SPINACH SALAD WITH MUSHROOMS, BACON, AND POACHED EGG

Yes, another salad with an egg on it. Yes, another warm bacon vinaigrette. I am nothing if not predictable. Don’t dismiss this as a repeat, though, because it’s not, and it’s incredibly delicious to boot.

I’m not sure what exactly inspired me to go Googling spinach-mushroom-bacon-egg salads, except for the irrefutable logic that if spinach + mushroom = good, and spinach + bacon = good, and bacon + egg = good, then spinach + mushroom + bacon + egg = quadruply good. I stumbled across rough versions of what I was hankering for at Beyond the Peel and The Pioneer Woman Cooks. The first recipe seemed like it might be a little too simple (no real dressing, just vinegar); the second one had some mouthwatering additions (onion, Dijon) but was fussier. I thought I’d try the second one, except with poached eggs instead of hard-boiled (and no sugar—I hate it in dressings), but in the end I basically followed the first one, adding onion and mustard. It was Saturday night and I was feeling too lazy to make a separate dressing, so I just stirred the vinegar and Dijon in with everything else that had been sautéing in the bacon drippings, and what do you know? It was just fine. Better than fine, really. I loved it, and A mentioned to me several times how good it was. Without the egg, it would probably make a nice side dish; with one egg, it could grace your brunch table; with two eggs, it’s a light but gratifying spring evening meal.

4 strips bacon, diced
½ small red onion, thinly sliced
4 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced
3 ounces baby spinach
1–2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2–4 eggs
Asiago, Parmesan, or Pecorino Romano cheese to taste, shaved or shredded (optional)

1. Heat a skillet over medium heat. Once the pan is hot, add the bacon and fry until crisp. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and set it aside on a paper towel to drain.

2. To the bacon fat in the skillet, add the onions and mushrooms. Saute for about 10 minutes, or until onions are tender and mushrooms are golden.

3. Add vinegar and mustard to the mushroom-onion mixture and stir well. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the bacon.

4. Meanwhile, poach eggs. (I use this method.)

5. Place 1½ cups of spinach on each plate. Top with the mushroom-onion-bacon mixture and then with the poached eggs. Season with salt and pepper and garnish with cheese if desired.

Serves: 2
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Unknown. You could probably store the mushroom-onion-bacon mixture separately in the fridge, reheat it, and then put it on some spinach when you’re ready to eat it, but you’d have to wait to poach your eggs until then.

KALE CAESAR SALAD WITH POACHED EGG AND CRISPY PROSCIUTTO

Just in case you were laboring under the misapprehension that raw kale is solely hippie-dippy rabbit food, I thought I’d debauch it a little. It’s kind of hilarious that I would even think to make this, since I have long abhorred copious amounts of mayonnaise, particularly salads swimming in copious amounts of mayonnaise-based dressings. But then, I’ve long abhorred runny eggs, and we all know I’m over that one. Plus, it turns out that kale will admirably withstand whatever rich thing you want to drench it with. I actually started out with a modest amount of dressing here, but ended up using the whole batch just to get the moisture and flavor levels I wanted into all the nooks and crannies in the leaves. And it was delicious.

I had some homemade mayonnaise left over from making fish cakes with tartar sauce (and later some BLTs, where the mayo really shone, so I’ll probably be making batches of it all summer long). I had a newfound love of kale salad and newfound egg-poaching skillz. And I had this Dinner With Julie post bookmarked. The kale got shredded, the mayo got blended with generous quantities of garlic, lemon, pepper, and cheese (I had leftover Pecorino from my previous kale salad, so I used that instead of Parmesan), the prosciutto got crisped (I’d never done this, but consider me a convert—it’s so fun to watch as it shrivels in the skillet, and so much faster, easier, and less greasy than bacon), and the eggs got poached (perfectly, I must say), then the whole glorious mess got mixed together and devoured.

Despite all the porky, creamy, eggy ooziness here, it still feels like a light meal (we ate it as a main dish, with two eggs per serving; if you want it as a side, you could use one egg or none), and the grassy greenness of the kale shines through. I certainly won’t be eating this every day or even every month, but it’s an excellent use of leftover homemade mayonnaise. (I assume that you could substitute storebought, but if you must, I don’t want to know about it. I’m not far enough from my old mayo-hating days to contemplate that.) Oh kale, is there anything you can’t do?

I’m afraid I kind of winged this without paying too much attention to measurements, so I can’t give you an exact recipe for the dressing. Just keep tasting and you’ll get there.

Homemade mayonnaise (I probably had about ½ to ⅔ cup)
Juice of 1 lemon
1 medium garlic clove, peeled and smashed
Black pepper to taste
Freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano cheese to taste
1 bunch Tuscan kale
A little olive oil or cooking spray (optional)
8 slices prosciutto
4–8 eggs (optional)

1. In a small bowl, combine the mayonnaise, lemon juice to taste, garlic, pepper to taste, and cheese to taste. Blend with an immersion blender until smooth (you might be able to do this with a small food processor as well, but I can’t vouch for it; in a pinch, you could probably just mince your garlic and shred your cheese super-finely, then stir everything together in a bowl). Taste and add more lemon juice, pepper, or cheese if needed.

2. Remove the ribs from the kale and discard, and then slice the kale leaves into ribbons and place in a large bowl.

3. Heat a skillet over medium heat and add a tiny amount of olive oil or cooking spray, just to barely coat the pan—or if you have a nonstick skillet, you might be able to do without any oil, because the prosciutto will produce a small amount of grease as it cooks. Set the prosciutto slices in the pan (flat and apart from each other, as you would with bacon) and cook, turning as necessary, until browned and crisp (it should only take a few minutes). Remove from skillet and set aside on a paper towel.

4. Add the dressing to the kale gradually, tossing very well to coat the leaves, until you have the desired amount of coverage (you may or may not use all the dressing). Divide the kale between four serving bowls. Place two slices of crisp prosciutto atop each serving (I like to crumble them a bit with my hands so the pieces aren’t huge). If desired, poach or fry one to two eggs per serving and set them atop the salads.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: OK. The dressed kale will stay unwilted for at least a day, maybe longer. Obviously, you’ll need to freshly poach/fry eggs for the leftover servings—they won’t keep in the fridge. I also waited to cook the second set of four prosciutto slices before I served the leftovers, but I’m guessing that if you want to precook the prosciutto it’ll be OK the second day, maybe just less crispy.

ITALIAN WEDDING SOUP

I already have a recipe for a meatball soup, but this one from the Kitchn won me over with its kale (I can’t get enough kale!), and particularly with its promise of “cheesy egg ribbons.” It turns out that although those things are great, the meatballs are the real stars here. When I reached the “season to taste” step at the end of the cooking process, I kept tasting little sips of broth and worrying that it seemed a bit bland. I should have just tried one of the meatballs before I reached for the salt shaker again, because boy howdy they were packed with flavor. (Instead, I ended up oversalting the soup a little in my paranoia. Next time, I’ll either add some red pepper flakes with the onions and garlic, or just toss in a bit of extra cheese at the end to help along the flavor of the broth. The lemon juice squeezed in at the end did give it some zip, but my lemon was small and my impulse would have been to use more if I had it.) For making the meatballs really sing, I credit the fresh oregano, and especially the last-minute addition of lemon zest I decided upon after seeing it casually mentioned in the post that accompanied the original recipe. (In fact, I think the lemon zest should be mandatory; it was my favorite part!) The soup as a whole was just dandy, nicely brothy, slightly creamy, and packed with greens, but every time I bit into one of the meatballs it took everything up another level. As its name suggests, this soup is an excellent marriage of elements, warm and comforting enough for winter but light and perky enough for spring, and balanced enough to please both carnivores (A) and vegetable lovers (me). Even though my soup repertoire is growing lengthy, there’s definitely a place in it for this.

¾ pound ground pork (or chicken, turkey, or beef)
½ cup dry breadcrumbs (I used panko)
3 large eggs
½ cup grated Romano cheese, divided
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 teaspoon salt, plus extra to taste
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus extra to taste
Grated zest and freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
2–3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
8 cups chicken stock
1 bunch kale (I used Tuscan) or other greens (such as chard or escarole), trimmed and torn into bite-sized pieces (about 6 lightly packed cups)

1. Combine the ground meat, breadcrumbs, 1 egg, ¼ cup of each cheese, oregano, 1 teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon pepper, and lemon zest in a bowl. Mix thoroughly, then form the mixture into ¾-inch balls. You should have at least 30 meatballs, depending on how large you form them.

2. In a large skillet, heat 1–2 tablespoons oil (depending on the fattiness of your meat; 1 tablespoon was plenty for my pork, but you might want more for a leaner meat such as turkey) over medium-high heat. Add the meatballs in batches, and cook, turning, until browned all over, 3 to 5 minutes. (If they are still a bit pink in the middle, don’t worry; they will continue to cook in the broth.) Remove them from the skillet with a slotted spoon and set them aside on paper towels to absorb excess oil.

3. In a 4-to-6-quart soup pot, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until onions are tender and garlic is soft, but not browned, about 5 minutes. Add the stock and bring to a boil. Add the greens, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the meatballs and cook another 5 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, combine remaining 2 eggs and remaining cheeses in small bowl and stir with a fork to blend. Slow pour the egg mixture into hot soup, stirring constantly in one direction. Cover and simmer just until egg bits are set, about 1 minute. Stir in lemon juice, salt, and pepper to taste.

Serves: 6 to 8
Time: 1½ hours (The soup-making part doesn’t take long, but I find it time-consuming to form meatballs; maybe you can do it faster. If you made the meatballs ahead of time and froze them, this could be a very quick and easy weeknight meal.)
Leftover potential: Great.

LEMON PEPPER CASHEWS

I’m so proud of these—maybe even prouder than I am of my newfound egg-poaching ability, because I made up this recipe myself! I’d spotted and bookmarked a lemon-pepper cashew recipe ages ago, and ever since then, the lovely concept had been taking root in my imagination and appetite. I love lemon, I love pepper, and I love cashews, and I know I love at least two of them at the same time—in fact, Trader Joe’s used to carry black pepper cashews that I adored. But when I finally decided it was time to make them, I took a closer look at the recipe and found that it was laden with sugar: a whopping ¼ cup of the stuff for just 1 cup of cashews! I’m sure it was delicious, but as I’ve discussed before, I like to save sweetness for dessert, not snacktime, and I’m only in the market for sweet/spicy/savory roasted-nut recipes, which are surprisingly hard to come by. I launched a Web search for other lemon pepper cashew recipes, but most of the ones I found were just the same recipe all over again, except for a small minority that employed storebought lemon pepper seasoning instead, which: no. I live in Southern California and I’m going to use fresh lemons, damnit.

What I wanted was something exactly like the chili lime peanut recipe I’d recently fallen for, but with cashews instead of peanuts, lemon zest and juice instead of lime, and black pepper instead of chili powder. So…why didn’t I just adapt it myself? It sounds simple, but if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time you’ll know that I don’t exactly work off-recipe very well. I might add another garlic clove here and substitute feta for goat cheese there, but it’s rare that I build anything from the ground up. Still, since I was desperate for lemon pepper cashews and couldn’t find any recipe that would do, I took matters into my own hands, figured out the proportions, and got to work. The entire time, I was convinced that it wouldn’t succeed, so imagine my shock when I tasted my first cashew and it was wonderful—intensely lemony, spicily peppery, addictively crunchy, with just the right undertones of salt and sugar. Be forewarned: these are quite bold and zesty. (The lemon flavor is maybe even stronger than the pepper; I used the zest of two lemons because I was juicing another lemon anyway for another recipe, but feel free to cut back to just one lemon if you aren’t a fanatic.) But they were also a hit with all those who tried them (my highly scientific sampling group of three: me, A, and A’s friend), and A declared them even better than the original chili lime version. These are going to be a frequent snack at our house, I know.

Now I feel I should round out the citrus-nut trifecta by adapting this recipe one more time to use oranges. Orange curry almonds? Orange cinnamon pecans? Hmm….

Freshly grated zest of 1–2 lemons
¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
4 teaspoons freshly, coarsely ground black pepper
1 pound unsalted cashews

1. Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

2. Whisk lemon zest, lemon juice, salt, sugar, and pepper together in a large bowl. Add cashews and stir until evenly coated.

3. Scrape nuts onto a large, rimmed baking sheet (line with parchment if desired, for ease in cleanup). Bake until nuts are fragrant, dry, and beginning to darken, about 30 minutes.

Serves: About 16
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Excellent; will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for at least a week

COCONUT CHOCOLATE PUDDING

After taking a short hiatus, my pudding obsession is slowly creeping back again! I’ve also been on quite a coconut kick lately, from various curried soups to experimentation with coconut oil (Have you tried it yet? It’s pretty exciting so far—I’ve used it in granola, banana cake, and curried coconut carrot soup, all with excellent results). So naturally this recipe from A Cozy Kitchen jumped to the top of my list, because coconut and chocolate is a combination I can never resist (it even rivals chocolate and peanut butter as my all-time fave). Replacing the usual dairy with coconut milk and skipping the eggs makes it vegan, which isn’t necessarily something I was looking for, but it’s always nice to have a few tricks up your sleeve in case friends with special dietary needs come calling. For me, it was convenient because I could still have pudding when the craving struck, even though I didn’t happen to have any extra eggs or milk in the fridge that week. I was slightly suspicious about the lack of eggs (every other pudding I’ve made has used them) and the use of maple syrup as a sweetener (hippies!), but sure enough, the pudding thickened up just fine and the maple flavor was undetectable, although I’m sure you could use an equivalent amount of regular white sugar if you prefer it. When I tasted the pudding after cooking it didn’t seem very sweet, which worried me a little, but after chilling it was perfectly well balanced and, as if there was any doubt, extremely delicious. It was also even quicker and easier than making regular pudding, if such a thing is possible, because you don’t have to temper the eggs or worry about the milk boiling or scalding—coconut milk seems much less temperamental than cow’s.

I usually avoid the Trader Joe’s coconut milk because the only kind they sell is “light” and it’s very watery, but a note in the original recipe assured me it would work OK and it did. The coconut milk imparts only a subtle flavor, which is great for people who are primarily looking for a vegan chocolate pudding, but if what you want is a true Mounds-bar effect, I’d recommend helping it along with a bit of coconut extract, as I did. Otherwise, the only change I wish I’d made was to sift or strain my cocoa and cornstarch together, because my finished pudding had a few lumps, so I added instructions to do this below.

1 14-ounce can coconut milk (light is fine), divided
3 tablespoons pure maple syrup
A pinch of salt
¼ cup cornstarch
3 tablespoons cocoa powder
½ cup semisweet chocolate chips
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼–½ teaspoon coconut extract (optional)

1. Shake the can of coconut milk vigorously for a few seconds before opening. In a heavy saucepan, bring 1¼ cups coconut milk, the maple syrup, and the salt to a simmer over medium heat.

2. While that is heating, in a separate bowl sift together the cornstarch and the cocoa powder, then whisk in the remaining coconut milk until the mixture is smooth.

3. When the coconut milk and maple syrup mixture has just started simmering, turn the heat down to low. Slowly add in the cocoa mixture while vigorously whisking the whole time. Keep whisking until the pudding thickens up a bit, about a minute.

4. Remove the saucepan from the heat and continue whisking for about a minute while it cools slightly. Whisk in the chocolate chips and vanilla and keep stirring until the pudding is smooth. Transfer to small bowls and chill thoroughly in the refrigerator. (If you want to prevent a skin from forming, press plastic up against the surface of the pudding.)

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: Good for a few days.

CREAMED CHICKEN V2.0

I made creamed chicken a couple of weeks ago and realized that the recipe I have in my recipe book no longer matches the one I’ve got posted here. At some point, I’d made the decision to return to something closer to my mom’s version, and I’d completely forgotten to tell you. With its carrots and green beans and corn and celery, my earlier take on it was colorful and plenty tasty, but too similar to my chicken noodle soup, and ultimately, not what I pictured when I thought about creamed chicken. To me, creamed chicken is inherently simple, soft, comforting, maybe even a bit bland—“nursery food,” as Laurie Colwin put it. So I went back to basics, although I did make a few updates to Mom’s recipe to suit my tastes, using fresh mushrooms instead of canned, and adding onions, fresh thyme, and fresh parsley. As much as I love the other vegetables, I’m happy to eat them on the side in this case (green beans are ideal, but I went with roasted asparagus this time around). Heaped over split homemade biscuits, this meal tastes like love to me.

¼ cup butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, quartered or coarsely chopped
⅓ cup all-purpose flour
½–1 teaspoon salt (depending on how salty your broth is; my homemade stuff is saltless so I use the full teaspoon, but start with ½ teaspoon and add more later if needed)
1 teaspoon fresh or ½ teaspoon dried thyme
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1¼ cups chicken broth
1¼ cups milk
2 cups cubed cooked chicken
Chopped fresh parsley to taste

1. In a saucepan over medium heat, melt butter and cook onion and mushrooms until tender.

2. Stir in flour, salt, thyme, and pepper and cook for about a minute.

3. Add broth and milk all at once. Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly. Stir in chicken and parsley.

4. Serve over biscuits or toast.

Serves: 4
Time: 25 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; also freezes well (obviously, don’t put it over the toast/biscuits until it’s time to eat, though)

KALE SALAD WITH PECORINO AND BREADCRUMBS

Yup, I’m on the kale salad bandwagon now. Tender young greens are all very well and good, but I’ve come to really respect the resilience of kale—how it can relax in its dressing for several days without wilting, and how its fresh grassy taste can stand up to whatever big, bold flavors you throw at it. In this Caesar-reminiscent recipe from Melissa Clark via Sassy Radish, we have the classic lemon vinaigrette, plus garlic, red pepper flakes, breadcrumbs, and plenty of cheese: yes please! I probably would have been head over heels for this if I hadn’t started my kale-salad version with an even niftier version a couple of weeks before, but we still enjoyed it tremendously.

I made the breadcrumbs the way the original recipe instructed, by toasting a whole slice of bread in oil in a skillet and then blitzing it in the food processor, but my processor is wimpy and my bread was perhaps sliced too thick, so the resulting crumbs varied crazily in size, from fine to croutonesque, and weren’t as crispy as I would have liked. I wished I had just done them my usual way, tearing the bread into coarse crumbs by hand and then frying them afterward, so that’s what I’ve written into the instructions below. Do whatever you like, obviously. I’m not the boss of you. But, you know, I do respectfully suggest that you try this salad, one way or another.

1 bunch Tuscan kale (also known as black or lacinato kale)
¼–½ cup coarse homemade breadcrumbs
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
¼ cup finely grated pecorino cheese, plus more for garnish
About 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
⅛ teaspoon red pepper flakes
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1. Remove the ribs from the kale and discard, and then slice the kale leaves into ¾-inch-wide ribbons (you should have 4 to 5 cups). Place kale in a large bowl.

2. Heat 1 tablespoon (or less) olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat and toast the breadcrumbs until crisp and golden. Remove from heat and set aside.

3. Place the chopped garlic clove in a small bowl, sprinkle with a little bit of coarse salt, let sit for a minute or two, and then use a fork to grind the garlic into a rough paste (or you can use a mortar and pestle). Add ¼ cup cheese, 3 tablespoons oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper flakes, and black pepper, and whisk to combine. Pour dressing over kale and toss very well to thoroughly coat all the leaves. (Because dressing will be thick. you will need to do a lot of tossing to accomplish this.)

4. Allow the salad to sit for 5 minutes, then serve topped with breadcrumbs, additional cheese, and a drizzle of oil if desired.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

WARM LENTIL SALAD WITH POACHED EGG

For once, I won’t be starting a post about lentils by talking about how I don’t really like them, because I wholeheartedly loved these. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever really eaten lentils outside of soup, and maybe the lentil-y flavor is less strong when the cooking water is drained away? Or maybe I’ve been converted to lentil love, the way I’ve slowly been won over by beans. Or maybe it doesn’t matter, because this recipe is just that awesome.

As soon as I spotted it at Dinner With Julie (how, I don’t know, because it’s two years old—I guess it was destiny, leading me through a random series of links?), I knew I had to make it right away. I’m not sure if it was the poached eggs that lured me in (probably; I’ve been craving them lately) or the bacon, but it seemed like just the kind of food I want more of right now: light and healthy and simple, but also warm and hearty and comforting. After years of resistance to main-dish salads, I’ve finally been won over by them, now that I understand that “salad” doesn’t always have to mean “lettuce laden with many toppings,” a la your average TGI- Friday’s-style chain restaurant. I’m not even sure what really makes this a salad and not just an entrée, seeing as it’s warm, has more lentils than greens, and doesn’t have a dressing. But who cares? It tastes wonderful. I ate it three days in a row last week, and I would happily make it again right now if I had the ingredients handy.

Also: WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT POACHED EGG. I’m so proud! I guess the third time’s the charm, because after having limited success with the whirlpool method (requires too much coordination) and the shallow-water-with-canning-ring method (results not fluffy enough), I finally found a nearly foolproof egg-poaching recipe thanks to NPR. It’s a bit fussier, since it involves a fairly deep pot of water, draining the eggs in a mesh strainer for a few minutes to get rid of the thinner whites that otherwise tend to stray, adding vinegar to the water (I know this is controversial because some people claim they can taste the vinegar in the egg, but I couldn’t, and it really does help get the whites more compact), and adding enough salt that the egg bobs to the surface when cooked instead of getting stuck to the bottom of the pot, but it was just the trick I needed to produce the handsome, puffy, perfectly cooked poached eggs of my dreams. It’s not magic, mind you. You still have to exercise the right combination of care and confidence when dropping the eggs into the water, and I have yet to perfect my technique completely. While I turned out two flawless specimens on the first go-round, during each of three subsequent attempts over the course of the week I choked, dropped the egg too fast or too slow or from too great a height, and produced some homelier (but still tasty!) blobs. Luckily, I think practice will eventually make perfect, and I have no aversion to practice if it means I get to eat more lentil salad along the way.

With one egg on top, this salad will make a generous side dish to a modest portion of meat (pork would be nice) or some other entrée, but with two eggs per serving, it makes the perfect main dish for lunch or a light dinner, which is how we ate it. I liked Julie’s adaptation (the original recipe is from dearly departed Gourmet) of mixing the spinach into the lentils to wilt rather than scattering the raw leaves on top (which sounds odd to me), but I think it needs more spinach than just 1 cup. I threw a bit extra into the mix, but since it cooks down so small, I ended up increasing the spinach further—and making the dish more traditionally salad-like—by serving the leftover portions on a bed of raw leaves, which I liked. The more greens the merrier, I always say. I did run out of red wine vinegar after just 1 tablespoon, so I supplemented with balsamic; I worried this would be a weird taste combo, but then I couldn’t taste either vinegar in the finished dish, although I’m sure they added a little something. My only other change was to use thyme instead of tarragon, because I hate tarragon (I think I got this idea from the Epicurious comments). I nearly forgot the thyme entirely, but I’m so glad I didn’t because it really took the flavors up a notch. Oh, and although the original recipe said to saute them for just 5 minutes, I did think my carrots were a tad crunchier than I’d have liked, so I’ll cook them longer next time.

Finally, I just have to give props to the way Julie begins her post about this salad: “Have you ever panicked that there is just so much food and so little time?... THERE IS JUST SO MUCH TO EAT AND ONLY SO MANY DAYS IN A WEEK AND HOURS IN A DAY! AND MONTHS IN A YEAR! EVERY DAY I HAVE TO DECIDE! I’M NOT GOING TO HAVE TIME TO EAT IT ALL! THE MATH JUST DOESN’T ADD UP!” Oh, yes. Constantly. And every time I discover a favorite recipe like this one, that feeling only gets worse. But I suppose it’s a good problem to have, right?

¾ cup dried lentils (I used French green lentils)
4 slices bacon, chopped
2 leeks (white and pale green parts only), finely chopped
2 celery ribs, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, or to taste
1–2 cups baby spinach
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
Salt and pepper to taste
4–8 large eggs

1. In a small saucepan, cover lentils with about twice as much water, bring to a simmer, and cook uncovered for about 30 minutes, or until just tender. (You can do this ahead of time and keep them in the fridge until you’re ready for them.)

2. While the lentils are simmering, cook the bacon until crisp in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat; transfer with a slotted spoon to a plate, leaving the drippings in the skillet. Add the leeks, celery, and carrot and cook, stirring often, for about 5–10 minutes or until tender. Add vinegar and cook until it’s mostly evaporated. Drain the lentils well and add them to the skillet along with the spinach and thyme; cook, stirring, until heated through and the spinach wilts. Season with salt and pepper and stir in the bacon.

3. Meanwhile, poach your eggs. Divide the warm lentil salad among 4 plates and top each with one or two eggs.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good for the salad, but don’t try to keep the poached eggs; just poach enough for whatever you’re going to eat right away, then poach more right before reheating the leftovers.

BAKED PASTA WITH SQUASH, KALE, AND BACON

That’s right, it’s squash and kale, together yet again! What can I say? I’m insatiable, and shockingly, I didn’t already have a recipe that utilized this great combo in pasta form. Add bacon and crème fraiche and I can’t say no. Amazingly, this indulgent-seeming concoction comes to us from Cooking Light. It’s heavy on the veggies and light on the pasta (despite my hatred of not using the full 1-pound package and having random pasta remnants left over in my cupboard, I did follow the directions to use just 12 ounces and it was plenty of food), strategically using small amounts of bacon and Gruyere to deliver big flavor. Of course, if you were to increase the bacon and Gruyere just a bit, you wouldn’t be the only one to do so, judging from the comments and my own experience.

I’m not going to lie: This thing is a hassle to make. You have to roast squash, sauté bacon and onions, boil pasta and kale, and make the sauce all in separate steps, then combine everything and stick it into the oven. Unless you live in a palace, you will use every square inch of stovetop and counter space and dirty a frightening number of dishes. I wouldn’t attempt this on a weeknight, and it won’t even be a regular go-to dish. But I guarantee you, it’s worth the trouble. None of the techniques are difficult and the result is exceedingly tasty, with a good balance of sweetness and salt and smokiness and spice. The sauce is rich and creamy, but thanks to the colorful assortment of vegetables, it doesn’t feel heavy. This is a great way to tempt the kale-phobic, or just to dress up your winter veggies as comfort food.

5 cups (½-inch) cubed, peeled butternut squash
1 tablespoon olive oil
2–4 slices bacon, diced
2 cups vertically sliced onion
1 teaspoon salt, divided
5 garlic cloves, minced
12 ounces uncooked penne or other tube-shaped pasta
4 cups chopped kale
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, divided
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper
1 cup crème fraîche
½–¾ cup shredded Gruyère cheese

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Combine squash and oil in a large bowl; toss well. Arrange squash mixture in a single layer on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper (or coated with cooking spray). Bake for 30 minutes or until squash is tender; remove squash from oven and set aside, but leave oven on.

3. Meanwhile, cook bacon in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat until crisp. Remove bacon from pan with a slotted spoon and drain on a paper towel-lined plate. Add onion to drippings in pan; cook 6 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add ½ teaspoon salt and garlic; cook 1 minute, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and set aside.

4. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add pasta and cook until almost al dente. Add kale to pan during last 2 minutes of cooking. Drain pasta mixture.

5. Bring 1¾ cups broth to a boil in a small saucepan. Combine remaining ¼ cup broth and flour in a small bowl, stirring with a whisk. Add flour mixture, remaining ½ teaspoon salt, and red pepper to broth. Cook for 2 minutes or until slightly thickened. Remove from heat; stir in crème fraîche.

6. Add squash, pasta mixture, bacon, and sauce to the skillet with the onion mixture (or combine everything in a large bowl if the skillet isn’t big enough) and toss gently. Place pasta mixture in a 13 x 9-inch glass or ceramic baking dish coated with cooking spray; sprinkle evenly with cheese. Bake for 25 minutes or until bubbly and slightly browned.

Serves: 6 to 8
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: High.

SPINACH, MUSHROOM, AND FETA PIZZA

Last fall, I attempted an improvised spinach, mushroom, and feta pizza inspired by one I saw on TV. It was good, but unbalanced because I vastly underestimated how much spinach to use. That old shrinks-when-you-cook-it trick gets me every time! This is why I don’t cook without recipes, people. But recently I realized that the answer to this conundrum was right under my nose, in the form of a recipe for spinach and feta pizza I’d bookmarked months before at Eggs on Sunday (the source of so many of my favorite pizza recipes). This recipe very cleverly amps up the spinach volume by making it into a pesto—which also provides a hit of garlic (so nice with spinach and mushrooms) and a nice sauce-like element that is often missing from non-marinara-based pizzas. All I had to do was follow the directions, add in some mushrooms, and voila! I had the spinach-mushroom-feta pizza of my dreams.

I bought the biggest bag of spinach at Trader Joe’s, 12 ounces, and then felt compelled to use it all on the pizza so it didn’t go to waste, and although it was a great way to get my greens for the day, I probably could have eased up on it slightly. I had the right amount of pesto (I can’t report on exact quantities; it was just as much as I could fit in my tiny food processor), but I went a bit overboard on the sauteed spinach. I do like my pizza toppings applied with a generous hands (more vegetables = always a good thing), but I’m guessing 9 or 10 ounces might have been a happier medium. I briefly sautéed my mushrooms before adding them to the pizza, because I like them that way (they tend to do that incredible-shrinking-ingredient act too, so if you shrink them down a bit first you can fit more of them on the pizza) and I’m still using that pizza-on-the-stovetop method that I really need to tell you about sometime, and this ensures that they get fully tender even though the pizza doesn’t spend much time in the oven), but do what you like. Either way, I promise this will be delicious.

1 pound pizza dough
1 large bunch spinach, rinsed and spun dry (about 9 to 12 ounces)
1 garlic clove
¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese
Olive oil to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced
About ¾ cup grated mozzarella cheese
4 to 6 ounces crumbled feta cheese

1. Take about half of the spinach, cut off and discard the stems, and place the leaves in the bowl of a food processor or blender. Add the garlic clove and Parmesan and process until finely chopped. Drizzle in a few tablespoons of olive oil and blend, continuing to add olive oil until the pesto reaches the consistency you like; it should be spreadable but not too liquidy. Season with salt and pepper, and set aside.

2. Cut the stems off the remaining half of the spinach leaves, and sauté that spinach in a little olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat until wilted. Remove to a cutting board, let cool slightly, and coarsely chop.

3. Optionally, heat a little more olive oil in the same skillet (once the spinach has been removed) and sauté the mushrooms until they have softened and shrunk a bit.

4. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Stretch out your pizza dough and lay it out on a baking sheet that’s been generously dusted with cornmeal.

5. Spread the spinach pesto on the pizza dough (you may not use all of it, but if you have extra, it freezes well), then top with the mozzarella, mushrooms, chopped sauteed spinach, and crumbled feta.

6. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until the crust is browned and the cheese is melted.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good

KALE SALAD WITH SQUASH, CHEDDAR, AND ALMONDS

As avid a kale fan as I am, can you believe that this was my first time trying it raw? I hadn’t been deliberately avoiding it, but now I’m regretting not trying it sooner, because I’m head over heels. This—from Northern Spy Food Co. in NYC via Food52—was a particularly excellent choice as an inaugural recipe, since it pairs kale with squash and lemon, the usual suspect, but also with aged cheddar and almonds, which are a bit more surprising. I was in it for the cheddar and kale and squash, in that order, and thought the almonds looked unnecessary, but I’m so glad I left them in because the combination of flavors and textures was really amazing. (The original recipe called for optional shaved Pecorino, as well, and I halfheartedly threw a few fragments of Parmesan on there, but it’s totally superfluous; the cheddar provides all the sharp creaminess this salad needs, and I won’t bother with the second cheese in the future.) If you’re suspicious of raw kale, this will be your gateway drug, and if you’re already an old hand at kale salads, this will probably shake up your usual routine.

As a bonus, the cheese and nuts add enough protein to make this light vitamin powerhouse feel quite filling. Unsure how much salad the recipe would yield or how much we’d like it, I served this alongside white beans with sausage and tomatoes, and while the two dishes complemented each other nicely, it was almost too much food. The salad portions were generous, and I think that with some fruit (pears spring to mind) and maybe some bread, this would make a lovely lunch or light dinner all on its own. I’d still serve it as a side again, but alongside a smaller main course, like soup, or a single piece of chicken.

Oh, and the leftovers are magical! Usually when I have salad leftovers I painstakingly store each component separately—greens in one container, toppings in another, dressing in a third, and so on—to prevent wilting and sogginess, until I have a teetering tower of Tupperware in the fridge. Kale is so hardy, though, that you can dress it one night and find it totally unchanged the next day. A ate his leftovers several days later and reported them still good. That makes this a perfect salad to take to work, without having to corral and tote a dozen little bowls in your lunchbag.

I couldn’t find Cabot clothbound cheddar, but I picked out some Old Quebec vintage cheddar at random from Whole Foods’ bewildering cheese selection, and it was plenty delicious. And although I’m usually not one for kitchen tips and tricks, I read somewhere that a pizza cutter is the perfect tool for trimming the ribs off of kale, and I must testify that I tried it and it works wonderfully, especially with the flat, narrow Tuscan leaves. (It also does a great job of slicing the leaves into ribbons once you’ve removed the ribs.) The more you know!

1 cup cubed butternut or other winter squash
4½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large bunch Tuscan (aka lacinato or dinosaur) kale, ribs removed and discarded, leaves finely sliced, about 5 cups
½ cup almonds, cut roughly in half
½ cup crumbled or finely chopped Cabot clothbound cheddar (or any other good, aged cheddar)
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Toss squash cubes ½ tablespoon olive oil, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spread on a baking sheet (line with parchment for easier cleanup), leaving space between the cubes. Roast until tender and caramelized, about 40 minutes, tossing with a spatula every 10 to 15 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool slightly, leaving the oven on.

2. Toast the almonds on a baking sheet (I just used the same baking sheet, after removing the roasted squash) in the oven until they start to smell nutty, tossing once, about 10 minutes. Let cool.

3. In a large mixing bowl, toss the kale with the almonds, cheddar, and squash. Add lemon juice and olive oil, season to taste with salt and pepper, and toss well.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Surprisingly good.

WHITE BEANS WITH SAUSAGE AND TOMATOES

Genius: Beans + sausage + cherry tomatoes + aromatics + oven = a simple version of cassoulet. Hearty but not heavy, comforting, flavorful, and oh so easy, this is the best kind of winter one-dish meal. Just toss some stuff in a pan, throw it in the oven while you relax, put the crusty, bubbling, richly fragrant dish on the table with a green salad and maybe some bread, and let the compliments roll in.

The recipe is from chef Pam Anderson (not to be confused with Baywatch Pam Anderson, although I’m sure she gets that all the time, poor woman), via The Merry Gourmet via Dinner With Julie, where I spotted it and instantly fell in love. My rendition falls somewhere between the original and Julie’s halved, slightly streamlined version. The quantities are flexible; I used 1½ pints tomatoes and 4 largish sausages, but go ahead and adjust to your tastes. I did find that my casserole was looking a bit drier than I’d like near the end of cooking, maybe because I used cooked dry beans (I had some that needed to be used up) instead of canned, so I had a brainwave and dumped in a splash of white wine to loosen things up and then put it back in the oven long enough for the alcohol to burn off. I noticed that the original version called for the canned beans to be undrained, whereas Julie’s version has you drain and rinse them. In general, I prefer to get rid of that odd, salty solution, but perhaps it would have taken care of the dryness situation. In my case, I could have used some of the bean cooking liquid if I’d had the presence of mind to keep it around, but the wine produced such an excellent flavor boost that I’m going to recommend it if you have some handy. Also, be sure to use the best sausage you can find, since it takes center stage here; I love a lot of the different flavors of Trader Joe’s precooked chicken sausages (the Cajun andouille is my go-to spicy), but their Italian sausage is just OK, so I sprang for big hot Italian pork sausages from the Whole Foods meat counter (they apparently grind and season their own sausage at each store; who knew?) and was quite pleased with it. When everything was finished cooking, I took the sausages out of the bean mixture and sliced them, then set them atop each serving, just for ease of eating. But do whatever you want; it’s that kind of party.

1 to 2 pints cherry or grape tomatoes
4 to 6 fresh sweet or hot Italian sausages
1 medium onion, cut into eighths
4 large garlic cloves, sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
Leaves from a few sprigs of fresh thyme or rosemary
1 to 2 bay leaves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 to 2 15-ounce cans white beans, rinsed and drained, or about 2 to 3 cups cooked dry beans
Dry white wine to taste (optional)

1. Adjust oven rack to lowest position and heat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Combine tomatoes, sausages, onion, garlic, olive oil, vinegar, thyme or rosemary, bay leaves, and a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper in a large heavy roasting pan or Dutch oven. Set pan in oven and roast until sausages are brown and tomatoes have broken down, about 45 minutes.

3. Remove pan from oven, stir in beans, and if the mixture looks a bit dry, add a little white wine, water, or bean can/cooking liquid. Continue to roast until casserole has heated through, about 10 to 20 minutes longer. Remove bay leaves before serving.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 75 minutes
Leftover potential: Good

CHILI LIME PEANUTS

Although I’m not a huge snacker, when my hunger pangs strike I tend to lose all capacity for rational thought, so I try to make sure I always have some quick and wholesome munchies on hand to restore my sanity between mealtimes. Nuts are the most satiating pick-me-up I’ve tried, but the plain ones can get a bit dull after a while. The Internet is rife with seasoned nut recipes, and I’ve been bookmarking them avidly for years, intending to spice up my snacking routine, but when I finally started sorting through them all, I realized that the majority fall on the sweet end of the flavor spectrum; even those that claim to be spicy have an equally strong dose of sugar. Candied nuts are great for special occasions (they make easy homemade holiday gifts, for instance), but they’re a bit much for every day.

It’s actually harder than I expected to find straight-up savory nut recipes. I do have a great one for rosemary cashews with only a couple of teaspoons of sugar, which I make every year at Christmas, but (a) those are so delicious that I can’t stop gobbling them, and nuts are only a healthy snack if you eat them in small quantities, and (b) I like the idea of having special recipes I only bring out once a year, so making them regularly would take away the magic. I tried another recipe that had promising-looking savory elements like Worcestershire sauce and an array of spices, and although it was definitely tasty, it was far too sweet and buttery to qualify as sensible emergency rations. Then I unearthed this recipe from Serious Eats, and it is absolutely perfect. There’s a tiny bit of sugar, but only enough to temper the sourness of the lime; the dominant flavor is spice. I’d been worried about the heat level, but it was just right for me—enough to bring a glow to my cheeks and make my mouth feel like something’s going on in there, but not so much that I need to eat them with a beverage clutched in my hand to put out the fire. (If your heat tolerance falls below “medium,” though, I’d recommend cutting back to ½ teaspoon cayenne for starters.) These zesty peanuts are definitely addictive, but not so much that I can’t resist shoving them all in my mouth, and the bold flavor excites my taste buds enough that even a moderate portion feels like a richly satisfying snack. Plus, they’re insanely easy to make, with only about 5 to 10 minutes of hands-on labor. I can’t wait to try them on a hot summer day, washed down by a cold beer—but they’re just as lovely when eaten out of a Tupperware container from my purse when I start to feel cranky and shaky while standing in a long checkout line at Kohl’s.

I doubled the lime zest, because I was juicing two limes anyway, so why just zest one of them? It probably wasn’t necessary, because the lime flavor comes through more clearly than you might expect, but I’m a citrus fiend and I enjoy that sort of thing. My seasoning-to-nut ratio was also a bit off, because I bought a 1-pound package of peanuts at Trader Joe’s that claimed to contain “about 16” quarter-cup servings, which I assumed would be approximately the 4 cups the recipe required. Upon taking them home and measuring them out myself, I learned that this is only true if you think that 3½ cups is “about” 4. But you know what? It turned out just fine, and I wouldn’t change a thing. These are going to be one of my go-to snacks from now on. If you don’t like peanuts or are allergic, I assume the recipe would work just as well with other nuts; I can’t wait to try it with cashews.

Freshly grated zest of 1–2 limes
¼ cup freshly squeezed lime juice (from 2–3 large limes)
2 tablespoons chili powder (I used half regular and half chipotle)
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
¾ teaspoon cayenne pepper
4 cups shelled, unsalted peanuts

1. Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

2. Whisk lime zest, lime juice, chili powder, salt, sugar, and cayenne pepper together in a large bowl. Add peanuts and stir until evenly coated.

3. Scrape nuts onto a large, rimmed baking sheet (line with parchment if desired, for ease in cleanup). Bake until nuts are fragrant, dry, and beginning to darken, about 30 minutes.

Yields: 4 cups (about 16 servings)
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Excellent; will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for at least a couple of weeks.

BUTTERMILK ROASTED CHICKEN

Sure, it’s fun to slather it in mustard or coat it in breadcrumbs or top it with complicated sauces, but sometimes you just want chicken that tastes like chicken, you know? Roasting a chicken is not hard, but sometimes you don’t feel like wrangling the whole damn bird (ugh, carving exhausts me), or maybe you only want your favorite parts (because I am young at heart, I dig the drumsticks). Yet you still want your chickeny chicken to be incredibly moist and flavorful, am I right? For those occasions, there is buttermilk chicken.

Adapted by the Smitten Kitchen from Nigella Lawson, this clever recipe takes the buttermilk brine that’s the secret to nearly every good fried chicken recipe and…doesn’t fry it. After a daylong soak in its salty, sweet, tangy, garlicky bath, the chicken gets tossed in a baking dish and thrown into the oven with absolutely no further effort from you—and the simple flavors mean that you can get away with serving pretty much anything as a side dish. It just may be the ultimate weeknight chicken dinner.

I’ll admit I was skeptical the whole way through; after a commenter pointed out the similarity, all I could think of when I looked at the raw chicken covered in creamy pink marinade was the Ramona book where the Quimby girls improvise a meal out of chicken, banana yogurt, and chili powder. But sure enough, the end result was some of the juiciest, most tender roasted chicken I’ve ever made.

2 cups buttermilk
5 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
1 tablespoon table salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1½ teaspoons paprika, plus extra for sprinkling (I used smoked paprika, which was tasty)
Lots of freshly ground black pepper
2½ to 3 pounds skin-on, bone-in chicken parts (I used all drumsticks)
Drizzle of olive oil
Flaked or coarse sea salt, to finish

1. In a large bowl, whisk buttermilk with garlic, table salt, sugar, paprika, and lots of freshly ground black pepper. Place chicken parts in a gallon-sized freezer bag or a lidded container and pour buttermilk brine over them, then swish it around so that all parts are covered. Refrigerate for 24 hours (that’s the optimal time, but in a pinch you can do as few as 2 hours and up to 48).

2. When ready to roast, preheat oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking dish with foil. Remove chicken from buttermilk brine and arrange in dish. Drizzle lightly with olive oil, then sprinkle with additional paprika and sea salt to taste. Roast for 30 to 40 minutes, until cooked through and browned.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes, plus 24 hours of brining
Leftover potential: OK.

ROASTED CARROTS AND PARSNIPS WITH FENNEL AND ORANGE

The Crispy Pork Medallions recipe was accompanied in Cooking Light by a basic roasted root vegetable medley, but that looked kind of boring. Still, I needed something to go with it and I love roasted vegetables, so I turned to Food Blog Search to see if it would bring me something more thrilling, and ding! This recipe from The Kitchn caught my eye immediately. I enjoyed a brief flirtation with roasted parsnips last winter, although I think it’s odd that I complained about them being hard to find, because they are plentiful at the farmers’ market right now; maybe they were out of season by March? If so, I’d better eat my weight in them right now, because I freakin’ love those ugly buggers. They’re not unlike carrots, but sweeter when cooked, with an addictive peppery undertone (Wikipedia describes this as “reminiscent of butterscotch, honey, and soft cardamom,” a description I’m not sure I would have come up with myself, but I adore all three of those things, so OK!) and the softer, buttery texture of sweet potatoes. The balsamic-glazed variety is still my favorite, but this one is a close runner-up, since it also has fennel, one of my other winter vegetable obsessions, plus carrots and oranges to brighten things up. The oranges are an especially nice touch; I generally hew towards lemon and lime when cooking with citrus, but oranges and carrots make very good friends. Roasting an orange felt strange, but it resulted in awesome flavor.

The first time I made this (yes, I’ve made it twice, along with the pork; I think these two recipes will become inextricably linked for me, because they really are perfect together) I followed the original recipe a bit too literally; I ended up with vegetable pieces that were too big and took too long to cook, which wasn’t helped by the fact that I had peeled and sliced my oranges, which meant they dissolved into puddles of juice and made my vegetables steam instead of getting crisp and brown. It all worked out in the end, but after practicing a second time I’ve made some changes: More parsnips, because they are awesome; smaller vegetable pieces; and oranges that are just quartered (as in this recipe, where I roast lemons) and then squeezed over the vegetables, once during roasting to create a glaze, and once just before serving for an extra burst of flavor. The result is a festival of warm, comforting, caramelized winter vegetables, with enough zips of color and citrus flavor to lift you out of the dark seasonal doldrums.

¾ pound carrots
¾ pound parsnips
1 medium fennel bulb
2 medium oranges
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon maple syrup (I recommend Grade B)
Coarse salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Peel the carrots and parsnips, or just scrub them well. Cut them in half crosswise and then into quarters (or, if they are large, eighths) lengthwise, so they are in uniform chunks (sticks about 2 to 4 inches long and ½ to 1 inch wide worked well for me). If the parsnips have a tough, woody center, cut it out.

3. Cut the fennel into wedges (I did eighths).

4. Wash the oranges and slice them into quarters.

5. In a large bowl, toss the carrots, parsnips, fennel, and oranges with the olive oil and maple syrup and season generously with salt and pepper. Spread out evenly on a large rimmed baking sheet (line with parchment or foil for easier cleanup).

6. Roast, turning occasionally, until tender and browned, about 30 minutes. Five minutes before the end of cooking, use a tongs to squeeze the juice from half of the orange pieces over the vegetables, tossing to coat; return baking sheet to oven and finish roasting.

7. Remove vegetables from oven, use a tongs to squeeze the remaining orange pieces over the vegetables (discard orange pieces after squeezing), season vegetables to taste, and serve.

Serves: 2-4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: OK; they reheat fine, if a bit less crisp, if you can manage not to scarf them all down immediately.

CRISPY PORK MEDALLIONS

Hey, pork! Even though I came of age in the late 1980s, during the heady days of the famous “The Other White Meat” campaign (“the fifth most memorable promotional tagline in the history of contemporary advertising”*), it never really occurs to me to eat whole cuts of pork. I’m not tempted to order it in restaurants; I’ve only prepared it once at home—and that was really just because I had some wild rice to use up. I use ground pork on occasion, and I love sausage and bacon and prosciutto and pulled pork and carnitas and all that jazz, so I have no problem with the flavor; I just don’t gravitate toward big pieces of meat (not even steaks) and at this point, eight years into a food blog, I’m rather embarrassed that I don’t know how to buy or cook pork. I’m not even sure what made me dogear the page of Cooking Light that featured this recipe, except that it looked easy and tasty and involved the now-apparently-omnipresent-in-my-kitchen combo of Dijon and panko breading. Plus, it looked like something A would like, and I figured he deserved a break from all that quinoa.

I did what I always do when I see something promising-looking in Cooking Light, which was to flag the page in the actual magazine, wait a couple of weeks, and then go to the online version of the recipe to see what the ratings look like and whether there are any frequently-suggested tips, tricks, additions, or other edits. (There are a lot of loopy commenters out there, but in my experience, when nearly everyone says something like “Double the sauce” or “Halve the salt,” they’re usually on to something.) This one had a five-star rating with no real suggestions for improvement, which surprised me a bit because it looked so incredibly simple as to risk blandness. I figured it was time to take the plunge, so I went out and bought myself a pork tenderloin. And wow, those things are magical! Sure, they’re rather comically tubular, but they’re affordable ($4.99/pound at Trader Joe’s) and incredibly easy to deal with. The meat was moist and tender, and flavorful enough that I think I’d like it even if it weren’t enrobed in delicious mustard.

I’m not sure if I have a faulty meat thermometer (very likely) or I’m still getting used to my new oven or pork tenderloins vary or what, but I struggled just a bit making this even though the instructions are laughably straightforward. The first time, my pork simply refused to reach the correct temperature. Being so inexperienced as a pork cooker, I was paranoid about undercooking and ended up baking it more than twice as long as the recipe dictated. I’d gotten started later than I’d planned and the new side dish I was making also took much longer than expected, so by the time my pork finally registered 145 degrees, at about 9:30 on a Sunday night, I was thoroughly Over It. So convinced was I that the entire meal was going to be a disaster that I didn’t even take photos. Then, of course, everything was delicious, so I had to turn around and make it again so I could get photos for this site. The second time, I approached it with a Zen “this will take however long it takes” attitude, and I managed to overcook the pork—it was still just as tasty as ever, just a bit on the dry side. I’m contemplating sticking to 8 minutes next time, no matter what the thermometer says. But these are small matters; the important thing is that this recipe manages to get a lot of flavor out of just a few ingredients and a simple cooking technique. Also, I am now officially interested in pork, so pigs, hide your tenderloins! I’m off to troll the food sites for recipes.

*Hilariously to me, the National Pork Board now refers to “The Other White Meat” as its “heritage brand,” having switched to the vague and tepid motto “Be Inspired.”

2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 pound pork tenderloin, trimmed and cut into 8 medallions
½ cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
¼ teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Rub mustard evenly over pork medallions. Combine panko, thyme, parsley, salt, and pepper in a large bowl.

3. Heat a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat. Add oil to pan; swirl to coat.

4. When skillet is hot, dredge pork medallions one by one in panko mixture and add them to the skillet. Sauté 2 minutes or until golden brown on the bottom. Turn pork over, then place skillet in oven and bake for 8 minutes or until pork reaches an internal temperature of 145 degrees. Let stand 3 minutes before serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, although breadcrumbs will not remain crisp.

KALE AND BUTTERNUT SQUASH PIZZA

Butternut squash and kale are like the peanut butter and jelly of the winter-vegetable world; the sweetness of the squash complements the bitterness of the kale so perfectly that as soon as I see one in a recipe, I always look for the other. Plus their colors look great together! So I’m a bit surprised that it took me so long to put them both on a pizza. I have kale pizzas and I have squash pizzas, but never have the twain met until now. Apparently I’d been secretly craving it, though, because I realized that I’d bookmarked two nearly identical pizza recipes—one with sweet potatoes and the other with squash—in the span of a couple of weeks. A hasn’t been wild about the sweet potato pizzas I’ve made in the past, so this squash version from The Way the Cookie Crumbles won out.

There’s nothing too surprising here—the squash is roasted with red onions, a nice touch, while the kale gets sautéed with garlic, also nice, and then they both get cozy together under a blanket of cheese. The only change I made was, upon stumbling on an orphaned cheese remnant in the fridge and remembering how well a sharper cheese worked on my last squash pizza—to swap in Gruyere for half of the mozzarella. It definitely made a good pizza even better, so I’m memorializing it in my adaptation of the recipe below.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of trying new pizza-topping combinations. I’m making up for 20 years of being strictly a plain cheese pizza eater.

1 pound pizza dough
1½ tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into bite-sized cubes (you could also use another kind of similarly textured winter squash, like acorn or delicata)
2 small red onions, cut into wedges
1 medium bunch kale, cut in thin ribbons
2 garlic cloves, sliced
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1 cup shredded Gruyere or Asiago cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

2. Transfer the squash and onions to a large baking sheet; season with a generous pinch of salt and pepper and coat with 1 tablespoon oil. Bake, stirring once halfway through, until softened and browned, about 30 minutes. Remove from oven and increase heat to 450 degrees.

3. Meanwhile, heat the remaining ½ tablespoon oil with the garlic in a large skillet. Add the kale and a pinch of salt; cook, stirring constantly, until wilted, about 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

4. Roll out the dough and place it on a baking sheet coated with cornmeal or olive oil.

5. Top the dough with the roasted vegetables, kale, and cheese. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until the crust is browned around the edges.

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

QUINOA FRITTERS WITH POACHED EGGS

The more quinoa I eat, the more I love it. Unfortunately, after an initial favorable response, A seems to like quinoa less and less every time I serve it, no matter how alluringly it’s prepared. He tolerates it, but unenthusiastically, and I’m stuck with all the leftovers. The man does love fritters, though, as do I, so when I saw this recipe for quinoa cakes at Annie’s Eats, I bookmarked it right away. In truth, I mainly fell in love with the photograph, which presented just the kind of colorful, healthy, light, simple-but-not-spartan food I feel like eating after ODing on holiday cookies. It didn’t hurt that the quinoa cake was crowned with a lovely poached egg, and after some early skepticism about them (I was a runny-yolk-phobe for years), I am becoming quite infatuated with poached eggs, to the point that I’ve started craving them. Never mind that I’d never made one before; it’s a new year and time to face new challenges! As a bonus, maybe I could interest A in quinoa if it was packaged in a different format, or at least placate him about the fact that I was trying yet another new quinoa recipe. (I presented them as “fritters” instead of “cakes” because I thought it would attract him more, but as you’ll see below, “fritter” also turned out to be the more accurate term for my rendition.)

I’m so glad I took the plunge, because first of all, quinoa tastes great when it’s formed into a patty with cheese, herbs, and seasonings and pan-fried until crispy and browned. A devoured his happily, declaring it to be his favorite quinoa preparation by far (this may be damning with faint praise, but I’ll take it), and even ate the leftovers the next day without prompting. I had a little trouble executing the original recipe as written; it said I should be able to form the quinoa mixture into patties before placing it in the skillet, but mine was so wet and loose there was no way that was going to happen. I noticed that a few of the recipe commenters had also encountered this, and some had increased the quantity of breadcrumbs to thicken the mixture, but I didn’t feel like making more (since the recipe didn’t specify whether they should be dry or fresh*, I had made fresh ones out of some stale bread). So I did what I always do with my troublesome falafel recipe and treated it like a fritter, dolloping the batter into the hot oil with a measuring cup. I’ll admit that little pieces of quinoa crumbled everywhere when I tried to press the dollops into rough patty shapes, and I thought for sure we’d end up eating some sort of pan-fried quinoa hash-like mess, but luckily the eggs worked their magic, and by the time the patties had gotten nice and brown on their undersides (probably overbrowned, as you can see in the photo, because I was so scared about what was going to happen when I tried to turn them over that I kept delaying the inevitable and letting them get good and firm, but luckily overbrowned quinoa still tastes good, maybe even better for all I know), the cakes were holding together well enough to be flipped over without coming apart. And the little scattered crumbs of quinoa in the pan made a great snack for the chef; quinoa develops the most addictive nutty flavor and crunchy-chewy texture when fried, which is what really makes this recipe wonderful.

*Just today, I looked back at the recipe comments and saw that someone had asked which kind of breadcrumbs to use, and Annie had replied that she used dried ones—specifically, panko. Perhaps if I’d done that, my patties would have been more like cakes and less like fritters, but I’m not sure how much I care, because once I’d overcome my initial anxiety that I’d bungled the recipe and made a giant mess, I liked them just the way they were, all blobby and unphotogenic—er, I mean, “rustic” and “free-form”—and most importantly, tasty. Next time I’ll try panko, though, just for comparison.

Also, poaching eggs turned out to be not as difficult as I’d feared, at least as long as you’re not a perfectionist. I’m not going to give you instructions on it yet, because I’m still honing my method—the first time I used this helpful tutorial from the Smitten Kitchen, but I’m not really coordinated enough to make that nice little whirlpool in the water and my eggs whites scattered a lot, so the second time I turned to Simply Recipes and employed canning jar rings (why not? I have so many!) to help the eggs stay in one place. This worked pretty niftily, but I didn’t really get that fluffy height so many of the best poached eggs have, plus the egg-encrusted rings are devilish to clean. Clearly more practice is needed, because I haven’t made a perfect poached egg yet; sometimes I overcook them a bit and sometimes I undercook them a bit, and most of the time they’re unsightly, but luckily, even an imperfect poached egg tastes great, so I’m not to worried. Once I’ve got it down to a science, I’ll let you know, but in the meantime, the experimentation is fun and tasty. I’m already daydreaming about other meals that could be topped off with eggs.

The original recipe directed you to make six patties, but I was pretty hungry, too impatient to go through frying two separate batches, and unsure how the quinoa cakes would reheat as leftovers (well, as it turns out), so I just made four. For us, one of these larger fritters turned out be the perfect quantity for one meal, so I’m sticking with four in the future. For a breakfast, brunch, or light lunch, you could serve the fritters atop some spinach or arugula; it adds some color and nutrients, and the egg yolk coats the greens delightfully. Since we were having these as a dinner entrée, I served a generous salad on the side instead.

½ cup uncooked quinoa
1 cup water
2 large eggs, plus 4 large eggs for poaching
½ teaspoon coarse salt, plus extra to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
⅓ cup minced fresh chives
2 large shallots, finely chopped
⅓ cup grated Parmesan cheese
3 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup breadcrumbs (I used fresh, but just discovered that the original recipe used dried, so…whatever)
2 tablespoons olive oil
Fresh arugula or spinach (optional)

1. Place quinoa in a fine-mesh strainer, rinse thoroughly with cold water, and drain. Place quinoa in a small saucepan with 1 cup water and a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer over low heat for 15 to 20 minutes, until all liquid is absorbed. Spread quinoa on a platter or baking sheet and let cool to room temperature. (You can do this up to a few days before making the fritters, if you want; just refrigerate in an airtight container until ready to use.)

2. In a medium bowl, lightly beat two eggs. Add the quinoa, ½ teaspoon salt, chives, shallots, Parmesan, and garlic, plus pepper to taste, and stir to blend. Mix in the breadcrumbs and stir gently until evenly incorporated.

3. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat and swirl to coat. When the oil is hot, press about one-quarter of the quinoa mixture tightly into a ½ cup dry measuring cup (it will be a heaping ½ cup) and then drop it out of the measuring cup into the skillet, pressing down slightly with the back of a spatula to form a patty. Repeat with the remaining quinoa mixture, for a total of four fritters. Let cook until the bottom side is well browned. Carefully flip the patties with a spatula and let the second side cook until golden brown.

4. While the fritters are cooking, poach four eggs.

5. Serve each fritters atop a bed of greens, if desired, and top each patty with a poached egg. Season with salt and pepper to taste; serve immediately.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: The fritters keep quite well in the refrigerator and, when reheated with a short zap in the microwave followed by a short stint in a dry skillet over medium heat to regain their outer crispness, are nearly as good as new. Poached eggs don’t keep at all, however, so if you plan to have leftovers, don’t poach the eggs for the leftover portions until it’s time to reheat the fritters.

QUINOA WITH ROASTED BROCCOLI, ARUGULA, AND FETA

Happy New Year! I know that at 19 days old, 2012 is already losing that new-year smell, but please suspend your disbelief…and try to graciously overlook the fact that I’m still catching up on posting recipes from the end of 2011. Luckily, this one fits in perfectly with the detox/diet/healthy eating narratives that dominate the food blogs—and, let’s face it, pretty much all media—every time January rolls around. (I love my fruits and vegetables, but if I see one more green smoothie recipe pop up in my Google Reader, I’m going to—well, strenuously roll my eyes, at least.) Sure, it’s lean and low-carb, packed full of greens and protein, but what drew me to this warm salad-ish dish at The Kitchen Sink Recipes was how thoroughly it combines nearly all my food obsessions into a single tidy package: Roasted vegetables, lemon, red pepper flakes, arugula, quinoa, feta, and mustard (my new bestie!) are all keywords that make me sit up and take notice when reading an ingredient list, so imagine my joy to see the whole passel of them hanging out together at one big party.

Not surprisingly, then, I loved this. A hasn’t taken to quinoa the way I have, and as much as I’d hoped he would like this one, I was secretly comforted by the thought that I’d have all the leftovers to myself. Light but filling, virtuous but boldly flavored, it makes a perfect workday lunch, and tastes equally good eaten warm or cold. I think there was maybe supposed to be red onion in the mix (the original post mentions it and I think I can spot it in the photos, but it’s left out of the recipe), but I didn’t miss it. The recipe is easy and straightforward; the only change I’d be tempted to make would be to add the zest of the lemon as well as the juice, for a little extra hit of citrus. Otherwise: perfection. If you haven’t tried quinoa yet, what are you waiting for? Make it your new year’s resolution, and start with this recipe.

POSTSCRIPT: I made this again last night, with the following additions: 1 small minced shallot and the grated zest of the lemon, both added to the Dijon-lemon juice mixture in Step 4. I'll definitely be including those in the recipe from now on.

1 cup quinoa
2 cups water
Kosher salt to taste
1 large head broccoli
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon coarse-grained Dijon mustard
1 lemon, freshly squeezed
2 cups baby arugula
¼ cup crumbled feta

1. Preheat oven to 475 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.

2. Place quinoa in a fine-mesh strainer, rinse thoroughly with cold water, and drain. Combine quinoa, water, and a big pinch of salt in a pot. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 20 to 25 minutes, until the quinoa has absorbed the water. Remove from heat and set aside (keep covered).

3. Meanwhile, prepare the broccoli. Cut the florets into bite-sized pieces Trim the woody end from the stalks, and, using a vegetable peeler, trim the tough outside layer from the stalks; slice the stalks into coins. Toss the florets and stalk slices in 1 tablespoon oil, a pinch of salt, and red pepper flakes. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes, until the broccoli is browned in spots.

4. In a large bowl, whisk together the mustard and lemon juice. Whisk in the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add the arugula. Add the quinoa and broccoli, when they are cooked, and toss to wilt the arugula and coat everything with dressing. Top with feta.

Serves: 3–4
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good.

ROASTED SQUASH PIZZA WITH CARAMELIZED ONIONS AND BACON

Just when I think I’m running out of pizza-topping combinations to try, another one presents itself. As soon as I saw this recipe at Dinner With Julie, I knew it would be perfect, and perfect it was—an addictive, comforting blend of smoky, salty, sweet, and creamy.

My one misstep was in using a package of pre-cubed butternut squash from Trader Joe’s; normally I frown upon such things, but we’d missed that week’s farmers’ market due to our Thanksgiving trip to Minnesota. I could’ve picked up a whole squash at the grocery store, but I wanted to make things easier on myself post-vacation, and I figured TJ’s usually has pretty good produce, so… Live and learn, right? The squash was so slimy and soggy that it took forever to roast properly; it just kept steaming away in the oven without browning, and I had to bake it nearly twice as long just to get any color and crispness on it. Then, when I popped a piece into my mouth, I discovered it was nearly flavorless, so I desperately sprinkled a little brown sugar over the rest and threw it back into the oven until the sugar caramelized. That seemed to help the sweetness along and the pizza tasted great, but: never again.

On the plus side, I had been planning to just use mozzarella on this, but then I remembered I had some cheese odds and ends left over from making kale pizza a few weeks before, so I added those into the mix. I think the Asiago in particular really made this spectacular, balancing out the sweetness of the squash and onions with its pungent sharpness. And, of course, the bacon didn’t hurt either. I’ve had a run of just-OK pizza experiments lately, but this one was an unequivocal success, probably the best I’ve tried since July’s corn-feta-cilantro-lime awesomeness.

About 1 pound butternut or other winter squash, peeled, seeded, and cubed
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
4 slices bacon, diced
1 large onion, halved and thinly sliced
1 pound pizza dough
Shredded cheese to taste (I used a mixture of mozzarella, Asiago, and Fontina, which I highly recommend)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Place the cubed squash on a rimmed baking sheet, toss with olive oil and salt and pepper to taste, and roast for 20 to 30 minutes, stirring once, until soft and browned. Remove from oven and set aside, then increase the oven temperature to 450 degrees.

3. Meanwhile, cook the bacon in a skillet over medium heat until crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain. Add the onion to the drippings in the skillet and sauté until tender and caramelized.

4. Roll out the pizza dough, place it on a baking sheet coated with cornmeal or olive oil, and scatter half the cheese over it. Add the squash, onions, and bacon, then top with the remaining cheese. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes, until bubbly and golden.

Serves: 4
Time: 75 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.