a compilation of favorite recipes we made for P and R’s wedding shower. Usually I avoid America’s Test Kitchen recipes—I like to watch the TV show and read Cook’s Magazine, and I admire their goal of finding absolutely the best recipe with scientific methods and high-quality ingredients, but…honestly, I don’t always need THE BEST of everything, just things I like. Sometimes their recipes are way too fussy. This one is a little tricky, what with making the white sauce and all, but not outlandish. Like many ATK recipes, it’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but it’s quite nice once in a while. I like it with mixed greens on the side.

I would not say I have perfected this recipe yet. I don’t have a Dutch oven or really heavy saucepan (I just use my normal pasta pot), so at the high heats called for by the recipe, the white sauce tends to burn to the bottom. If I stir it too aggressively, the burned bits get mixed into the sauce. Anyway, it’s an annoyance to clean the pan afterwards. I think I’ll try a nonstick pan next time and see if that helps…or someone can buy me a Dutch oven for Christmas?

On Sunday night (my second time making this recipe) I faced a new obstacle: my broiler is broken, so browning the bread crumbs in the last step was going to be a problem. I solved this by using panko bread crumbs instead, figuring that they were already dry and crisp, so even if they didn’t get as browned, they were less likely to be soggy. I just melted the 3 tablespoons of butter in the microwave and poured that over a reasonable-looking amount of panko in a medium bowl, mixed well, and spread it atop the macaroni and cheese. And you know, it worked really well—so well I might continue using panko even if my broiler ever gets fixed.

Postscript, December 2009: This may have been an acceptable recipe, but I left it in the dust as soon as I found this easier, cheesier, awesomer one.

6 slices white sandwich bread (good-quality, about 6 ounces), torn into rough pieces
3 tablespoons unsalted butter (cold), cut into 6 pieces
1 pound elbow macaroni
1 tablespoon salt
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons powdered mustard
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
5 cups milk
8 ounces Monterey Jack cheese, shredded (2 cups)
8 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded (2 cups)
1 teaspoon salt

1. For the bread crumbs: Pulse bread and 3 tablespoons butter in food processor until crumbs are no larger than 1/8 inch (10-15 1-second pulses). Alternatively, as the Ackermans note, you can break up the bread by hand, melt the butter in the microwave, and mix the two together a bowl. Or, as I mentioned above, you can use panko and mix with the melted butter.

2. For the pasta and cheese: Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and preheat broiler. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in a Dutch oven or heavy saucepan over high heat. Add macaroni and 1 tablespoon salt; cook until pasta is tender (just past the al dente stage; overcooking is better than undercooking in this recipe). Drain pasta and set aside in a colander.

3. In now-empty Dutch oven, heat remaining 5 tablespoons butter over medium-high heat until foaming. Add flour, mustard, and cayenne and whisk well to combine. Continue whisking until mixture becomes fragrant and deepens in color, about 1 minute. Gradually whisk in milk; bring mixture to boil, whisking constantly (mixture must reach full boil to fully thicken). Reduce heat to medium and simmer, whisking occasionally, until thickened to consistency of heavy cream, about 5 minutes. Off heat, whisk in cheeses and 1 teaspoon salt until cheese are fully melted. Add pasta and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until mixture is steaming and heated through, about 6 minutes.

4. Transfer mixture to broiler-safe 9x13 baking dish and sprinkle evenly with bread crumbs. Broil until crumbs are deep golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes, rotating pan if necessary for browning. Cool about 5 minutes, then serve.

Serves: 6 to 8, or 10 to 12 as a side dish
Time: 45 minutes to 1 hour

CHICKEN SOUP WITH ROASTED VEGETABLES

One of the first recipes I’ve tried from my new Cooking Light subscription. The delectable-looking photo lured me in, plus in the last year or so I’ve realized how totally awesome roasted vegetables (asparagus, green beans, broccoli) can be. And the soup was good, but maybe not quite as good as I was expecting. Basically, I felt like it was a lot of work to go through for something that wasn’t (in my opinion) as tasty as my usual chicken-noodle soup recipe, and wasn’t even as different from it in flavor as I’d hoped. A, on the other hand, thought it was as good, or possibly even slightly better. I can see where he’s coming from—it’s a darker, richer, more substantial soup. The variety of vegetables was nice, and the flavor did get nicely caramelized and intensified by the roasting. I’ll give it another shot, but with the following modifications: (a) More broth. The soup turned out way too stew-like for my taste, almost like a really wet pasta dish. (b) A mix of white and dark meat for the chicken. I just think chicken breast, even the nice free-range organic stuff I’ve been buying lately, is too bland and feels chewy and dry to me, even when it’s been boiled in broth. (c) Maybe egg noodles instead of the rotini; they’d blend in better, make the soup feel less chunky.

I think my disappointment in the soup was compounded by the fact that I made what sounded like a delicious brown-butter soda bread with rosemary and black pepper as an accompaniment (I’m not sure where the recipe was from—some magazine I picked up at work; Bon Appetit, maybe>?), and...it was OK, but I’m starting to think maybe I just don’t like soda bread that much. The recipes always sound good to me (and so temptingly easy), and then I make them and say, “eh.” Hence, I’ll refrain from posting that recipe. It wasn’t even an interesting enough failure to write about.

But anyway, back to the perfectly nice, wintery chicken soup, which was, in retrospect, pretty easy to make—it may require a lot of time, but the directions are very simple.

Postscript, December 2009: Look at me, trying to put a brave face on the disappointment, all "I'll make it again!" I never made it again. I have a perfectly satisfactory chicken-noodle soup recipe already.

1 cup chopped carrot (cut into 1-inch cubes)
1 cup chopped onion (cut into 1-inch cubes)
1 cup coarsely chopped mushrooms
1 cup chopped celery (cut into 1-inch pieces)
1 cup chopped red bell pepper (cut into 1-inch pieces)
1 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup water (maybe more?)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 (14-ounce) cans fat-free, low-sodium chicken broth, or 7 cups homemade chicken broth (maybe more?)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breast, cut into 1/2-inch pieces (maybe use 1/2 pound breast and 1/2 pound skinless, boneless chicken thighs, if you like dark meat)
2 cups uncooked rotini pasta (or possibly egg noodles)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Combine the carrot, onion, mushrooms, celery, and bell pepper on a large baking sheet or roasting pan, drizzle with oil, and stir well to coat. Bake for 50 minutes or until browned, stirring occasionally.

3. After vegetables have cooked for 20 minutes, combine water, rosemary, salt, chicken broth, and garlic in a large soup pot or Dutch oven. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer 30 minutes.

4. Add roasted vegetables to soup and simmer 30 minutes.

5. Bring soup to a boil; add pasta and simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serves: 6-8
Time: 1 and 1/2 hours

BAKED TOMATOES STUFFED WITH PESTO AND MOZZARELLA

OK, this is basically just a shell of tomato wrapped around a big hunk of melted basil-flavored cheese. But it's also delicious, another fine offering from Jack Bishop's Complete Italian Vegetarian Cookbook. As Jack says, "These tomatoes may be served as an all-in-one summer luncheon or a light dinner. Add a salad...to complete the meal." We did so, and some bread as well. Our tomatoes were somewhat on the small side, though (I couldn't even fit all the filling into them), so we each ended up eating two, which was a little overwhelmingly cheesy. (And we're avid cheese lovers, mind you.) So I'm thinking these might work better (one apiece) as a side dish with some chicken or something. However you serve them, they're simple and darned good--like warm bruschetta! Or...inside-out pizza? Something tasty, anyway.

Postscript, December 2009: Apparently, too cheesy to make it into the regular rotation. I never made these again.

4 large, ripe but firm tomatoes (about 2 pounds)
1/2 cup pesto, preferably homemade
5 ounces mozzarella cheese, shredded (about 1 and 1/4 cups)
1/3 cup plain fresh bread crumbs
salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Cut off and discard a 1/2-inch-thick slice from the top of each tomato, then use a small spoon to scoop out and discard the core and seeds, making sure to get rid of as much liquid as possible.

2. Mix together the pesto, cheese, bread crumbs, and salt and pepper in a small bowl. Use the small spoon to scoop some of the mixture into each tomato. Jack says, "[make] sure that the filling reaches into all the hollowed-out areas. Mound the filling a little above the top of each tomato and pat the filling gently to compact it." (Which I did, and which I think caused me overfill the tomatoes with cheese. I think I could have done with a little less filling, really, but would have to try again to be sure. Anyway, do whatever looks good to you.)

3. Place the tomatoes in a lightly greased baking dish just large enough to hold them (8x8), and bake until tomatoes are soft but not falling apart and cheese is bubbly and turning brown in spots, 25-30 minutes. Remove the tomatoes from the oven, let them cool for at least 15 minutes, then serve them. Jack says the tomatoes can be kept at room temperature for several hours, if you'd rather not serve them hot (I suppose that might be good in the summer).

Serves: 4 (or maybe 2 as a main dish, if your tomatoes are smallish)
Time: 1 hour

CUCUMBER RAITA

I hadn't made this recipe in eons, because I have several similar cucumber-yogurt-pita recipes that are a little jazzier: this one has seasoned beef, and another--hmm, perhaps I haven't made that one since starting this site--has an accompanying tomato-onion salad. But the thing was, we hadn't been to the farmers' market, so no nice fresh tomatoes for us. And I desperately wanted to make hummus, which, now that I'm no longer living the swingin' bachelor life, apparently does not constitute a meal in itself. Usually I pair hummus with fattoush, but...we had no tomatoes. So, I thought, cucumber salad! I can test the recipe and see whether I still need to keep it around! And it was pretty good, creamy and green with cucumber and herbs--would be especially nice and refreshing on a hot summer day. Granted, we didn't end up eating all the leftovers (I should have made a half recipe, for one thing), but I'm keeping the recipe around. I'm just a sucker for anything I can put in a pita, especially when it's this easy.

Postscript, December 2009: The beef version won out. Turns out I never really want just cucumber-yogurt sauce on its own, so this recipe is officially redundant.

1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
3 scallions, including greens, chopped
1/4 cup minced fresh chives
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 cup plain nonfat yogurt
2 large cucumbers, peeled, seeded, and minced
salt and pepper to taste

1. Combine all the ingredients in a large glass bowl.

2. Chill the salad for 3 hours (you can skip this if you want to eat it right away, though the flavors will blend more with time; be forewarned, it will separate if you let it sit for a while, but giving it a good stir fixes it up again).

3. Serve with pita bread. You could dip the bread in and use it to scoop up the salad, but I prefer to spoon the raita into the pockets of the bread.

Makes: 6 cups (at least 6 servings as a meal; more as a side dish or appetizer)
Time: 20-30 minutes (plus 3 hours chilling time if desired)

MEDITERRANEAN ZUCCHINI STUFFED WITH GARLIC AND PARSLEY

I wouldn't really describe this zucchini as "stuffed"--to me, stuffing implies some substantial material, like rice or ground beef or cheese, more or less inside another foodstuff. This is just garlic and parsley, and it isn't really inside the zucchini, it's laying in a sort of trough on top. Kids, this is basically just nicely seasoned whole zucchini. I've had the recipe for a while and when I lived alone I'd usually have it as an entree (with some bread and maybe cheese it's a decent vegetarian meal), but now that I've been seduced into the Cult of Occasional Meat-Preparing, it seems more like a side dish to me. It's not even fair to blame the meat-eating, because I'd still consider this stuffed zucchini an entree. But zucchini with garlic and parsley? Big green side dish. I think I served it with some grilled chicken when I made it recently (yeah, sorry, it was a few weeks ago and my memory is fading, don't judge me). It may be inaccurately named, but it does taste great; zucchini and garlic should just get married already, they go so well together.

8 small zucchini, about 4 inches long
5 plump garlic cloves, smashed and minced
2/3 cup minced fresh flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Trim the ends of the zucchini, then make a long 1/2-inch-deep and slightly angled cut into the top of each zucchini, running lengthwise from end to end. Make a second slightly angled slice 3/4 inch from the first to create a shallow cavity in the zucchini, so you're cutting out a more or less triangular wedge. Remove and discard the wedge. (This isn't an exact science; just do your best to make some kind of resting place for the parsley-garlic mixture. Most of the zucchini should still be intact, though--you're removing an eighth of it at most.)

2. In a small bowl, mix together the garlic, parsley, half of the oil, and generous amounts of salt and pepper. Distribute this mixture among the prepared zucchini, packing the stuffing well into the cavities.

3. Arrange the zucchini in a shallow baking dish just large enough to hold them (usually an 8x8 Pyrex dish works just fine), then drizzle them with the remaining 1/4 cup oil.

4. Bake until the zucchini are tender and stuffing is browning on top, about 15-20 minutes.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes

SESAME-CRUSTED SALMON TERIYAKI

This recipe had great potential, but it didn't quite deliver. It tasted good enough, though, and I think that once I perfect the execution, it could be great. I foolishly only marinated the salmon for an hour; the recipe asks for 1-6 hours, and although I prefer a longer marination, I didn't see any way I could marinate for 6 hours, considering I get home from work at 6:30 and don't care to eat dinner after midnight. I know, I know--why not do longer than 6 hours? Generally when I marinate things, I make the marinade the night before and let it marinate for 24 hours. But I do like to follow recipes to the letter the first time around, I'd never marinated fish before, and I worried that perhaps the fish would become goo or turn into a pumpkin or something if I marinated it longer. But sure enough, after an hour, I grilled the salmon and could taste only a hint of the marinade. What I did detect was promising, though. I'd only grilled one of my two fillets; A was at an audition and didn't get home until 10:00, so I left his salmon in the marinade until he was ready to eat. According to him, the 3 hours of marination yielded a decent amount of flavor (I wasn't able to verify this myself, having already brushed my teeth). So, next time I'm going to marinate the hell out of that fish and see what happens. I also wasn't able to find any mirin (rice wine) this time around, so I had to use the substitution ingredients of sugar and lemon. I'd be interested to see if the mirin adds more flavor.

Even with all these difficulties, the salmon still had a nice crunchy, sesame-y exterior (I do love sesame seeds) and a good (if faint) sweet-sour glaze. This is a different style than my other salmon recipes, as well as being a breeze to make, so I hope I can refine it to add a little more oomph.

NOTE: I did make this again a few weeks later. I marinated the fish for 24 hours and used a better-quality soy sauce (still no mirin, though), and it was great.

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup mirin (rice wine), or 1/4 cup sugar plus 1 tablespoon lemon juice
4 salmon steaks (I used fillets, actually), about 8 ounces each
1/2 cup sesame seeds
salt and pepper to taste

1. In a large Ziplock bag, combine the soy sauce with the mirin, or the sugar and lemon juice. Add the salmon, coating it well with the marinade, and seal the bag. Let it marinate in the refrigerator for 1-6 (or, in my experience, up to 24) hours.

2. When ready to cook, preheat your grill (I used a George Foreman; you can also, of course, use a normal grill, or your oven broiler with the rack in the top position). Remove the salmon from the bag and discard the marinade. Season the salmon with salt and pepper to taste, spread the sesame seeds on a plate, and coat both sides of the salmon with them, patting them down to help them adhere.

3. Grill the salmon until it's cooked through. (If you're using a regular grill, brush it with oil and then add the salmon; if you're using the broiler, set the salmon on a rack set in a baking pan. Either way, cook for about 6 minutes on each side.)

4. The recipe notes that this marinade works well with any fish steaks, including swordfish, halibut, and tuna.

Serves: 4
Time: 15 minutes, plus 1-24 hours marination

ZUCCHINI STUFFED WITH RICOTTA AND HERBS

Eek! I made this new recipe months ago, but somehow forgot to write it up. Now I’m afraid I don’t remember much of the experience, except that it was good enough for me to keep the recipe around. But then, how could it not be? I’m a great fan of foods stuffed into other foods, particularly when one of those foods is cheese. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing not to like here, and while the recipe requires some multitasking—cook zucchini, sauté onions, mix cheeses, fill, bake—it’s nothing too challenging. The recipe is from Jack Bishop’s Complete Italian Vegetarian Cookbook; he lists it as a main course, but mine, at least, turned out somewhat small, so we would have had to eat two each if that was all I served. Instead, we had it as a side dish with grilled chicken breasts. Jack suggests serving it with a tomato salad, which would be nice in the summer… Hmm, now that I’ve rediscovered this recipe, I’m going to have to make it again soon!

Postscript, December 2009: I'm not sure if that ever happened, but regardless, this didn't stand the test of time--I never make it nowadays, so it's moving to "Not Favorites."

4 medium-large zucchini (about 2 pounds total), scrubbed
salt
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, minced
2 medium garlic cloves, minced
1 cup ricotta cheese
¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino-Romano cheese
2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme or oregano
1 large egg, lightly beaten
freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons plain bread crumbs

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Bring several quarts of water to a boil in a large saucepan for cooking the zucchini. When the water boils, add the zucchini and salt to taste and simmer until the zucchini “offers just a little resistance when pierced with a skewer, about 6 minutes.” Drain the zucchini and let them cool to room temperature.

3. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. When it's hot, add the onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes, then stir in the garlic and sauté until golden, about 2 minutes. Remove this from the heat and set it aside.

4. When the zucchini are room-temperature (or cool enough to handle without burning your fingers, anyway), trim off the ends and slice the zucchini in half lengthwise. Use a spoon to scoop out the seeds and some of the flesh, taking care not to puncture the skin, leaving a hollowed-out shell about ½ inch thick.

5. Beat the egg in a large bowl and then add the ricotta and Parmesan or Romano-Pecorino (for the record, Jack “prefer[s] the sharper taste of the Pecorino with the mild ricotta,” but since I always have Parmesan in my friedge, I just use that), the herbs (I use oregano instead of thyme, because I think fresh oregano is one of the great unsung heroes of the herb world—though thyme’s fine, too), and pepper to taste. Stir in the onion mixture. Use a spoon to scoop the filling into the zucchini shells, dividing it evenly among the four of them.

6. Use the remaining 1 tablespoon oil to lightly grease a baking dish large enough to hold the zucchini in a single layer. Arrange the zucchini in the dish, sprinkle the bread crumbs over them, and bake until the filling is golden, 45-50 minutes.

Serves: 2-4
Time: 1½ hours (mostly baking time)

BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND CASHEW SOUP

Eh. This is, I think, the second time I’ve made this recipe, and it had been a long time since the first time, so I was doing a check to make sure I really liked it enough to make it worthy of inclusion in my recipe book. Everything seemed so good in theory. I’d spent the better part of the day—Sunday, this was—making homemade chicken stock, which should have boosted everything up a notch, flavorwise. And cashews are delicious, and squash and butter and cinnamon and brown sugar all go together very well, but—eh. A and I were underwhelmed. The flavors went together so well they sort of just became one big flavor, one big sweet flavor, and although adding more salt and pepper helped, it just wasn’t enough. The soup wasn’t unpleasant, just blah. I think I’ll yank it from my recipe book, but I felt like I should post it anyway, because (a) then if I change my mind and want it later it’ll still be floating around in cyberspace, and (b) maybe someone else will try it and like it. I think I should only be not posting recipes here if they’re so incredibly bad that I want everyone to stay away from them, and even then a disastrous cooking story is always fun to tell, so who knows. But I feel a little bad for this one and kind of want it to find a home somewhere else, because it is healthy and easy to make, but just needs a little help. Maybe someone can fix it and nurse it back to health? Meanwhile, I think I’ll go looking for a different butternut squash soup recipe.

I served this with Cheesy Bread (French bread sliced lengthwise and sprinkled with shredded Cheddar, then toasted lightly under the broiler) and a green salad, both of which I enjoyed more than the soup itself. But we were watching the premiere of 24, so that made everything better.

1 butternut squash
1⁄2 cup salted cashews
2-4 cups stock
5 dashes nutmeg
2-3 dashes cinnamon
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon butter
salt and pepper to taste

1. Trim the ends from the squash, cut the squash into quarters, scoop out the seeds, and bake or microwave it until tender. (The recipe is really this vague; after consulting a baked butternut squash recipe in one of my cookbooks--as always, thanks, Jack Bishop--I preheated the oven to 450, placed the squash quarters in a lightly oiled Pyrex baking dish, covered the dish with tin foil, and baked for maybe 45 minutes. The squash came out quite tender, all the better for pureeing.)

2. When the squash has cooled slightly, scoop out the flesh and discard the skin. Put half the squash flesh in the blender with 1-2 cups of chicken stock (just eyeball it based on the consistency you like) and half the cashews, and puree this until it's very smooth. Pour the soup out into a saucepan, then repeat with the remaining squash, 1-2 cups broth as needed, and cashews. Puree this and add it to the saucepan.

3. Season the soup with the nutmeg, cinnamon, sugar, butter, salt, and pepper and heat it on medium-high heat until it just begins to bubble, then serve.

Serves: 4-6
Time: 60-90 minutes, but most of that is squash-baking time

FLEMISH BEEF AND BEER STEW

Yes, yes, it’s been (eep!) a month since I last posted a real recipe here. For some of that time, I was out of cooking commission, being wined and dined by friends and family in Minnesota. For most of the rest of that time, I was, I swear, cooking, but only repeats of recipes already posted here. At least, I’m pretty sure most of them were repeats. I need to print out my archives so I have a definitive list of what I’ve posted, and then devise some marking system (Post-Its?) in my cookbook (the black three-ring binder that holds all the recipes I’ve typed up, printed out, and placed in plastic page covers) to flag what’s been posted and what hasn’t. Then, hopefully, I can try to get around to making some of the not-yet-posted ones and writing them up for your reading and cooking pleasure. (Of course, part of the problem is that some of these are spring/summery meals, so I might not get around to it for a little while yet.) And, although I’m finally beginning to be content with my standard repertoire of recipes (I’ve collected a lot more non-pasta ones, so there’s starting to be a nice variety), I still need to keep cooking the occasional new recipe to keep this site going (and keep myself interested). Luckily, I got Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day from my parents for Christmas (Hi! Thank you!), and I’ve checked his other two books out from the library. And I’ve got two spanking new (spanking, I tell you) recipes coming your way this week, in honor of the new year.

The first, this beef stew, is from Martha Rose Schulman’s Ready When You Are, which has proven to be a font of consistently toothsome, but challenging and laborious, meals. This one is no exception. With its multi-step cooking and three-hour simmering time, it pretty much demands to be made on a Sunday afternoon, so that’s what I did. I was excited about it—I don’t cook with beef much, and it sounded so warm and dark and savory, with the beer and brown sugar and onions and all—and then, as I started to cook, I grew suspicious. It looked like it might be bland. It smelled odd, not quite appetizing (I blame the hickory-smoked bacon I had, my slight aversion to bacon in general, and maybe the vinegar, for this effect), and I was having a grumpy and frustrating day. As the cooking wore on, I convinced myself the result was going to be awful. Then, about midway through the simmering, I had to turn off the stove and drive out to pick up A from work. When we came home, out of the rain, suddenly the apartment smelled good to me. And when we ate, it was very good. Very beefy, though, which I’m not used to, and I spent a while contemplating whether it had really quite merited all that work, but in the end, I decided, good. And perfect for a winter day. A, a fan of all things meaty and gravy-covered, was extremely enthusiastic.

The recipe recommends serving this over rice or potatoes. I boiled a pound and a half or so of red potatoes, then put a few in each serving bowl and smashed them up with salt and pepper before pouring the stew over it. It was nice and hearty, though we had green salads on the side to balance out the meat-and-potatoeness.

Postscript, November 2010: I don't think I ever made this again, having found tastier and less labor-intensive ways to satisfy my occasional beef cravings (e.g., chili and goulash). So I'm consigning it to the "Not Favorites" category.

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
salt and pepper
2 pounds boneless chuck or round steak, cut into 1-inch cubes
4 ounces bacon, trimmed of some of its fat and diced
2 tablespoons butter
2 large onions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon cider vinegar<
1½ cups dark beer
1 bay leaf and a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley and fresh thyme tied in cheesecloth
potatoes or rice

1. Combine the flour, ¼ teaspoon salt, and a few grinds of pepper in a small bowl and lightly dredge the meat in it. When finished, discard the unused flour mixture and set the meat aside.

2. Heat half the bacon over medium-low heat in "a large, heavy Dutch oven or flame-proof casserole" (neither of which I have, but the average Revereware soup pot seemed to do OK) until it renders its fat, i.e., starts getting greasy. Add a tablespoon of butter to this and all the onions and cook, stirring often, until the onions are tender and light brown, about 10-15 minutes. Add the sugar and stir everything together, then remove the pot from the heat.

3. While the onions are cooking, heat the rest of the bacon over medium heat in a large, heavy nonstick skillet. When it's cooked, remove it from the skillet using a slotted spoon and transfer it to the pot with the onions.

4. To the bacon grease in the skillet, add the other tablespoon of butter. When it has foamed up and subsided, lay the meat cubes in the skillet (I had to do this in three batches, as they wouldn’t all fit at once) and brown them on all sides. Transfer the meat to the pot with the onions.

5. Pour off any remaining fat from the skillet (there wasn’t much when I did it) and discard it. Add the vinegar to the skillet to deglaze it, scraping all the caramelized meat bits from the bottom and pouring them into the soup pot. (At this juncture I had a very interesting adventure when I finished deglazing the pan, then looked over and realized I still had a third batch of meat to brown. Admittedly, I just plopped the skillet back on the stove, heated it up, and browned the meat in whatever vinegar and traces of fat remained, which worked well enough and I don’t think damaged the results much).

6. Add the beer (I used Guinness) and the herb bouquet (sadly, I didn’t have any cheesecloth, so I tied the bay leaf, parsley, and thyme together with a bit of thread, and then the bouquet disintegrated as it cooked so I ended up having to fish all the bits of it out before serving, but no one choked on any string or anything, so it wasn’t too bad a strategy) to the soup pot and bring everything to a simmer. Reduce the heat to very low, cover the pot with its lid, and simmer gently for three hours, stirring from time to time, until the meat is fork-tender and the liquid is thick.

7. Serve with steamed or mashed potatoes, or rice, and accompany with beer.

Serves: 4-5
Time: About 4 hours (but only 1 hour of that is active work on your part)

SMOKY MARINARA SAUCE

Sometimes you just want some basic tomato sauce. You don’t want it to be boring, though, which is why there’s smoky marinara sauce. The secret ingredient is Muir Glen brand fire-roasted canned tomatoes, which hopefully are available wherever you happen to be (I know they are in Minnesota, anyway, as well as California). I got this recipe from my mom and really like it with cheese ravioli. I’d never made it for myself, however, before Tuesday night, and frankly the result didn’t taste as good as mom’s. Mine got sort of watery somehow, which is maybe because I wasn’t exactly sure what to buy when the recipe called for “crushed tomatoes.” Trader Joe’s didn’t have anything called that, so I just bought a can of tomatoes in tomato juice. I think maybe a tomato sauce or puree would have been better, at least for me, because I don’t particularly like big chunks of canned tomato. I’ll have to experiment. Despite the consistency problem, though, this tasted good and was easy to make. It made a lot of sauce, so I was able to freeze some for quick meals in the future.

Postscript, December 2009: Turns out that I rarely want basic tomato sauce, so I never really make this. It's going to the "Not Favorites" category, but using fire-roasted tomatoes is still a good trick when you want to spice things up.

1 tablespoon olive oil
3 cloves garlic, chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh basil or 2 teaspoons dried
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano or 2 teaspoons dried
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
28-ounce can Muir Glen fire-roasted tomatoes
28-ounce can crushed tomatoes (as I said, I would perhaps use canned tomato sauce or puree)

1. Heat the olive oil in a medium-large saucepan over medium heat. When the oil is warm add the garlic and herbs and saute for 1 minute.

2. Chop the fire-roasted tomatoes and add them (along with their juices) to the pan. Add the crushed tomatoes (or sauce or puree) as well, along with the balsamic vinegar and salt and pepper, and simmer everything for about 10 minutes.

Serves: The recipe says it makes 6 cups, which by my reckoning is at least 8 servings
Time: Under 30 minutes

SAUSAGE AND EGGPLANT “LASAGNA”

Don’t the quotes in the title look silly? Or, excuse me, “silly”? But they’re actually accurate; this is indeed pretty much like lasagna, in that it has layers of meat and cheese and tomato sauce, only it has eggplant instead of those pesky noodles. Like lasagna, the tastes meld together beautifully. And also like lasagna, it’s pretty labor-intensive, but it can conveniently be made ahead of time and baked later, so it’s good for company. I of course didn’t take advantage of this when I made it on Monday night; I just plodded along through the whole recipe while engaged in a long phone conversation—always a risky undertaking, but I didn’t get distracted enough to ruin anything.

I think this may be from Bruce Aidells’ Sausage Cookbook; anyway, I’d only made it once before. The results of the first trial had obviously been good enough to keep the recipe around, but I do recall it turning out too oily and heavy. So my challenge during Round 2 was to see if it could be made less greasy—and, therefore, worthy of keeping in the long term. I am happy to announce that I succeeded. The problem had simply been eggplant’s amazing ability to soak up oil like a sponge; the first time, I’d followed the recipe’s instructions to “drizzle with several tablespoons of oil.” This time, I used the oil very sparingly and cut down on the quantity of cheese (1 pound is a lot of mozzarella—you just don’t need that much). And the result was a nice, savory dish, rich but not overwhelming.

Both times, I’ve made a half-recipe, by the way. We just don’t need that much leftover “lasagna” cluttering up the refrigerator.

Postscript, December 2009: Ultimately, this proved to be too labor-intensive and rich to earn a regular place in my rotation, so I'm banishing it to the "Not Favorites" category. I'm still not a huge eggplant lover, try as I might.

2 medium-large eggplants
olive oil
2 pounds hot or sweet Italian sausage
2 medium onions, chopped
4 tablespoons chopped garlic
¼ teaspoon fennel seeds
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
½ pound sliced mushrooms
16 ounces canned tomato sauce
1 cup dry white wine
salt and pepper to taste
1 pound thinly sliced mozzarella cheese, or to taste (I use less)
½ pound freshly grated Parmesan, or to taste (I use less)

1. Heat a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Slice sausage into 1/2-inch pieces. When the skillet is hot, add the sausage slices and brown for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

2. When the sausage is brown, remove it from the pan with a slotted spoon and put it on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain. Turn down the heat to medium, add the onion and garlic to the sausage drippings, and cook them for about 5 minutes. When the onions are soft, add the fennel, basil, and mushrooms and sauté for about 5 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and the wine, bring the sauce to a boil, and decrease the heat to a simmer. Simmer the sauce for about 30 minutes.

3. While the sauce is cooking, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with tinfoil and then very lightly oil the surface. Trim the ends off the eggplant, peel it, and slice it lengthwise (be careful not to make the slices too thin, by the way, or they’ll overcook and get limp and useless). Place the slices on the baking sheet and brush them with the barest possible amount of olive oil. Put the baking sheet in the oven to cook for 20-30 minutes, or until the eggplant is soft. About midway through, flip the slices over, just to see how they're cooking (and to keep them from sticking to the sheet too much). When eggplant is tender, remove from oven and reduce heat to 350 degrees.

4. When the tomato sauce has simmered for 30 minutes, add the sausage and cook about 10 minutes longer, then add some pepper and a little salt and remove from heat.

5. Get out your 9x13 baking dish (since I was doing a half recipe, I used a 9x9). Place a layer of eggplant on the bottom of the dish, cover it with a layer of the tomato-sausage sauce, and then add a layer of sliced mozzarella and grated Parmesan. Continue layering ingredients, ending with a layer of cheese on top. (The recipe notes that the “lasagna” can be made ahead to this point and refrigerated overnight.)

6. Bake 20-30 minutes, until the sauce is bubbly and the cheese is melted and beginning to brown on top. Remove from oven, let it rest for 10 minutes, and then slice and serve.

Serves: 8
Time: 1½ hours