CHICKEN GYROS

I’m pretty picky about using recipes only from reliable sources, and so most of the ones I make are from cookbooks, magazines, or blogs I read regularly. But sometimes, thanks to the vast, wonderful randomness of the Internet, I end up following a string of links, arriving at a good-looking recipe, bookmarking it, and later having no memory of how I ever found it to begin with. Often I never work up the courage to make recipes with such unknown provenance, but this one—originally from Elly Says Opa! but repeated on a number of other blogs, always a good sign—just looked too tasty to pass up, and I’m so glad I took the chance, because: yum.

I already have a chicken-in-pita and three other-things-in-pitas-with-yogurt-sauce recipes in my repertoire, so I was a bit worried this would be too similar, but it had its own distinct identity—and it tasted like an ultra-fresh version of real, restaurant chicken gyros. The effect was helped immensely by my lucky decision to invest in the delicious, pillowy (if slightly pricy) Greek pitas I spotted at the farmers’ market, so I highly recommend seeking out some good-quality non-pocket pitas—or making your own, something I plan to look into promptly (I tried to make pocket pitas once and it was a flop, but I’m guessing non-pocket ones might be easier). I liked the flavor of the chicken marinade—the vinegar and the yogurt were especially nice touches—but next time I’ll amp up the flavor a bit: unlike most marinades, the original recipe didn’t call for salt, adding it to the chicken later instead, and I found the result slightly underseasoned; also, I’d consider marinating longer if time allows and using smaller pieces of chicken (breast tenders, maybe) to allow more marinade coverage. I definitely recommend using Greek yogurt for the tzatziki, which allows you to skip the yogurt-straining step, but next time I’d add the optional lemon juice to compensate for the fact that Greek yogurt tends to be less tart than normal plain yogurt. I was tempted to use just regular yogurt and not strain it, as in all my other yogurt-sauce recipes, but I ended up loving how thick and creamy, and thus more authentic-seeming, the sauce was--so don't fear; the Greek yogurt/straining and cucumber shredding/squeezing are totally worth it.

I’ll be making this again really soon..like as soon as we get back from our upcoming vacation, and probably all summer long. It’s light, it’s easy, and A and I both loved it.

For chicken:
1¼ pounds boneless, skinless chicken pieces (breasts, thighs, or a combination)
4 cloves garlic, minced
Juice of 1 lemon
2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 heaping tablespoons plain yogurt
1 tablespoon dried oregano
Salt and pepper to taste
For tzatziki:
16 ounces nonfat plain Greek yogurt (if you can’t get Greek yogurt, use plain whole-milk or part-skim normal yogurt and strain it in a cheesecloth-lined strainer over a bowl for several hours or overnight to remove as much moisture as possible)
1 large cucumber, peeled and seeded
3–5 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
1–2 teaspoons white wine vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste
1 squeeze of fresh lemon juice (optional)
Drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil (optional)
For gyros:
Sliced red onion
Sliced tomatoes
4–5 Greek-style (pocketless) pitas (original recipe called for 4, but ours came in a package of 5 and we found we had enough chicken and toppings to make a fifth gyro)

1. To make the chicken marinade, whisk together the 4 cloves minced garlic, lemon juice, red wine vinegar, olive oil, yogurt, oregano, and salt and pepper in a bowl. Add the chicken and rub the marinade in. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour.

2. To make the tzatziki, grate or shred the cucumber, wrap it in paper towels or a dish towel, and then squeeze out as much moisture as possible. Mix together the cucumbers, yogurt, garlic, white wine vinegar, lemon juice (if desired), and salt and pepper to taste. Refrigerate tzatziki for 30 minutes or more, so flavors can meld. Before serving, drizzle a little olive oil over the top if desired (I didn’t do this).

3. When ready to cook the chicken, preheat the broiler (or grill, or pan on the stove). Cook the chicken until cooked through, allow to rest for a few minutes, then slice into strips.

4. Heat your pitas for a few minutes in a warm oven or in a skillet on the stove. Top the pita with the chicken, tzatziki, tomatoes, and onions, then roll up and enjoy.

Serves: 4–5 (1 apiece)
Time: 30 minutes, plus at least 1 hour of marinating
Leftover potential: Good (store chicken, tzatziki, pita, and toppings separately, of course). Tzatziki has even more flavor on the second day.

QUINOA SOUP WITH AVOCADO AND CORN

Now this is a quinoa and corn recipe I definitely like! (As opposed to my previous attempt at one, which was just OK.) This was the first time I’d used quinoa in soup, and even though it’s really more of a stew, or even an extra-brothy version of a regular quinoa pilaf (especially in the leftovers, the quinoa absorbs a lot of the liquid), it’s getting me inspired about other ways to use my new favorite grain.

The recipe is from Lorna Sass’ Whole Grains for Busy People (which I’m tempted to check out the next time I’m at the library), via the Seattle Times, via Cheap Healthy Good. It’s extremely easy and quick, making it one of those rare summer-weeknight soups, and has a nice flavor reminiscent of tortilla soup. The avocado and lime are what really do it for me; in particular, something about the creamy texture of the avocado with the toothsome quinoa, the crisp corn, and the savory broth pleased me immensely. I was also impressed that the avocado retained its shape and greenness even after several days in the refrigerator followed by reheating in the microwave. I’ve got to admit that A wasn’t as enchanted, but he also doesn’t really like avocado much unless it’s in guacamole. But it’s a testimony to how much I liked this soup that I’m not too bothered by his lukewarm reaction: this is one of those recipes I’ll keep on making anyway, because he’ll tolerate it well enough at dinner and then leave all the leftovers for me.

Since I’m a lime fan, I altered the recipe slightly so that the lime juice is added to the soup at the end, instead of just using lime wedges as a garnish. I figured this would help prevent the avocado from browning in the leftovers, and it also tasted darn good. I also used lots of salsa and cilantro, and more than 1 cup of corn because I had two big ears of the fresh stuff. I might use a bit more broth next time, just to make it more soup-like. Otherwise, perfect!

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup quinoa
1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels
⅓ cup chunky salsa, or to taste (I used more)
1 large ripe but firm avocado, diced
Salt to taste
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro, or to taste (I used more)
Juice of 1 lime, plus extra lime wedges for serving if desired

1. In a large pot or Dutch oven, bring broth to a boil over high heat. Add quinoa, reduce heat to medium-high, and cook (still boiling) 15 minutes.

2. Add corn and salsa. Stir. When the soup comes back up to a simmer, turn off the heat and remove the pot from the burner. Add avocado and lime juice and stir gently. Add cilantro, plus salt and pepper to taste. Stir again.

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

ORANGE POPSICLE ICE CREAM

Further proof (as if I needed it) that David Lebovitz’s The Perfect Scoop is an invaluable investment: A few weeks ago, two friends of mine visited me from Minnesota and we took a short roadtrip up to the central coast. For sustenance, we brought along a large bag of oranges from the farmers’ market—but then we stopped for dinner at a mutual friend’s parents’ house in Santa Barbara and they gave us a lovely parting gift (in the manner of Southern Californians) of a huge sack of oranges and lemons from their backyard tree, so even after three days of snacking, we came home with more oranges than we’d started with. I like eating oranges, but with strawberries and cherries and peaches and nectarines all coming into season, they’re not the first thing I reach for when I want some fruit. So I needed some sort of tasty recipe that used up a lot of oranges (sure, I could just juice them, but where’s the fun in that?), and naturally I thought, “I wonder if I could make orange ice cream?”

Of course I can, and The Perfect Scoop has the recipe. Now, orange is not my favorite fruit flavor. When I was a kid, the orange popsicles were always the last ones left languishing in the variety pack, getting sticky and syrupy in that weird way old popsicles do, until I would reluctantly finish them off (or foist them on unsuspecting friends) because my parents insisted that I finish the box before they would buy another. And don’t even get me started on the sad occasions at a relative’s house when the promised “ice cream for dessert” turned out to be just orange sherbet, which as far as I was concerned was practically health food in disguise. But I did have a soft spot for Creamsicles (or Dreamsicles, as we used to call them—was that just the knock-off brand? If so, it no longer seems to exist). Sure, I’d rather have a Drumstick or an ice cream sandwich any day, but if those weren’t available, a Creamsicle still made a worthy frozen treat, superior to the lowly everyday Popsicle. I still buy them occasionally, for that nostalgic vanilla-orange taste (plus there are now raspberry ones, which are even better).

So I was excited to see that not only did Lebovitz have an orange ice cream recipe, but he was comparing it to a Creamsicle. And indeed, although a whiff of vanilla would amp up the similarity, it does taste like a creamy orange popsicle—but even better, of course, what with the freshly squeezed orange juice and lack of corn syrup. At first I was ambivalent; it tasted quite sweet and…well, intensely orangey. But to my surprise, by the time we’d finished off the batch, I’d fallen in love. This is precisely the kind of unique recipe that makes it so thrilling to have an ice cream maker. I’d still probably turn down storebought orange sherbet if it was offered to me, but I ended up making this two times in a row. It’s refreshingly citrusy yet without the pucker of lemon, and (in California at least, with our juicy, plentiful oranges) you can make it cheaply all year round. Orange you glad I gave it a try? (Sorry; couldn't resist.)

I don’t know if it’s because the temperature’s on the rise or just because it contains fruit juice instead of a puree, but both times I made this, it came out of the ice cream maker fairly runny, rather than thick and fluffy like my first sour-cream-based ice cream. I was worried this would lead to a melty or icy finished product, but I stuck it in the freezer anyway and was rewarded with perfectly textured ice cream; I think the alcohol saved the day by preventing it from freezing too hard.

⅔cup sugar
Grated zest of 3 oranges, preferably unsprayed
1¼ cups freshly squeezed orange juice (from 4 or 5 large oranges)
1 cup sour cream
½ cup half-and-half
2 teaspoons Grand Marnier or another orange liqueur

1. In a blender, pulverize the sugar and orange zest until the zest is very fine. Add the orange juice, sour cream, half-and-half, and Grand Marnier and blend until the sugar is completely dissolved.

2. Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then process it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Yields: About 1 quart
Time: 15 minutes of active work, plus chilling and processing time
Leftover potential: Good

QUINOA WITH CORN, SCALLIONS, AND MINT

After discovering a love for quinoa, I started searching online for interesting, good-quality recipes that used it. But I didn’t find as many as I expected, mainly because most people seem to use quinoa as an improvisational platform—throw some random vegetables and herbs and maybe a dressing on there and call it a day. There’s nothing wrong with that, but (a) as a quinoa newbie and habitual rule-follower I was looking for specific instructions; and (b) most of these quinoa creations began to look suspiciously similar after a while. Who knew it might be so hard to find fresh and unique quinoa ideas? This one from Gourmet jumped out at me initially because I always get obsessive about eating fresh corn at this time of year, and secondly because the honey-butter dressing sounded strange and intriguing.

The method here is a little annoying; the quinoa is first boiled and then steamed, which the recipe claims will ensure “an unbelievably light and fluffy texture.” I’m not sure I noticed that much of a difference from quinoa cooked the regular way, although admittedly most of the pain of the steaming method came from my worries about which sieve to use—I have to use my fine-mesh one for rinsing raw quinoa because the raw grains are so teeny, but that sieve is too small to hold the quinoa once it’s cooked and expanded, so I had to use the colander/pasta insert that fits atop my saucepan, and I kept worrying that the grains of quinoa would fall through the larger holes, but mostly they clumped together obligingly and stayed put. Once that was resolved, it was a little awkward, but not terribly time-consuming, and in all other respects the recipe is fairly easy (although I hate cutting corn kernels off the cob—they fly everywhere!). I did fear that the dressing plus the corn would make for a too-sweet concoction, but that wasn’t the case; actually, it had a really subtle (almost too subtle?) flavor, mostly of mint and corn. It’s not my favorite quinoa dish (that honor goes to quinoa tabbouleh), but it’s light, pretty, refreshing, and versatile (it can be eaten warm, room-temperature, or cold, making it a nice work lunch or picnic dish), so I’ll probably make it again at some point.

Two tips: Thanks to this recipe, I now always boil my corn in the husk; not only is the corny flavor intensified this way, but it’s easier to shuck afterward (you don’t have to tug as hard to get the leaves off, and the silk seems to behave itself more instead of sticking to everything). And also, as you can see in the photo, I threw some crumbled feta atop this and it was quite good.

2 ears corn, shucked
1½ teaspoons finely grated fresh lemon zest (from 1 lemon)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1½ teaspoons mild honey
¼ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon black pepper
1 cup quinoa (about 5 oz)
2 scallions, chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh mint
Crumbled feta (optional)

1. Put corn in a deep, wide pot, then add water to cover and bring to a boil, covered. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, 5 minutes. Transfer corn with tongs to a cutting board. When cool enough to handle, cut kernels off cobs with a large heavy knife.

2. Meanwhile, bring salted water to a boil in a 2-to-4-quart pot for cooking the quinoa.

3. Wash quinoa in 3 changes of cold water in a bowl, draining in a large sieve each time. Add quinoa to boiling water and cook, uncovered, until almost tender, about 10 minutes. Drain in sieve, then fill the same pot with 1 inch of water, bring to a simmer, and set sieve over pot (water should not touch bottom of sieve). Cover quinoa with a folded kitchen towel, then cover sieve with a lid (don't worry if lid doesn't fit tightly) and steam until quinoa is tender, fluffy, and dry, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand (still covered) 5 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, whisk together lemon zest and juice, butter, honey, salt, and pepper in a large bowl until combined.

5. Add quinoa to dressing and toss until dressing is absorbed, then stir in corn, scallions, mint, and salt and pepper to taste. Top with crumbled feta if desired.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good

SWEET POTATO OVEN FRIES

I’ve made these four or five times without managing to post them here, partly because I was still tinkering with the process and partly because I could never really get a good-looking photo of them. But now that I’ve recommended them as a side dish for BBQ pulled chicken sandwiches, I’d better get on with it. I feel a little shaky giving direction on this one because I cobbled it together from a couple of different recipes and can never quite remember the exact steps I’ve followed from one batch to the next, so it turns out a little different every time and the method is more intuitive/improvisational than my usual approach. OK, it’s not like making sweet potato fries is rocket science: Throw some sweet potato pieces in an oven with some oil and you’re probably going to get something pretty tasty unless you burn them. There are a million oven-fried sweet potato recipes out there, and individual tastes vary so widely regarding fry thickness, crispness, brownness, etc. that there’s no way to claim this is as by any means the “best” approach. But it suits me, so here we go.

When initially struck by the sweet-potato-fry craving, I turned to Mollie Katzen’s recipe in The Vegetable Dishes I Can’t Live Without (Serious Eats has it online here). On the plus side, Katzen’s clever trick of finishing the fries in a low-temperature oven to dry them out and crisp them up ensured that the end results were distinctly fry-like, rather than just being roasted sweet potatoes in disguise. But the downside was significant: Scrupulously following Katzen’s ¼-inch sizing guidelines yielded fries that were much too thin for my taste. They were crispy all right, but verging on desiccated, with the same crunchy texture all the way through, whereas I like a good balance between crisp shell and tender interior. Their sweet potato flavor had subsided into the browned, anonymous taste of veggie chips. They weren’t necessarily unpleasant—except for the ones that got outright burnt, a hazard of too-thin pieces—but they didn’t quite satisfy my desire for sweet potato fries either.

For the next round, I tried a recipe from Pinch My Salt that featured a number of useful improvements. Leaving the skin on helped give a more rustic, fry-like flavor, texture, and appearance and perhaps a tiny bit of extra fiber, with the welcome side effect of simplifying the prep work. Even though it dirtied an extra bowl, tossing the fries with the oil (for some reason Katzen just oils the baking sheet, not the actual potatoes) helped immensely in making me feel like my fries had been actually fried, not just dried. The fries were thick enough to maintain their soft orange interiors and avoid burning. Still, at the end of the cooking time I found myself lowering the temperature and crisping them up a bit per Katzen’s method. And as for the rosemary-garlic paste, it was good, but not amazing enough for me to go through the extra effort every time; a lot of the added flavor got lost for me once the fries had browned.

So, in the end, I use Katzen’s oven temperatures with Pinch My Salt’s skin-on, slightly-larger, oil-and-salt-tossed method, but I use my own judgment as needed. I can be inconsistent in slicing my fries, so they vary somewhat in size (¼ inch is definitely too skinny, but sometimes ½ inch just looks too chunky, although it’s good to remember that the potatoes do shrink somewhat while baking), and inevitably some of them verge on too browned while others lean toward too soft, but I kind of like the variety—that way there’s something for every taste! And the majority of them are just right.

One final tip: These are plenty good plain, but if you want a dipping sauce, forget the ketchup. Sweet potato fries + barbecue sauce is where it’s at.

2 medium-large sweet potatoes (about 1 pound)
1 to 1½ tablespoons olive oil
Coarse salt to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or foil (optional, but helpful).

2. Scrub sweet potatoes and cut them lengthwise into (approximately) ½-inch-thick slices. Stacking two slices together, cut them into (approximately) ½-inch-thick strips.

3. Put the sweet potato strips into a large bowl with olive oil and ½ teaspoon salt. Toss well to coat. Arrange the fries on the baking sheet in a single layer.

4. Bake for 10 minutes, then use tongs or a spatula to turn the fries over, rotate the pan, and bake for another 10 minutes or until tender and browned. If you like softer fries, taken them out of the oven; if you prefer crisper ones, turn the heat down to 200 degrees and bake for up to 20 minutes more, until they have shrunk and dried a bit. Watch them closely during the whole baking process and be sure not to let them burn.

5. Remove fries from oven and salt to taste.

Serves: 2
Time: 35–45 minutes
Leftover potential: Poor, but not hopeless. These are best when fresh from the oven, and it’s rare that we have leftovers, but A has satisfactorily reheated them in the microwave the next day (although I'm sure the texture becomes more like roasted sweet potato than like fries), so do save them if you can’t finish them.

BBQ PULLED CHICKEN SANDWICHES

I rarely make sandwiches, except for grilled cheeses and BLTs, but something about summer and all the accompanying glossy magazine photo spreads of picnics and barbeques makes me long for breezy, crowd-pleasing, down-home, checkered-tablecloth fare. This recipe from Cooking Light fit the bill admirably; it’s fast and easy enough to throw together on a weeknight, not too junky, and thoroughly delicious, with a complex sweet-sour-spicy flavor. (The original recipe title was “Black Pepper and Molasses Pulled Chicken Sandwiches,” but I've changed it because (a) it'll never get called that around our house and (b) it's odd to me that black pepper gets marquee billing when it's not especially prevalent in the sauce.) A few recipe commenters griped that the sauce wasn’t spicy enough, but mine had plenty of kick, probably because I substituted chipotle chili powder for part of the regular stuff, which I highly recommend for added heat and smokiness. I’m definitely glad that I took the advice of the majority of commenters and doubled the original sauce-to-chicken proportion; everyone who didn’t complained that there wasn’t enough sauce. (I’ve incorporated that change, and a few related method tweaks, into the recipe below.) I actually quadrupled the sauce quantities because I was doubling the amount of chicken—the thighs I bought came in a 1½-pound package and the commenters said the chicken mixture freezes well, so I figured what the hell? But the rolls we bought at the farmers’ market (so tasty!) were larger than 2 ounces, like small hoagie rolls, so we ate more chicken per serving than Cooking Light dictates, and A enjoyed the meal so much that within a few days, all the leftovers were gone before I could even freeze them. Upscale sloppy joes FTW!

This meal was so successful that I’m already planning to make it again just two weeks later (yes, I’m behind on my posting; I was on vacation!)—complete with sweet potato oven fries on the side, which are perfect for dipping into any leftover sauce.

6 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons prepared mustard (i.e., not mustard powder; I used Dijon)
2 tablespoons molasses
1½ teaspoons chili powder (swap in chipotle chili powder for ½ teaspoon of the regular if you like)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
12 ounces skinless, boneless chicken thighs, cut into 2-inch pieces (I just realized I totally neglected to do this the first time around, but they turned out just fine anyway; I think it just helps them cook fast enough to meet Cooking Light’s “30-minute meals” criteria)
4 (2-ounce) sandwich rolls, sliced in half horizontally
Dill pickle slices

1. Combine all ingredients except rolls and pickles in a medium saucepan; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover and cook, stirring occasionally, about 25 minutes or until chicken is done and tender (you can cook longer if you wish). If sauce looks too thin, simmer uncovered for about 5 minutes. Remove from heat.

2. Remove chicken from saucepan with a slotted spoon, reserving sauce in pan. Place chicken on a cutting board and shred with two forks. Place chicken in a bowl and mix in reserved sauce (start with ½ cup) until desired consistency is reached. (Any leftover sauce makes a good dip for sweet potato fries!)

3. Place chicken on rolls and top with pickles.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Good (obviously, store leftover chicken, pickles, and rolls separately!)

FRESH APRICOT ICE CREAM

Until I moved to California, I had never tasted a fresh apricot. I’m not sure I’d even seen one before. I may not have even given a thought to their existence, although if I’d considered it, of course I would have realized that the dried ones had to come from somewhere. But it’s not like I sit around eating dried apricots all the time anyway.

Nowadays I’m getting to be an old pro at this Californian thing, so I get happy when fresh apricots start showing up at the farmers’ market in the spring. I’ll admit, however, that my happiness springs less from my and enjoyment of the apricots themselves and more from the fact that they herald the beginning of stone-fruit season. It turns out that I think fresh apricots are OK, but they don’t hold a candle to nectarines or peaches or even plums in my affection. Still, when I suddenly realized that I need to start making ice cream in all the fresh fruit flavors of my dreams NOW NOW NOW before it gets too hot, I turned to apricots because they’re the most genuinely in season. And of course, David Lebovitz had a recipe for fresh apricot ice cream in The Perfect Scoop. And it involved almond extract, my favorite!

Lebovitz encourages you to use super-ripe, squishy apricots, but I may have been a little early in the season because I had trouble finding ones that weren’t hard. Yeah, I could have waited a few days for them to ripen, but I wanted to make the ice cream right away because I had time that day and I’m impatient like that. So I asked the fruit-stand proprietor if he had any overripe apricots and he pointed me to a box behind the counter where the softer, bruised and dented specimens were tossed. Even those weren’t crazy ripe, mostly just bruised here and there, but I got them for the bargain price of 80 cents (as opposed to the normal price of $2.50)!

The ice cream was easy to make (slice apricots, simmer in water, stir in sugar, blend with other ingredients) and churned up nice and fluffy. At first I was a little disappointed with the flavor—it was on the tart side (maybe because of the ripeness issue) and I couldn’t taste the almond, just intense apricotiness. But after a few days—I don’t know if the flavors developed in the freezer or if my mood just shifted or what—I started to really love it. It was so fresh, unique, and summery; it’s like I finally understand what fresh apricots are for, and I feel lucky to have access to them.

1 pound squishy-ripe fresh apricots (10–16, depending on size)
½ cup water
½ cup sugar
1 cup heavy cream
3 drops almond extract
A few drops of freshly squeezed lemon juice

1. Slice the apricots open and remove the pits, then cut each apricot into sixths. Cook them with the water in a covered medium saucepan over medium heat until tender, about 8 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar until dissolved. Let cool to room temperature.

2. Puree the apricots and any liquid in a blender or food processor until smooth. (If there are little fibers left, you can strain the mixture through a sieve.) Stir in the cream, almond extract, and lemon juice. Chill mixture thoroughly.

3. Process in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Yields:1 quart
Time: About 20 minutes of active work, plus a few hours of chilling, plus processing time
Leftover potential: Good, for about a week

QUINOA PILAF WITH SWEET POTATOES, KALE, AND BACON

I was going through simultaneous sweet potato and kale phases a few months ago, and I’m currently possessed by a quinoa mania, so when I saw this recipe at Serious Eats, trying it was a no-brainer. It seems better suited for fall or winter than spring, but kale and sweet potatoes are still available at the farmer’s market, so it’s not completely unseasonal. And, as you might expect when bacon and vegetables and quinoa are involved, it was quite tasty.

Since I love roasted kale, I was initially excited to see that both the kale and the sweet potatoes are roasted for this recipe, but now I have some doubts about whether roasting is really the right treatment for kale in this format. First of all, at least in my oven, 475 degrees is pretty high heat for kale; some of mine burned before the sweet potatoes had even gotten golden. If I were to roast the kale again, I’d do it at a lower temperature, then remove it, raise the heat, and roast the sweet potatoes—but that’s a lot more inconvenient for a weeknight meal. And then I felt a little sad stirring that crisp, snackable kale into the warm quinoa, where it just got soft again. It seemed to make the whole pilaf a little on the dry side, and it tasted a bit bitter. Maybe I just overdid my kale, but I do wonder if just wilting the kale in a skillet might be a better option. When fall rolls around, I’ll try it both ways and let you know. But minor kale-roasting quibbles aside, this is a delicious, wholesome, and colorful, and substantial quinoa concoction.

2–4 slices of bacon, diced
1 small onion, cut in half and sliced thin
1 cup quinoa
1½ cups water
1 teaspoon salt, divided
1 large sweet potato (about 10 ounces), cut into ¼-inch cubes
1 bunch kale (about 8 ounces), chopped coarsely
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 scallions, green parts only, sliced thin

1. Preheat the oven to 475 degrees.

2. In a medium saucepan with a tight-fitting lid (I used my Dutch oven), cook the bacon over medium heat until the bacon is crisp and the fat is rendered, about 10 minutes. Reserve the bacon bits.

3. Drop the onions into the hot bacon fat and sauté, stirring occasionally, until they soften, about 5 minutes. Add the quinoa and toss until coated with the fat and slightly toasted, about 2 minutes more. Add the water and ½ teaspoon of the salt, bring to a boil, stir once, cover, reduce to low, and let cook undisturbed until the water is absorbed and the quinoa is tender, about 15 minutes.

4. While the quinoa is cooking, toss the sweet potatoes and kale with the olive oil and salt and spread in a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake until the potatoes and kale begin to brown in places and the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes.

5. When the quinoa is cooked, stir in the potatoes, kale, bacon, and scallions.

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

STRAWBERRY-SOUR CREAM ICE CREAM

Neither A nor I really likes sour cream. Or, to be more accurate, we think of it in the same category as mayonnaise and cream cheese: good in certain contexts, but mystifying in its overall popular appeal. While sour cream is fine in a stroganoff or twice-baked potatoes, and it can be excellent in baked goods, you’re not going to catch us piling dollops of it onto our tacos or chili. I’ve become more neutral on the subject over the years; my aversion stems mainly from the quantities in which sour cream is often presented—it’s ruined so many restaurant meals by appearing unannounced in huge blobs that smother the entire plate, so you can bet that those Daisy commercials that show people happily eating it by the heaping spoonful give me the willies (similarly, although I now like a thin layer of mayonnaise on my BLTs, I still habitually resent mayo due to years of being presented with soggy sandwiches dripping with the stuff). But A harbors a distinct antipathy for many white, creamy foodstuffs, so when I announced to him that I’d found the perfect way to use up the rest of the sour cream in our fridge (I’d had to buy a whole container just for 3 tablespoons’ worth to go into his birthday cake) and the solution was making strawberry ice cream (from David Lebovitz’s indispensible The Perfect Scoop, of course), he replied, “Why would you do that?” I swore up and down that all online testimonials suggested it wouldn’t taste much like sour cream—tangier than normal ice cream, sure, but less tangy than frozen yogurt—but he remained skeptical until presented with a spoonful.

Folks, this is some good ice cream. As I predicted, the flavor wasn’t unusual—it’s just a really good strawberry ice cream, bright and fresh—but the texture sent me over the moon. I don’t know whether to thank the sour cream or perfect weather conditions, but this is the first recipe that’s turned out really thick and creamy for me right out of the ice cream maker. Thanks to lack of air conditioning, a temperamental freezer, and my refusal to bother with custard-based recipes, I’ve gotten used to homemade ice creams that taste delicious but vacillate between melty and icy. This one was amazingly light and fluffy, so much so that it nearly overflowed the bowl of the ice cream maker. I churned it while home alone on Saturday night, after returning from the pub with several beers in me, and I’m relieved there was no one around to see how greedily I licked the spatula, the beater, and even the freezer bowl, but I’m sorry that A didn’t get a chance to try this when it was freshly made. We’ve been eating bowls of it for dessert all week and it’s still fabulous, but the newly-churned version was incredible, cold, sweet, and pillowy, like strawberry whipped cream. For health purposes, strawberry frozen yogurt will remain my go-to recipe, but next time I have leftover sour cream, I know exactly what I’m doing with it.

1 pound fresh strawberries, rinsed and hulled
¾ cup sugar
1 tablespoon kirsch or vodka (I used kirsch)
1 cup sour cream
1 cup heavy cream
½ teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

1. Slice strawberries and toss in a bowl with sugar and kirsch or vodka, stirring until sugar begins to dissolve. Cover and let stand at room temperature for 1 hour, stirring every so often.

2. Pulse the strawberries and their liquid with the sour cream, heavy cream, and lemon juice in a blender or food processor until almost smooth but still slightly chunky.

3. Refrigerate for 1 hour, then freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Yields: About 1¼ quarts
Time: 15 minutes of active work, 2 hours of waiting, plus processing time
Leftover potential: Best when freshly made, but will keep nicely in the freezer for at least a week

QUINOA TABBOULEH

Alert the media: I may be having an official love affair with quinoa. Something about its fluffy al dente texture is so comfort-foody to me that it feels secretly indulgent, yet it’s actually angelically light and wholesome. And this recipe for it is even better than the first one I tried.

My parents loved making tabbouleh when I was a kid, but the chewy, health-foodish bulgur that was its base grossed me out. Nowadays I’ll eat tabbouleh as part of a restaurant platter, but it definitely plays a supporting role to the hummus and falafel, and I certainly never felt compelled to make it at home until I started obsessively searching the Web for more quinoa recipes and saw this one at The Kitchn. Ta-dah: Trade bulgur for quinoa and I freakin’ love tabbouleh! Aside from the quinoa, it’s not really much different from my recipe for fattoush, except with feta and onion and without cilantro. You’ve got your tomato, cucumber (not included in the original recipe, but included in many similar recipes, and I’m never sorry for an excuse to eat cucumber, so I added it here), parsley, and mint in a lemon dressing—what’s not to love? And love it I did. I went a bit easier on the herbs (the quantities here are pretty huge, and mint and parsley are probably A’s least favorites; also, I admit I may have gotten tired of mincing) and it was perfectly delicious, but I don’t think the full amounts would be as overpowering as I feared, so I’ll be bolder next time. I also eased up on the feta; the original recipe called for 8 ounces, and Trader Joe’s sells crumbled feta in 6-ounce containers. I didn’t even use the entire container and it seemed plenty cheesy to me, but I know feta lovers are a passionate bunch (I’m more feta-neutral), so just eyeball whatever looks good to you. If you want to be vegan, this would still even be tasty with the cheese left out entirely.

Anyway, I served this with hummus and pita crisps, although it makes a perfectly satisfying light meal on its own—as I can vouch, because even though A claimed to like quinoa tabbouleh, he didn’t make a dent in the three leftover servings. Which, actually, was just fine with me; I happily ate them all myself over the course of the week. In fact, I wish I had some right now. This will definitely be one of my go-to dishes this summer.

1 cup dry quinoa
½ red onion, diced
2 medium tomatoes, seeded and diced, or 1–2 cups of cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small cucumber, peeled, seeded, and diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 bunch parsley (about 2 cups), minced
1 bunch mint (about ½ cup), minced
6–8 ounces feta
¼ cup good extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Salt to taste

1. Rinse the quinoa well under cold water, then add to a medium saucepan with 2 cups of water and ½ teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat to medium-low, cover, and cook until the quinoa is fluffy and chewy, about 20 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, put the diced red onion in a small bowl, cover it with water, add a pinch of salt, and let soak. (This will give the raw onion less bite.)

3. When quinoa is cooked, empty it into a large bowl and allow it to cool almost to room temperature, stirring occasionally. (This will help the vinaigrette coat everything without the quinoa absorbing too much of it.)

4. When the quinoa feels just barely warm to the touch, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, and a healthy pinch of salt. Pour it over the quinoa and stir until the grains are evenly coated. Drain the water off the onions and add them to the bowl along with the tomatoes, cucumber, garlic, parsley, and mint, and stir to combine. Crumble the feta over the top and gently stir it in as well. Taste the salad and add more lemon juice or salt as desired.

Serves: 4-6
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: High. The flavors actually deepen overnight. Will keep in the fridge for at least a week; can be eaten cold or at room temperature (I like it best somewhere in between). Great for work lunches because it’s not too heavy but still prevented me from being ravenous at 5 p.m.

AVOCADO, STRAWBERRY, ORANGE, AND ARUGULA SALAD

I’m a latecomer to avocados; I didn’t even start liking guacamole until my college years, when I tasted the good stuff in Mexico. But moving to California, where avocados are so very cheap and good and plentiful (so much so that you might actually know some people who have avocado trees in their backyards and bestow big bagfuls upon you), made me feel contractually obligated to use them, and now I am enamored with them. It helps that our farmers’ market has a cheerful, capable vendor A and I refer to as The Avocado Lady, who has the infallible magical power of selecting precisely the right avocado for you based on size, type, intended use, and when you want to eat it, so that all I have to do is stroll up and say “I’d like something that will be ripe tomorrow night” and I’m presented with a perfect avocado every time.

I don’t have that many avocado recipes yet, though, so I was excited to see this one from Gourmet at The Bitten Word, chock full of ingredients I like and bursting with beautiful bright colors. Since goat cheese tastes like dirt to me (I keep trying, I swear!) I almost skipped the cheese entirely, but I subbed in feta at the last minute and was glad I did; it kept the sweet-savory balance intact. I also ended up using a couple of mandarin oranges instead of a navel orange, because when I sliced open my navel orange it was all tragically dry and stringy (I think that’s the first-ever bad orange I’ve encountered in the six years I lived here), so I squeezed out enough juice for the dressing and discarded the flesh. I actually liked the mandarin orange segments a lot; they were a lot less labor-intensive and held together neatly for tossing and eating. Surprisingly, though, I didn’t really like the dressing here, even though it’s just a lime-orange version of my go-to lemon vinaigrette. Maybe the juice from the rogue orange tainted the whole thing, but I kept tasting the dressing over and over again as I whisked it, and it seemed to vacillate between anemic at best and off-tasting at worst. It didn’t ruin the salad for me because I loved all the other ingredients so much, but it certainly lacked the pizzazz needed to elevate this from “big bowl of cut-up foods I enjoy” to more than the sum of its parts. Perhaps having orange in both the dressing and the salad was overkill, and my taste buds were hoping for a more contrasting flavor? I wonder how the balsamic vinaigrette from the rather-similar-now-that-I-think-about-it arugula and strawberry salad would work with this recipe. I know people routinely eat avocado halves with balsamic vinegar poured in the pit cavity, so it wouldn’t be a crazy flavor combo, right? Or possibly, since I thought this salad also needed a crunchy, earthier element like nuts, I should just merge the two recipes and be done with it. I’ll experiment and let you know how that goes. But regardless, I’ll make this again. It’s a tasty way to get your fruits and veggies in one bowl and will make a refreshing light dinner on a hot summer day.

1 navel orange
1 cup strawberries, sliced or quartered
1 avocado, halved, pitted, peeled and cut into ½-inch pieces
2 teaspoons fresh lime juice, divided

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
3 cups baby arugula (2 ounces)
2ounces mild goat or feta cheese, crumbled
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Cut peel, including all white pith, from oranges. Working over a small bowl, cut segments free from membranes. Squeeze membranes for more juice so that you have 1½ teaspoons of orange juice in the bowl. In a larger bowl, gently toss together the orange segments, strawberries, avocados, and ½ teaspoon lime juice.

2. To the small bowl of orange juice, add oil, remaining 1½ teaspoons lime juice, and salt and pepper to taste.

3. Toss arugula with dressing, top with avocado-strawberry mixture, and sprinkle with cheese.

Serves: 2–3
Time: 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Poor, unless ingredients are stored separately (but even then, avocado will get brown)

COCONUT CUPCAKES

Every year at about this time, I crave coconut cake. That’s because when I was little, my mom would always make me a birthday cake shaped like a bunny, with coconut fur and jellybean eyes. I loved those cakes. But soon, my taste in birthday desserts started skewing toward the chocolatey, and I never looked back. I don’t think I’ve tasted coconut cake in years, and I haven’t even had cake for my birthday in recent memory; since moving to California, I’ve established a tradition of having a beach bonfire party, so hot dogs and s’mores are the new treat of choice. Plus I like cookies and candy and pie and ice cream more than I like cake. Plus I’ve got no one to make a cake for me (mom is far away, and baking is not one of A’s many skills), and it’s a little sad to have to make your own birthday cake, right?

Not if you’ve got a food blog! When I saw these cupcakes at Ezra Pound Cake a few months ago, I knew I needed a good excuse to make them, so I bookmarked them for my birthday. Besides the fact that they were (a) coconut and (b) cupcakes, what tempted me most about them was the inclusion of almond extract, one of my favorite flavors, and buttermilk, which is always stellar in baked goods, and the cream cheese frosting (I don’t love frosting, but I make an exception for cream cheese frosting—which is odd, because I don’t love cream cheese, either). Plus, the recipe was from Ina Garten, as so many delicious things tend to be. My birthday was on a Friday this year, which was not terribly conducive to cake-baking, but I quickly overcame that obstacle by simply declaring Saturday my birthday as well. Friday would be my office party and my bonfire, and Saturday would be cake baking, fun stuff (a trip to Descanso Gardens and a mini-golf outing), dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant, cake eating, and gift opening.

When I embarked on my baking and was setting out all the butter on the counter to bring it to room temperature, I realized this recipe is definitely a once-a-year treat. We’re talking three sticks of butter for a dozen cupcakes, plus the buttermilk and cream cheese. Aside from my Butter Guilt, however, the baking and frosting proceeded smoothly (it’s pretty much just standard cake procedure). I made no recipe changes, except that I used the ol’ milk + lemon juice buttermilk substitute because I didn’t want to make a special trip to the store to buy a whole carton when I just needed ½ cup. Real buttermilk is always better, though, so in the future I’ll try to make the effort. The cupcakes were still plenty good, but when I use buttermilk I can always taste that nice tang and notice the extra-tender texture it imparts, while when I use a substitute it just seems more…neutral.

These cupcakes were so, so good—exactly what I’d been craving. The cake part was good but unobtrusive, buttery and not too sweet, a perfect canvas to showcase the coconut flavor and the frosting (I did think the cake seemed just a little stiffer than I like it, but that may have been my fault, not the recipe’s). The frosting was excellent: perfectly pillowy texture, again not too sweet. The weird thing was that the cupcakes seemed to actually get better with time. I liked them when we ate them on Saturday, but the frosting seemed too tangy and cream-cheesy, and the coconut flavor wasn’t as strong as I’d been expecting. We stuck the rest of the cupcakes in the fridge, and the next day when I had one (after letting it sit out on the counter for half an hour or so to bring it back up to room temperature), I was amazed. Either my palate was out of whack on Saturday, or the coconut had really permeated the cupcakes by Sunday. I’d thought I was going to try to pawn off the rest of the cupcakes on my coworkers on Monday, but it turned out there was no way I was going to part with them, and we enjoyed cupcakes for dessert every night this week. Now they’re gone and I have something to look forward to next April, because these are definitely becoming a birthday tradition for me.

I’m so glad I went ahead and made my own cake. For one thing, I’d forgotten how happy it makes me to blow out the candles. But more importantly, it feels really good to indulge in exactly what you want. I’d considered just going out and buying two cupcakes from the cupcake shop in our neighborhood, and that would have been fine, but it wouldn’t have been as satisfying. Baking is fun, and when you put labor into something you’re going to eat and it turns out just as good as you’d hoped (or better), it’s like a gift to yourself. Happy birthday, me.



For the cake:
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 extra-large eggs, at room temperature
¾ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¾ teaspoon pure almond extract
1½ cups flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup buttermilk
3½ ounces sweetened, shredded coconut

For the frosting:
½ pound (8 ounces) cream cheese, room temperature
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon pure almond extract
12 ounces confectioners’ sugar, sifted
3½ ounces sweetened, shredded coconut

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line a muffin pan with paper liners.

2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar on high speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. With the mixer on low speed, add the eggs, one at a time, scraping down the bowl after each addition. Add the vanilla and almond extracts; mix well.

3. In a separate bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

4. Add one-third of the dry ingredients to the batter, then add half the buttermilk. Repeat with another one-third of the dry ingredients and the rest of the buttermilk, then add the remaining dry ingredients. Mix until just combined. Fold in coconut.

5. Fill each paper liner to the top with batter. Bake for 25 to 35 minutes, until the tops are brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 15 minutes. Remove to a baking rack and cool completely.

6. Meanwhile, make the frosting. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla and almond extracts. Add the confectioners’ sugar and mix until smooth.

7. Frost the cupcakes. Sprinkle with the remaining 3½ ounces coconut.

Yields: 12
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good. We kept them in the fridge, bringing them up to room temperature before we ate them, and they were still just as good six days later.

QUINOA WITH ASPARAGUS AND LEMON

Quinoa! It looks kinda freaky (something about all those tiny dots just makes me uncomfortable, the way fish roe does), but it tastes delicious (mild, a bit nutty), has an addictive texture (fluffy, slightly chewy), and is crazy good for you (chock full of protein, fiber, phosphorus, magnesium, and iron). Not to mention that it’s a really fun word to type and say.

Like just about everyone, I’m trying to incorporate more grains into my diet. (Zzzz, I know.) Also, for my own entertainment, I some need new meal platforms; my favorite things to cook are one-dish dinners that combine a starch with a bunch of vegetables and herbs, but one can (or should, at least) only eat so much pasta and I don’t really like rice. Exploring the exciting frontier of grains, especially with summer salad season fast approaching, gives me a whole new category of recipes to try, and I’ve been eagerly a-bookmarkin’ in anticipation.

A few weeks ago, I ate dinner with my friend P, who’s recently been diagnosed with a host of food allergies, including an allergy to wheat. So one of the things she cooked for me was quinoa, and it was so tasty I was inspired to cook it myself for the first time. Sifting through quinoa recipes on Food Blog Search, I encountered this one from Eggs on Sunday, which seemed like the perfect gateway drug, dovetailing perfectly with my annual obsession with asparagus and lemon.

I could tell that A was a little suspicious of the quinoa, but he sampled it gamely (I served proscuitto-wrapped chicken on the side to soften the blow). In pitching the dish to him, I had lamely described it as “sort of like rice or couscous, but better”; after tasting it, he amended, “It’s like how I always wish couscous could be.” In other words: thumbs up. I followed the recipe exactly and found it easy and thoroughly delicious—however, the lemon flavor is strong, so if you’re not a crazy lemon fan like me, you might consider dialing down the lemon juice or zest to start out with (you can always add more later). I've classified this as a side dish, but there's no reason you couldn't eat a big bowl of it as a light meal on its own. As a bonus, it's especially pretty, with the pink shallots adding a nice pastel accent to the green asparagus and pale-yellow grain. This will be a certain addition to my spring menu rotation, and I’m now officially emboldened to experiment further with quinoa. Quin-yeah!

1 cup quinoa, well rinsed
2 cups water
1 pound asparagus, cut into ½-inch pieces
1 tablespoon lemon zest
¼ cup lemon juice
1 tablespoon chopped chives
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1 shallot, minced
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Rinse 1 cup quinoa well under cold water, then place it in a saucepan with 2 cups water. Bring to a boil, then turn down and simmer until the water is absorbed, about 15 minutes.

2. While the quinoa is cooking, mix the lemon juice in a small bowl with the minced shallot, a good pinch (about ½ tsp) of coarse salt, and a few good grindings of fresh black pepper. Whisk to combine, then drizzle in the 3 tablespoons olive oil, whisking all the time. Add the lemon zest and the chopped herbs, and whisk to combine.

3. When the quinoa is done cooking, transfer it to a large mixing bowl and pour the vinaigrette over it, then stir with a fork or large spoon to coat the quinoa.

4. Fill your saucepan back up with water and bring it to a rolling boil with enough coarse salt to season the water. Add the pieces of asparagus to the boiling water and cook for 1 minute. Drain the asparagus and run some cold water over it to stop the cooking process.

5. Add the asparagus to the quinoa and stir to combine. Taste and adjust the seasonings, if needed.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good. I even ate some five days later and it was still decent. I reheated it in the microwave, but you could also try eating it cold, for more of a salad-like effect.

GREEN BEANS WITH WARM BACON VINAIGRETTE

It will surprise exactly no one that the combination of green beans and bacon turns out to be excellent. I tore this recipe out of the November issue of Cooking Light and by now it’s racked up a perfect five-star rating on the Web site. It was intended as a Thanksgiving recipe, but I see no need to wait for a special occasion; this is a great way to jazz up an ordinary weeknight meal (we had it with zucchini fritters). The flavors go together beautifully: Like my favorite salad, it has green beans and walnuts and a walnut oil/white-wine-vinegar dressing; like these two also-tasty recent discoveries, it uses bacon grease to excellent effect; and like so many of my most reliable side dishes, it involves shallots. What’s not to love? A and I both devoured it happily, and it’s definitely going into our regular rotation.

Other than halving the quantities (it originally served 8), using plain ol' farmers' market green beans instead of haricots verts, and swapping in white wine vinegar for the champagne vinegar, which I never have on hand, I followed the recipe as written. I do recommend walnut oil (I’ve become a convert), but olive oil will do just fine if you don’t want to make the investment.

1 pound green beans, trimmed
2 slices bacon, chopped
⅓ cup thinly sliced shallots (about 1 medium)
2 teaspoons walnut oil
1 teaspoon champagne or white wine vinegar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts, toasted
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1. Cook beans in boiling salted water for 7 minutes or until crisp-tender. Drain and rinse with cold water to stop cooking.

2. Cook bacon in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat until crisp; remove with a slotted spoon. Add shallots to drippings in pan; cook 5 minutes or until tender. Combine shallots and bacon in a large bowl. Add beans to pan; cook 3 minutes or until thoroughly heated. Add beans, oil, vinegar, and salt to bacon mixture; toss to combine. Sprinkle with walnuts and parsley.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Meh; they were perfectly edible the next day, but not nearly as good.

BBQ CHICKEN PIZZA

BBQ chicken pizza is apparently the most popular offering at California Pizza Kitchen (at least, according to the website), but I’ve never been tempted to order it. (I will admit to liking CPK just fine and, although we don’t go there very often, I have definite favorites: the wild mushroom pizza and the garlic chicken pizza—although neither is as good as my former favorite, which was sadly retired a few years ago). I like barbecue fine at venues that specialize in it, but not enough to order something with “BBQ” in the title at an ordinary chain restaurant when there are other, more vegetable-y things available. And when I saw a copycat recipe of the CPK superstar on The Pioneer Woman Cooks, I wouldn’t ordinarily have been that excited by the idea of making my own BBQ chicken pizza at home—were it not for the three-quarters-full bottle of Arthur Bryant’s barbecue sauce sitting in my refrigerator for the past eight months, looking lost and lonely. I brought it back for A from my trip to KCMO, and I thought it a fine condolence prize for him not being able to experience that luscious pile of pork for himself, except that it turns out there’s not a whole lot for us to do with a bottle of barbecue sauce considering that we don’t ever barbecue. A loves condiments of all sorts and usually keeps a bottle of BBQ sauce in the fridge for dipping oven fries or whatnot into, so I guess I thought he’d use it for that, but occasional snacking barely made a dent in the supply. So: BBQ chicken pizza, the perfect solution.

The recipe I ended up making is an amalgam of Pioneer Woman’s and multiple variants of the “official” recipe available on the Internet. PW didn’t include smoked Gouda in hers, and a number of the comments pointed out that it’s a key ingredient of the CPK one, so I went ahead and added some; it does lend a really nice flavor (well, actually, Trader Joe’s didn’t have smoked Gouda, so I used a “smoked Dutch cheese” that I suspect was pretty much the same thing). Since I had some leftover precooked chicken in the freezer waiting to be used, I went ahead with the “official” method of just tossing it with a little barbecue sauce; however, if I were starting with raw chicken I’d definitely use PW’s clever method of cooking it in the sauce for a more baked-in flavor. Also, both the “official” recipe and PW’s make two smallish pizzas, but I wanted to make one standard one, so I ended up eyeballing the ingredient quantities. I’ve done my best to replicate this below, but go with whatever looks good to you. The nice thing about pizza is that you don’t need to be very precise. Just don’t leave out the cilantro—it adds an unexpected flavor twist that kicks everything up.

I still have at least ½ cup of Arthur Bryant’s sauce left in the bottle, so I’ll definitely be making this at least one more time. After that, though, I’d probably still make this again. It might not become my very favorite pizza, but it was easy, zippy-tasting, a good way to use up orphaned cooked chicken, and a nice change from my other recipes. (Needless to say, A really loved it.) If I do keep making it, though, I’ll either have to find a good barbecue sauce available locally or try making my own—which I've been looking for an excuse to do anyway...

UPDATE, September 2012: If you want to make your own barbecue sauce for this pizza, here's a tasty and easy recipe adapted from A Good Appetite:

⅔ cup ketchup (preferably organic, no high-fructose corn syrup)
⅓ cup water
2 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
¼ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1–2 tablespoons brown sugar

Mix all ingredients together in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook, stirring from time to time, until reduced slightly and darkened in color, about 45 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool.

1 pound pizza dough
1–2 whole boneless, skinless, chicken breasts or an equivalent amount of precooked (e.g., rotisserie) chicken (about 5–10 ounces)
½–¾ cup barbecue sauce
1–1½ cups shredded mozzarella cheese
2 tablespoons shredded smoked Gouda cheese
1 small red onion, sliced very thin
Chopped cilantro to taste

1. If you are using raw chicken breasts, preheat oven to 375 degrees. Place chicken breasts in an ovenproof dish and pour about ½ cup barbecue sauce over them, turning them over to coat both sides. Bake for 20–25 minutes or until chicken is done. Remove from oven and cut into a fine dice. If you are using precooked chicken, shred it or cut it into fine dice, then toss in a small bowl with about 2 tablespoons barbecue sauce.

2. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

3. Roll/stretch out pizza dough on a baking sheet coated in a little olive oil or cornmeal. Spread a thin layer of barbecue sauce over the crust (about ¼ cup, or to taste). Top sauce with half the mozzarella and all the Gouda. Sprinkle on the diced chicken and thinly sliced red onion, then top with the remaining mozzarella.

4. Bake for about 15 minutes, or until crust is golden brown and toppings are bubbly. Remove from the oven and sprinkle on plenty of chopped cilantro.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes if cooking chicken; 45 minutes if using precooked
Leftover potential: Good; if possible, heat up leftovers in the oven.

MEYER LEMON FROZEN YOGURT

We lucked into a big bag of Meyer lemons from A's friend's family's tree (inheriting large sacks of citrus fruit being one of those SoCal customs I'm happy to embrace), and I thought immediately of lemon frozen yogurt. I made lemon ice cream soon after acquiring my ice cream maker, but then came that run of delicious frozen yogurts over the summer, and now I'm enchanted with the tang and relative lightness of homemade fro-yo. I'd have to fly without a net, however, since my ice cream guru David Lebovitz didn't include lemon in the frozen yogurt variants in The Perfect Scoop. Luckily, I was able to cobble together this three-step, three-ingredient treat based on Lebovitz's other recipes and some intrepid Googling. The result is puckeringly tart-sweet (less passionate lemon lovers may want to dial down the lemon juice, particularly if you're not using the sweeter Meyers; I just wanted to use up all my juice in one go). A little goes a long way; a single scoop makes a refreshingly bright, cool treat after dinner or on a warm afternoon, particularly when topped with strawberries.

3 cups plain Greek yogurt (I used 2 cups whole-milk yogurt and 1 cup 2%)
1 to 1½ cups sugar (to taste)
1 cup freshly squeezed Meyer lemon juice

1. Combine all ingredients in a large bowl and stir until sugar is dissolved.

2. Refrigerate several hours until fully chilled.

3. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

Yields: About 1½ quarts
Time: 10 minutes, plus chilling and freezing time
Leftover potential: High; keeps well in the freezer for at least a week

PEAR, PROSCIUTTO, AND ARUGULA PIZZA

I used to claim that I didn’t like cooked fruit at all, and then that I didn’t like it in savory contexts, but lately there’s been a lot of evidence that I’ve become intrigued—some might say borderline obsessed—with pairing apples and pears with meat, probably because of the irresistible sweet-salty contrast. As soon as I turned the page to this recipe in last month’s Cooking Light, I tore it out, began trolling the online version for user reviews (it has a 5-star rating so far, I’m pleased to report), and eagerly awaited a chance to make it. Before I got an opportunity, my parents arrived for a visit and whisked us away on a trip to San Diego, during the course of which we ate at a CPK-style “gourmet” pizza restaurant, where I ordered…a pear and prosciutto pizza. The connection barely occurred it me at the time—it just looked like the most appealing thing on the menu to me at that particular moment—but when I got home and took another look at this recipe, I realized it was nearly an exact clone of the pizza I ate, down to the vinegar-dressed arugula salad on top. On the plus side, the restaurant’s version had gorgonzola, which I don’t normally love but which pairs beautifully with pears (I might add it to this recipe the next time I make it). But on the minus side, their pizza was drowning in dressing, leaving the arugula oily and the flavor overwhelmed by vinegar. When I set out to finally make my own, I was confident the homemade version would be better.

And, surprise! Of course it was better. (I tried to generate a bit of suspense with that paragraph break, but I think you know me too well to fall for it.) This being Cooking Light, I didn’t have the sodden-greens problem; there was no oil in the dressing and just the right (i.e., moderate) amount of vinegar. The combination of the caramelized onions, salty prosciutto, sweet pear, and peppery arugula was perfect. It tasted decadent, but the raw greens on top kept it feeling fresh and light—like a main dish and a salad in one! I feel like I always say this when I like something (particularly a pizza), but it’s true—I can’t wait to make it again.

A few notes:

• The CL recipe called for a 12-ounce premade pizza crust, but as usual, I was using Trader Joe’s pizza dough, which comes in a 1-pound ball, so my pizza was larger and I slightly increased the topping quantities accordingly. I didn’t really take note of the measurements I used, just eyeballed however much cheese and prosciutto it took to cover the crust.
• I used mozzarella instead of Provolone, because I prefer it and it’s what I had on hand. It was nice and neutral, lending a creamy texture without getting in the way of the other flavors. However, as I mentioned, a little sprinkling of Gorgonzola could amp this up even more.
• I used a D’Anjou pear, ever-so-slightly underripe. It worked well.
• I’m not sure how much the walnuts added to the mix. I couldn’t taste them much, and the texture clashed a bit with the rest of the ingredients, and they had a tendency to roll off the pizza when you picked it up to take a bite, so I’d understand if you wanted to omit them. But since I usually have them around, I’ll probably keep on including them.
• I think I used more arugula than the recipe called for (certainly more than is shown in the CL photo)—about two generous handfuls. I like to get my vitamins without bothering with a side salad.
• The original recipe called for sherry vinegar, but I subbed balsamic, since I didn’t have sherry, I like the taste of balsamic, and I believe the restaurant version used it.

1 tablespoon olive oil
2 cups thinly sliced yellow onion
1 pound pizza dough
½ to 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1 medium-to-large pear, thinly sliced
2 ounces prosciutto, cut or torn into thin strips
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts, toasted
1½ to 2 cups baby arugula leaves
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion to pan; cover and cook for 3 minutes. Uncover and cook 10 minutes or until golden brown, stirring frequently.

3. Roll out pizza dough and place on a cornmeal-dusted baking sheet. Top evenly with onion mixture; sprinkle with cheese. Top evenly with pear and prosciutto. Sprinkle with pepper. Bake for 12 minutes or until cheese is melted and crust is browned.

4. Sprinkle pizza with nuts. Place arugula in a medium bowl, drizzle with vinegar, and toss gently to coat. Top pizza evenly with arugula mixture.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, but if you plan on having leftovers, don’t perform Step 4 for the entire pizza, only the part that you’re planning on eating right away. Store the pizza, walnuts, arugula, and vinegar in separate containers and don’t combine them until after the pizza has been reheated.

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.

ROASTED PARSNIPS WITH BALSAMIC VINEGAR AND ROSEMARY

First fennel, then sweet potatoes, and now parsnips? 2010 has thus far apparently been The Year of New Vegetables , or at least The Year When I Finally Discover Great Recipes That Make Me Fall in Love with New Vegetables. I’d cooked with parsnips a few times before (once in a soup, and occasionally in various roasted-vegetable mixtures), but the results were never particularly blogworthy. Plus, for some reason I have a hard time obtaining parsnips—I never see them at the farmers’ market, and while it’s not that surprising that Trader Joe’s doesn’t have them, I’m confused that I can’t seem to find them at my local Vons either (which is a standard not-that-fancy chain grocery store, but does carry most other produce items I can think of, including quail eggs [I always wonder why those aren’t in the egg section]). So I have to go to Whole Foods, which is not on my usual grocery-getting rotation (the only things I regularly buy there are bulk oatmeal, ground pork, and Leinenkugel's beer), and where they are not particularly cheap for such a humble vegetable. Whither the parsnip in Pasadena?

This recipe from Jack Bishop’s indispensible Vegetables Every Day sounded like it was worth the special trip to Whole Foods, and an excellent way to give parsnips a chance. Roasting is pretty much always one of the best ways to broach a new vegetable, and parsnips roast up particularly well, sweet and caramelized, reminiscent of oven-baked sweet potato fries (one of my recent obsessions, although I haven’t posted a recipe yet because I’ve been playing with different versions). There are a million variations on roasted parsnips available on the Internets, but I’m so glad I tried Bishop’s, because the simple rosemary-balsamic glaze takes these to another level. Two tablespoons sounded like an awful lot of vinegar to be soaking my already-nice-looking roasted parsnips with, but sure enough, after a few more minutes in the oven, the vinegar magically cooked down into a sticky, subtle glaze that made them taste even better--an addictive treat of a side dish I'm already yearning to eat again.

The recipe is easy-peasy, although I did a poor job of cutting my parsnips into uniform-sized pieces, and I’m guessing that overall I could have done bigger ones, because they didn’t need anywhere near 40 minutes to get browned and tender (I’m guessing maybe 25 minutes?) and a few neared the verge of charred. So just keep an eye on them while they’re roasting and trust your senses over the recipe; when they look good to you, take them out.

2 pounds parsnips
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary leaves

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Peel the parsnips. If they are quite small, you can simply cut them into 1½-inch chunks. Larger parsnips will probably have a tough woody core that needs to be removed. (You can see it when you cut open the parsnips. To remove the core, quarter the parsnips lengthwise and then use a paring knife to shave off the portion of the core that is attached to each quarter.) Cut the cored parsnips into 1½-inch chunks.

3. Toss the parsnips with the oil on a large rimmed baking sheet. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Roast, turning once, until golden brown, about 40 minutes.

4. Combine the vinegar and rosemary in a small bowl. Drizzle the mixture over the roasted parsnips on the baking sheet and toss to coat. Continue to roast until parsnips are glazed, about 3 minutes.

Serves: 4 (or possibly fewer; I made an approximately 1.5-sized version of the recipe and the two of us ate it all in one sitting)
Time: 45 minutes to 1 hour
Leftover potential: Unknown; I imagine they would lose some of their crispness but still taste quite nice