STRAWBERRY AND ASPARAGUS SALAD

Asparagus + strawberries + mint + lemon = spring in a bowl. Add feta and spinach and you can’t hold me back. I might never have thought to combine these exact ingredients before stumbling across this salad from Bev Cooks on the magical Interwebs, but of course they go together brilliantly. (I’ve already combined strawberries and avocado, so why not strawberries and asparagus?) I doubled the recipe to serve four (as a side), swapped the feta in for goat cheese (not my fave), and upped the lemon juice ratio in the dressing (I like mine acidic). I used salted pepitas because I happened to have some on hand, and I did like them against the sweetness of the strawberries, but I think a lot of other options would work well here, too—pecans, sunflowers seeds, almonds, or even walnuts. The lemon-mint dressing was particularly nice; I had contemplated trying some sort of balsamic dressing instead, worried about the mint being too overpowering and weird, but it was subtle, just enough to add a crisp and refreshing aftertaste, and kept this salad on the delicate side, which is perfect for spring. I ate some leftover dressing on plain spinach later in the week and it was so good on its own that I started envisioning using it on other fruit-with-greens salads throughout the summer (I bet it would be nice with blueberries or peaches).

1 bunch (about ½ pound or less) asparagus, ends trimmed, stalks sliced into 2-inch pieces
10 mint leaves
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
About 3 cups baby spinach
About 1 cup strawberries, rinsed and thinly sliced
¼ cup pepitas, toasted
¼ cup crumbled feta or goat cheese

1. Bring a medium pot of salted water to a boil. Add the asparagus and cook until bright green and crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Drain and cool in an ice bath or under cold running water. Pat dry.

2. Using a mini food processor or an immersion blender, combine the mint leaves with the oil, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.

3. Arrange the spinach in a bowl or on a plate. Top with sliced strawberries, blanched asparagus, toasted pepitas, crumbled cheese, and a good drizzle of the lemon-mint dressing.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, but you should store the components separately and assemble them only when ready to eat.

AGUADITO

If you’re one of those poor afflicted people who think cilantro tastes like soap (I’m so glad I didn’t inherit that gene from my dad), I’m telling you right now that you can go ahead and skip this recipe. This version of the traditional Peruvian chicken soup has a pungent puree of cilantro, Serrano pepper, and garlic stirred right into the broth, lending it a bright green color and wonderfully fresh flavor, especially when finished with plenty of lime juice. It’s basically cilantro soup, and I love it.

I only made a few changes to the original recipe from A Cozy Kitchen. I don’t really like rice, so I swapped in quinoa instead, figuring it has a similar cooking time, and hey, it’s Peruvian too. I like the subtle texture quinoa adds to soups, and this one was no exception. I also pulled the chicken off the bone before serving, because it seemed incredibly awkward to have to deal with a whole piece of chicken while I was trying to slurp down my soup. Next time I might just skip using bone-in pieces entirely; it does certainly maximize the chicken taste, but it also adds a lot of grease—my finished soup was a bit oilier than I like, although granted, I didn’t help things by using entirely dark meat—and I didn’t enjoy the splattery step of browning the chicken in hot oil. My homemade chicken stock is already really flavorful (and no matter how much I try to skim it after it’s cooled, it still probably has more fat than the storebought stuff), and when I’ve used whole pieces of chicken to make it (rather than just a leftover carcass), I pull the meat off the bones afterwards and stash it in my freezer, so I could easily dump that reserved shredded chicken into the soup instead of dealing with whole pieces (another option would be to use meat from a roasted or rotisserie chicken). I think that would simplify the process and keep the fat in check without sacrificing much depth of flavor.

Regardless of how you make it, this soup would be a great way to brighten up the cold winter months (especially when you’re sick—it has the same comforting, restorative quality that homemade chicken noodle soup does, but with a welcome extra zestiness), but with its cilantro, corn, and lime, it also bridges the gap from spring to summer admirably.

¾ cup cilantro leaves, plus extra for garnish
1 Serrano pepper, halved and de-seeded
4 garlic cloves, divided
4¼ cups chicken broth, divided
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 to 1½ pounds skin-on, bone-in chicken (I used drumsticks)
1 small yellow onion, diced
1 small red bell pepper, diced
½ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ cup quinoa or white rice
1 ear of corn
Salt to taste
1 large lime

1. Add cilantro leaves, serrano pepper, 2 garlic cloves (peeled but whole), and ¼ cup chicken broth to a blender (or an immersion blender cup). Blend until mixture is thoroughly combined. Set aside.

2. In a large, heavy pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, carefully add chicken, skin side down. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes, until skin is crisp and slightly browned. Flip over and cook for an additional 5 minutes. Remove chicken from pot and set aside.

3. To the pot with the chicken drippings, add onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add bell peppers and cumin and cook for 1 to 2 more minutes. Mince the other two garlic cloves, place them atop the mixture in the pot, and cook until fragrant.

4. Add the quinoa/rice and the cilantro mixture to the pot and stir, being sure to completely coat the quinoa/rice. Gently add the chicken back to the pot and cover with the remaining 4 cups of chicken broth. (The broth should just cover the chicken; if it doesn’t, add a little more broth, or a bit of water). Cook for 20 to 30 minutes, until quinoa/rice is fully cooked.

5. If desired, remove the chicken from the soup, tear the meat from the bones, shred the meat, and return it to the soup, discarding the bones and skin. (I find it much easier to eat this way.)

6. Cut kernels from corn cob and mix them into the soup a few minutes before you take it off the stove. When you’re ready to serve, add salt to taste. (This will depend on how salty your chicken broth was; mine was homemade and salt-free, so I started with 1 teaspoon of kosher salt.)

7. Squeeze the lime into the soup and garnish with cilantro to taste.

Serves: 4–5
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good.

ORANGE CURRY ALMONDS

As threatened—er, promised—I reworked the magical roasted nut recipe yet again, just to cover all my citrus bases. (I’m ignoring grapefruit here, as I do in all areas of my life.) I think it’s a really good flavor combo. I used Trader Joe’s curry powder, my favorite storebought variety, which has a nice, bright citrusy/floral taste that I correctly suspected would marry well with the orange. (I think I was inspired by these cookies...which now makes me wonder if I could get coconut in here too, somehow.) There’s a little heat to these, but mostly just a deep, savory spice that makes them seem richer and substantial than the other two varieties I’ve made—or maybe it’s just that almonds fill me up more quickly than other nuts. Whereas I could demolish handfuls of the chili lime peanuts or lemon pepper cashews if I wasn’t careful, I’m full and satisfied after a dozen or so of these almonds. Whether for that reason or just because I prefer lemon and lime to orange, these have lingered longer in my kitchen than the other two kinds I’ve made, and I do think I’d name them my least favorite of the three. (They also, for some reason, seem to be on the verge of oversaltiness, even though I used the same amount of salt as in the other two recipes, which struck me as being just the right amount. I might cut back on the salt next time—or perhaps I just measured poorly this time?) But that’s mainly because the first two were so very kickass. I’m still pleased to have “invented” these and I do consider them a successful snack: addictively crisp, excitingly tasty, fairly wholesome, and not like anything I’ve ever seen in a store. For someone who rarely improvises, I feel like I’m on a roll lately!

Freshly grated zest of 1 large orange
¼ cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
4–5 teaspoons curry powder
1 pound unsalted almonds

1. Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

2. Whisk orange zest, orange juice, salt, sugar, and curry powder together in a large bowl. Add almonds 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: Good; will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for at least two weeks

POTATO-LEEK PIZZA WITH RICOTTA AND LEMON

Yeah, I already have a potato-leek pizza recipe—but this one has ricotta and lemon zest and tastes like springtime. The Kitchn calls it a “flatbread,” but I know a pizza when I see one. And this one is fab.

I was a bit worried about getting the potato sliced thinly enough to cook through, since I don’t have a mandoline. (Microsoft Word really wants to change this to “mandolin.” Well, I don’t have one of those, either.) Soaking the potato slices in cold water seemed odd to me; I’ve seen this mentioned in some French fry recipes (I think it draws off the excess starch) but have never tried it before, and was kind of worried by how stiff and curled they were when I pulled them out of their bath—I feared I’d soaked them too long and ruined them, but now after some Internet research I see that you can soak potatoes for hours without damage. And whether it was the water or my careful slicing skills, it worked, and the potatoes got nice and tender. I really love the flavors here—just don’t leave off the lemon zest (as I almost accidentally did when I was eating the leftovers), because it’s what makes this pizza special!

2 large leeks
1 large red-skinned waxy potato
Olive oil to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
1 to 2 cups ricotta cheese
Leaves from 4 sprigs thyme
1 pound pizza dough

1 cup shredded Parmesan or Pecorino Romano cheese (I believe I threw in some Asiago and that was good, too)
Zest from two large lemons

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

2. Trim the roots off the leeks and then slice each leek (white and light green parts only) into very thin rounds. Place the slices in a large bowl and fill with water. Toss the leeks with your fingers, separating the individual rings. Set aside for a few minutes to allow the dirt to settle to the bottom.

3. Slice the potato into thin rounds about ⅛ inch thick. Place slices in a bowl of cool water and set aside.

4. Set a saucepan over medium heat and add about a teaspoon of oil. Transfer the leeks to the saucepan using a slotted spoon and cook until they are bright green and wilted. Season with salt and pepper to taste and set aside.

5. Roll out the dough on a baking sheet and spread with ricotta cheese. Scatter the thyme over the cheese. Arrange the potato slices in overlapping layers and top with leeks. Sprinkle the cheese evenly over the top.

6. Bake for about 15 to 18 minutes, rotating once, until the edges are golden, the leeks have started to crisp, and the potatoes are tender. Remove from the oven and toss the lemon zest over the surface of the hot pizza.

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

GARLIC NAAN

Of course I needed some naan to go with my chicken tikka masala. I hear Trader Joe’s makes a pretty decent frozen one, but I do enjoy baking bread from time to time, and it’s pretty convenient to do on my telecommuting days—knead the dough during my lunch break, let it rise while I work, punch it down right after work and let the second rise happen while I do miscellaneous pre-dinner tasks, then bake while I’m cooking. Posie Gets Cozy, the same site that turned me on to the tikka masala, mentioned an Allrecipes naan recipe as well, but it called for ¼ cup sugar, which seemed way too sweet, so I turned to trusty Food Blog Search instead. It turns out there are a dizzyingly diverse bunch of ways to make naan. It can be leavened with yeast, or just with baking soda; it can be cooked on a grill, on a stovetop, or in the oven; and so on. I quickly grew exhausted from combing through all the variations, so I settled semi-blindly upon this one from Use Real Butter, mainly because it had garlic, it used yeast (baking-soda breads, while simpler, never taste quite as good to me), it included yogurt (yum), it didn’t have weird-looking amounts of sugar or anything else, and it offered instructions for a several different cooking methods, plus lots of helpful photos for guidance.

This turned out to be a wise choice. The dough came together well (I used my KitchenAid mixer, and I think it’s the first time I’ve really gotten good results using the dough hook), was easy to work with, and baked up just as promised, with big bubbles, nice char marks, and a tender, springy-chewy texture. I used my cast-iron skillet on the stovetop and it did the trick just fine. I’d heard the cooking surface should be really hot, so I started at medium-high heat, but the first naan I cooked crossed the line too rapidly from alluringly blistered to fairly blackened, so I turned the stove down to medium to get nonburnt bread. However, I crammed that singed naan into my mouth while cooking the other seven breads, and it was insanely delicious. Maybe it was just that I was so hungry, but mostly likely the bread is best eaten right off the skillet; by the time we sat down to eat the other ones with dinner, they’d cooled to room temperature and even though they still tasted great, they just didn’t seem quite as incredible as that first one. So I’m going to recommend that you serve these as freshly cooked as you can, although the leftover ones are certainly beyond passable. (Or is this just a demonstration of Ramona Quimby’s principle that the first bite of the apple always tastes the best?)

The bread had a mild, not overpowering garlic flavor; I didn’t bother with adding chopped garlic to the top of the cooked naan, figuring that it would just fall off annoyingly into my tikka masala as I dipped it. I didn’t think I’d brush the breads with melted butter either, but I tried it with a few and it did give them a much more photogenic glossy finish and appealing moistness—as well as, of course, a nice buttery taste—so I think it’s worth it but not crucial (unless you want to sprinkle garlic, herbs, or anything else on top, in which case it will provide the necessary adhesion).

Even though I’m not quite sure I’d declare these as good as the restaurant naans I’ve eaten, it was a close enough approximation that I was beamingly pleased with myself. It was fun to make, too, especially watching each one bubble and puff on the skillet. I’ll definitely be making this again, not only with chicken tikka masala and any further Indian dishes I might now be emboldened to try, but with soups like curried lentil and curried coconut carrot.

2½ teaspoons dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
4½ to 5 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting and rolling
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
3 tablespoons milk
2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus a little more for oiling the bowl
Unsalted butter to taste
2 cloves garlic, minced, for sprinkling on top if desired

1. Place the sugar, yeast, and ¼ cup warm water (110 to 115 degrees Fahrenheit) in a small bowl, stir, and let sit 5 to 10 minutes until it becomes foamy.

2. Put the flour, salt, and baking powder in a food processor fitted with a dough blade or a mixer bowl fitted with the dough hook and blend. Pour the yeast mixture, garlic, milk, yogurt, egg, 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, and ¾ cup warm water into the bowl and knead until the dough forms a ball that is smooth and elastic (about 2–3 minutes in a processor, 5–8 minutes in a stand mixer, or 8–10 minutes by hand). The dough should be soft without being sticky; if it’s sticky, add more flour.

3. Put the dough in a large, lightly oiled bowl. Turn the dough around to coat it with oil on all sides, and then cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel and let it sit in a warm, draft-free place for 60 to 90 minutes.

4. Punch down the dough and cut it into 8 pieces. Roll them into balls and set on a floured baking sheet. Cover with a damp kitchen towel and let rise until doubled in size (about 40 to 60 minutes).

5. Roll the dough balls out on a floured work surface to make disks about 6 inches in diameter, then stretch it slightly to make the classic oblong/teardrop shape.

6. Heat a large skillet over medium or medium-high heat. Melt a little butter in the hot skillet. Brush the first naan with water and place it in the skillet water side down. Large bubbles should begin to puff up within a minute. When the bottom of the naan is browned, brush the top of the naan with water, flip it over, and let it cook for another minute or so, until that side is browned. Remove to a basket or plate and, if desired, brush with melted butter and sprinkle with more minced garlic. Repeat seven more times.

Yields: 8 naan
Time: About 2½ to 3 hours
Leftover potential: The naan seemed best when freshly made, but it was OK the next day (when stored in a tightly sealed plastic bag and warmed briefly in the microwave). I have two pieces in the freezer but haven’t tried defrosting them yet.

CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA

I have no idea what possessed me. My usual cooking policy is to avoid making anything at home that a nearby restaurant can make better—better, that is, according to my own idiosyncratic tastes rather than any objective standard of quality, so even though I acknowledge that the fancy artisan pizza place in my neighborhood can do magical things with its wood-fired oven that my putzy little home appliance could never achieve, I’m not that picky about pizza crust, and prefer convenience and the ability to customize over the hassle and expense of going out, except on special occasions. (Plus. I require pizza on a weekly basis, which would bankrupt me at the fancy place.) Mainly this means that I don’t bother trying to cook a lot of complicated (or rather, seemingly complicated, to my Western self) global cuisines, at least not in any remotely authentic way. If I suddenly moved to the backwoods, hundreds of miles from the nearest Indian buffet, you can bet that I’d be training myself to make curries with a quickness, but because I have a favorite Indian restaurant within walking distance of my apartment (along with tasty Thai, Japanese, Afghani, Himalayan, and Ukrainian eateries, plus a great taco truck), I just don’t feel inclined to bother when I can have the pros do it for me. We rarely eat out, but when we do, it’s nearly always either international food or pub fare like burgers and fries. (My rule also applies to good old American burger making, a skill I just don’t feel any urgency to master, and as I’ve mentioned before, deep-frying terrifies me.)

Yet there I was, reading Posie Gets Cozy, when I stumbled across a reference to making chicken tikka masala. I clicked the links that led to further descriptions, until I found myself staring at the actual recipe on Allrecipes. The ingredient list was relatively simple, the method straightforward, the reviews mostly glowing (the main complaints centered around the bizarre fact that the recipe called for a whopping 7 [!!] teaspoons of salt, but that’s easy enough to correct). I could do this…so I did. It was fun, and it was delicious.

As usual, I marinated the chicken for 24 hours instead of 1 hour, and I used the George Foreman (sue me; it’s easy) instead of the grill. All fine, but then I nearly failed RTFR 101 (that’s Read the Freaking Recipe) by using a 15-ounce can of tomato sauce, the standard size at Trader Joe’s, instead of the 8-ounce can called for. I didn’t realize this until after the 20 minutes of simmering, when I sampled a spoonful and thought it pretty much tasted like a spicier tomato-cream sauce. Duh! In a panic, I hastily threw in random amounts of more spices, plus some 1% milk to thin it, and whatever I did must have worked, because the end result was quite tasty and really did seem comparable to the restaurant versions I’ve had. My one complaint was that the servings seemed a bit paltry, although admittedly my mind is probably contrasting them to the enormous standard restaurant portions; in reality this dish is pretty rich and we didn’t feel deprived. Still, there certainly wouldn’t have been much spare sauce if I hadn’t accidentally doubled part of it. Dude, the sauce is the best part! Even though I wasn’t serving it over rice (I don’t really like rice that much), I had made homemade naan (recipe to follow) and wanted plenty of leftover sauce for dipping. So, long story short, I’m going to straight-up double the sauce portions next time, although I’ll be using half-and-half instead of the original heavy cream, because 2 cups of cream is just too much for a weeknight dinner. I’ll also be increasing the chicken quantity slightly; the original recipe called for three breasts, no weights given, so I just picked up a package from the store at random—two breasts, large ones, but probably only about a pound. Next time I’ll make sure I’m reaching for one of the larger packages, aiming for 1½ pounds. I’d also like to try thighs instead, since I generally prefer dark meat.

With 2 whole teaspoons of cayenne plus a jalapeno, I was worried this would be way too spicy for me, but in fact it was just perfect. That cayenne is in the marinade, so most of it doesn’t actually get eaten, plus it gets mellowed by the yogurt and the cream. If you want more spice, you can leave the seeds in your jalapeno.

Even though this wasn’t rocket science, we thoroughly enjoyed it and I was really proud of myself for trying it, which just goes to show that it pays to break the rules (or at least your own arbitrarily self-imposed ones) every now and then.

P.S. Looking for a vegetable side dish to add some more color to this meal? I made green beans with ginger butter and it was the perfect accompaniment.

1 cup nonfat plain yogurt (I think thinner is better for marinades, so I used European-style instead of Greek)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
6 teaspoons ground cumin, divided
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
2 teaspoons salt, divided
1 to 1½ pounds boneless skinless chicken pieces (breasts, thighs, or a combination), cut into bite-sized chunks
2 tablespoons butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 large jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped
4 teaspoons paprika
1 15- or 16-ounce can tomato sauce
1½ to 2 cups half-and-half
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro

1. In a large bowl, combine yogurt, lemon juice, 2 teaspoons cumin, cinnamon, cayenne, black pepper, ginger, and 1 teaspoon salt. Stir in chicken, cover, and refrigerate for 1 to 24 hours.

2. Preheat a grill or broiler. Thread chicken onto four skewers and discard marinade. Cook until juices run clear, about 5 minutes on each side. Set aside.

3. Melt butter in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat. Saute garlic and jalapeno for 1 minute. Season with 4 teaspoons cumin, paprika, and 1 teaspoon salt. Stir in tomato sauce and half-and-half. Simmer on low heat until sauce thickens, about 20 minutes. Remove grilled chicken from skewers, add to the skillet with the sauce, and simmer for 10 minutes. Serve garnished with fresh cilantro.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes, plus 1–24 hours marinating time
Leftover potential: Good.

ASPARAGUS, PROSCIUTTO, EGG, AND PICKLED ONION SANDWICHES

This is the most beautiful sandwich I’ve ever made. It just says “spring” all over, with its delicate hues of pastel green, yellow, and pink and its Eastery flavors of ham, eggs, asparagus, lemon, and dill. I can’t take any credit; I never would have come up with it on my own, especially since I’m not a huge sandwich maker/eater, and in fact I don’t think it would ever have occurred to me to put asparagus on a sandwich at all. (Recipe is from the always-helpful Kitchn.) And it certainly wasn’t any great achievement to put together—boil egg, sear asparagus, slice things, and stack. But it looks and tastes like a work of art. The combination of ingredients initially surprised me, but they work together so well it seems almost inevitable—grassy, tart, creamy, salty, bright, herby, and savory in perfect balance. I’m already jonesing for this again (and this time I’ll double the recipe because I hear the sandwiches are just as good if not better the next day), so I imagine it will be a staple meal for us as long as asparagus is in season.

The only major change I made to the original was to add prosciutto, which was suggested in the comments, and it was the ideal party guest, sliced so thin that it didn’t overwhelm its gentler companions, but adding just a tinge of meaty substance and chew. However, vegetarians can feel free to leave it out without missing too much. I was actually thinking that sliced radishes might be a good addition as well, or maybe it's just that they’d fit in so well with the springy theme and color scheme. If I try it, I’ll let you know.

My sole complaint was not with the recipe, but with my ingredients: my baguette (purchased from Trader Joe’s earlier that day) was extremely hard. I microwaved it a bit, skipped the toasting step, and was generous with the liquid components, but it still made biting and chewing these sandwiches a real workout for our jaws. If I can’t get a better baguette next time, I might consider toasted ciabatta or a softer sandwich roll instead.

2 eggs
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced (or a few tablespoons of diced red onion)
¼ cup red wine vinegar
Half a bunch of asparagus spears (about 15–30, depending on thickness)
Olive oil to taste
2 small baguettes (or a similar portion of a larger baguette, enough for two sandwiches about the same length as your asparagus spears)
Dijon mustard to taste
4 slices prosciutto
Fresh dill to taste
Freshly squeezed lemon juice to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Hard-boil the eggs and set aside.

2. Place the red wine vinegar in a small bowl, add the sliced shallot and a few pinches of salt, and stir. Set aside to pickle while you make the rest of the sandwich.

3. Trim the asparagus by cutting off the woody ends; try to get the spears to a roughly uniform length, about the same length as your bread. If the spears are thick, cut them in half lengthwise. In a large skillet over high heat, add a little oil. Sear the asparagus spears, about 3 or 4 minutes on each side. You want a little bit of char, so don't move the asparagus very often. Remove from skillet and set aside.

 4. Split bread in half lengthwise; toast lightly if desired. Brush the top half with a little olive oil; spread mustard on the bottom half. Place two slices of prosciutto atop each mustard-covered piece, then add half the asparagus to each sandwich. Peel and slice the eggs and add half of the slices to each sandwich. Top with dill and pickled onions, then season with salt, pepper, and a squeeze of lemon to taste.

Serves: 2
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: I haven’t tried it, but the original recipe says it will keep a day in the fridge and might be even better the next day, although the bread will lose its crustiness.

WHITE BEAN AND SPINACH SALAD WITH WARM BACON VINAIGRETTE

And here’s yet another spinach salad with bacon that I’ve plopped an egg atop. But this one has white beans! Despite its marked similarity to many of the other new salads I’ve been discovering ever since I learned to poach an egg, I still became entranced when I spotted it at Thursday Night Smackdown, where the writing is always entertaining and insightful but the recipes are normally too complicated for my lazy ass. This one is simplicity itself—basically just canned beans on a bed of raw spinach—but the huge flavors of the vinaigrette, with its generous hits of bacon and garlic mixed with shallots, mustard, and vinegar, make the humble ingredients seem fancy.

I doubled the recipe so I could have leftovers (see note below), added the egg, and nixed the canned beans in favor of the dried yellow eye beans I’d bought on a whim at the farmers’ market. Normally I prefer dry beans to canned, but these cooked up bigger and starchier than I’d expected, and although they were still plenty delicious, I think the canned beans might actually have a better texture here and soak up more of the vinaigrette flavors, so I’m going to try canned next time. Other than that, this salad was an easy-but-sophisticated-feeling one-dish dinner—but then, it’s hard to go wrong with that much bacon. If you want to cut back on the bacon or the garlic, I’d understand.

8 strips thick-cut bacon, diced
2 large shallots, minced
12 medium cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup sherry or apple cider vinegar
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 15-ounce cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed, or 1 pound dried white beans, cooked and drained
½ cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
9–12 ounces baby spinach
4 eggs (optional)

1. Heat a skillet over medium heat. Add the bacon and cook, stirring occasionally, until the fat has rendered out and the bacon is crisp. Use a slotted spoon to remove the bacon from the pan to a plate lined with paper towels, keeping the fat in the pan, and turn the heat down to medium-low.

2. Add the shallots to the pan of bacon drippings and sauté for 3 to 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds more.

3. Whisk the mustard into the vinegar, then pour the mixture into the skillet and stir to combine. Mix in the beans and pepper and cook for a few minutes to heat through. Toss in the parsley and bacon.

4. Put the spinach in a large bowl; dump the bean mixture over the top. Toss everything together, then let it sit for a few minutes. If desired, poach the eggs and place one atop each serving of salad.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Good, if the bean mixture is stored separately from the spinach. If you want to eat two servings right away and two servings later, as we did, only combine half the bean mixture with half the spinach in Step 4. Store the leftover bean mixture separately from the leftover spinach. When you’re ready to eat them, heat up the bean mixture and then combine it with the spinach. The leftovers would probably still work OK if they’re all combined ahead of time, as long as you don’t mind wiltier spinach. But obviously, if you’re planning on topping this with a poached egg, don’t poach the egg until you’re ready to eat the leftovers.

COCONUT MACAROON NUTELLA NESTS

The different between professional-caliber food blogs and, well, mine is that the real ones will helpfully publish holiday recipes ahead of time, in case you should care to try them during your upcoming festivities. I just post them after I’ve tried them, which is inevitably too late to be of use to anyone until the following year, by which time we’ve all forgotten about them. Selfishness: It’s how I roll! But if you like to plan ahead, you might want to bookmark this one for Easter 2013, because it’s pretty, easy, and delicious. Or maybe you need something to do with this year’s leftover Easter basket goodies, which means I’ve caught you in time after all. Ha-HA!

I don’t usually have the energy or generosity to make themed treats, but when these cleverly designed cookies caught my eye at Two Peas and Their Pod last month, I fell in love with their cuteness. Although I rarely make them for some reason, I adore macaroons and have been on a serious coconut kick lately. I also love Nutella and miniature chocolate eggs (Cadbury mini-eggs are THE BEST), so it was a done deal.

As you might guess, these cookies are fairly rich, sugary, and sticky, making them a good thing to share with friends, especially since they probably wouldn’t freeze very well. I wasn’t a huge fan of the macaroon recipe, which differs from those I’ve made in the past in its use of sweetened condensed milk. The cookies were moist, sweet, and coconutty enough, but they seemed a bit too gooey—one of them even fell apart when I transferred it to the cooling rack. However, this may well have been due to user error. I carefully measured out my 3½ cups of coconut, which for me was the entire bag. Only after I put the cookies in the oven and reached for the discarded bag to throw it away did I see “contains 5⅓ cups” splashed across the front. D’oh! Apparently this particular bag had been extremely compressed on its journey to me. (This is why giving measurements in ounces is the best way to go!) So I used way too much coconut, and I probably could have baked the cookies longer—I like a crisper, toastier exterior than I got. But I also hate having random partially used cans of sweetened condensed milk left over in my fridge, so next time I might try the macaroon recipe from the back of the coconut bag instead.

The cookies were also enormous. Maybe this was due to my excessive use of coconut, but I don’t think so, because the photo in the original recipe makes them look about on the same scale as mine were. Sure, they’ve got to be generously sized enough to hold three candy eggs (one would look like a boob; two would still be weird, not nest-like enough), but next time still I’d try making them smaller. Their size—about as large as my palm—and the fact that the Nutella doesn’t harden like frosting, just stays its same goopy self, made them rather difficult to transport or eat gracefully. But I don’t mean to talk them down too much, because I certainly devoured my fair share without complaint, and everyone who tried them loved them.* Clearly I’m planning to make them again next year, albeit with some alterations (I’d also like to try using the dark chocolate mini-eggs, which I couldn’t find this year, in the hopes of cutting the sweetness a bit). They are really charming and fun to make, without requiring any special decorating skills (which goodness knows I don’t have). And considering that Easter is my favorite holiday, it’s nice to have a festive cookie in my repertoire.

*Just now, A wandered into the room and asked me which recipe I was writing about. When I said it was these cookies, he groaned, "Oh, those were so good!" So there's your testimonial.

⅔ cup sweetened condensed milk
1 large egg white
1½ teaspoons vanilla
⅛ teaspoon salt
3½ cups sweetened shredded coconut
About 10–12 tablespoons Nutella
30–36 small chocolate Easter egg candies (I used Cadbury Mini-Eggs)

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line one or two large baking sheets with parchment paper or a Silpat mat.

2. In a large bowl, stir together the sweetened condensed milk, egg white, vanilla extract, and salt. Stir until combined. Add the coconut and mix well.

3. Scoop up about 2 heaping tablespoons of the dough and place it onto the prepared baking sheet. Form into the shape of a bird nest, pressing down the center with your thumb.

4. Bake cookies for 17 to 20 minutes, or until slightly golden brown. Remove from the oven and press your thumb down in the center of the nests again. Cool the cookies on the baking sheets for about 5 minutes or until they are firm and set. Remove with a spatula onto a cooling rack. Cool completely.

5. Place about a tablespoon of Nutella in the center of each nest. Place 3 egg candies in the center of the nest.

Yields: 10–12
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: OK. I wouldn’t freeze these, but they should last in an airtight container at room temperature for a few days.

ORANGE-GINGER CARROT SOUP

Confession: This is the fifth carrot soup on this site. I just can’t resist a steaming bowl of smooth, sunny orange liquid, apparently. I’ve got them plain, with coriander, roasted with fennel, and curried with coconut, but what I didn’t have was perhaps one of the most common iterations, carrot ginger. In fact, I think the first time I ever tried any kind of pureed carrot soup, way back in a British pub in the mid-1990s (I think it was Oxford’s Eagle and Child, favored haunt of Lewis and Tolkien, but I might be confusing my memories), it was carrot ginger. It stuck in my mind because it was a total revelation to me, an inveterate cooked-carrot hater. Carrot soup, imagine that!

Unlike many people I know, I’m not a ginger fiend, and I probably could have lived quite happily without such a recipe in my collection if my friend S (who really should have a food blog of her own; her cooking is way bolder and more creative than mine) hadn’t specifically recommended this one after making it herself. Suddenly carrot ginger soup sounded tantalizing to me, and the inclusion of citrus sealed the deal.

Surprise, surprise, this lived up to its reputation. The flavors are well balanced—sweet from the carrots, bright from the orange, and peppy from the ginger—yet relatively gentle, and it’s easy to make. But thank goodness I was paying attention while cooking, because the recipe was really poorly written. Although I’ve only tried a few other recipes from the Food Network site, all of them have suffered from a notable lack of editing. If I didn’t know better, I would have pureed my bay leaf right along with the rest of the soup ingredients, because the instructions never told me to take it out. They never said anything about peeling or cutting up the 2-inch chunk of ginger, either, but I figured that slicing it into smaller pieces would help it cook through and ensure smooth pureeing. Not to mention that I was directed to slice the carrots “thinly,” a waste of knife skills because they were going to get pureed anyway and just needed to be small and consistently sized enough to cook quickly and evenly. And why ask me for an entire bunch of cilantro in the ingredient list when it turns out I only need 2 tablespoons? (I used more like 4, because I love cilantro.) The whole thing annoyed me. Good thing the soup was delicious. I’ll definitely make it again…using my own rewritten recipe.

1 pound carrots, coarsely diced
1 medium onion, chopped
6 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 2-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and sliced into thick coins
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
Zest (about 2 teaspoons) and juice (about ½ cup) of 1 large orange
4½ cups low-sodium chicken broth (or vegetable broth if you want a vegetarian version)
1 bay leaf
Salt and pepper to taste
2–4 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro

1. In a large soup pot, heat oil over medium heat. Add carrots, onion, garlic, and ginger and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is tender, 6 to 8 minutes.

2. Add chicken stock, orange zest, and bay leaf to cooking vegetables. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until carrots are completely tender, about 20 minutes.

3. Remove bay leaf and discard. In a food processor or blender, puree soup in batches until smooth; return to saucepan (or better yet, just puree it in the pot using an immersion blender).

4. Stir in orange juice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until heated through, 2 to 3 minutes. Serve sprinkled with cilantro.

Serves: 4–5
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Excellent; tastes even better the next day and can be frozen.

TORTELLINI WITH SAUSAGE, FENNEL, MUSHROOMS, AND SPINACH

Even though I’m not actively trying to accumulate new pasta recipes (because I already have more than I can make in a year), every now and then I encounter one I can’t resist. I initially struggled to disregard this one when I spotted a simplified version at Dinner With Julie—I mean, it looked tasty, and I love filled pastas, and mushrooms and spinach and sausage go so well together, and I don’t have anything like that in my archives, yet it seemed too basic to be worth breaking my ban—but when I saw that the original Bon Appetit recipe also contained fennel (in three forms, no less: bulb, seeds, and fronds), I caved. Now that seemed special. Plus, it looked like the perfect easy weeknight meal for someone who’d just come back from vacation and wanted to eat some vegetables but hadn’t had a chance to go to the farmers’ market.

I’m not sure if I was just off my game, but this wasn’t quite as quick to throw together as I’d expected. Not laborious whatsoever, mind you, but not effortless…just your standard pasta recipe, basically. I blame the fennel, which always feels awkward for me to deal with, especially because I have to struggle to wrest the fronds away from a cat that is inexplicably obsessed with chewing on them. (Like, he can smell the fennel as soon as I bring it through the door and follows me around until I get it into the fridge. It’s pretty cute, actually.) Plus, I cooked my fennel mixture a bit longer than 15 minutes because I like it super-tender, not crunchy at all. So I guess if you’re looking for an unusually fast dish, try the Dinner with Julie version. But if you love fennel, stick with this one, because it’s going to be right up your alley.

Long story short, this is delicious. I knew the flavors would play well together, but I was still surprised by how much I liked it. The saucy-but-not-goopy texture was particularly delightful; that little bit of cream gives it some unctuousness without descending into heavy cream-sauce territory (in fact, if you hadn’t read the recipe, you might not notice it was there at all). I didn’t really make any changes. I did use chicken Italian sausage, which only comes in the sweet variety at Trader Joe’s, so to add spiciness I put in ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes along with the garlic and fennel seed. I might select a different tortellini next time, though. It cracked me up that the original recipe specifies only “dried tortellini with pesto filling or fresh tortellini with 3-cheese filling.” What happens if you use dried cheese tortellini or fresh pesto tortellini—will the dish explode? Still, I followed the rules and went with dried pesto tortellini, mainly because it handily comes in a 1-pound package at Trader Joe’s, whereas the fresh tortellini comes in odder sizes and I’d have to use something like 1.6 packs to equal a pound. I use the dried cheese tortellini all the time for pasta salad, but I hadn’t tried the pesto variety before and found it a little salty and fake-tasting (it reminded me more of dried basil than fresh). It wasn’t as noticeable in the finished dish, but I think I could do better. Oh, and I initially scoffed at the recipe’s direction to return the tortellini to its cooking pot and then add everything else to it—why not keep things cleaner and easier and add the tortellini, spinach and cheese to the skillet with the bubbling sauce, as in most pasta recipes? I’ll tell you why—because that skillet gets full nearly to overflowing, even before you try to add the bulky-before-wilting spinach leaves. I made a mess of the surrounding stovetop in the process, so I’ve learned my lesson there.

Anyway, despite my reluctance to add to my massive collection, I guess I’ve acquired another favorite pasta recipe, because this one’s a crowd-pleasing keeper.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large fennel bulb, trimmed, halved through core, thinly sliced lengthwise (about 3 cups), fronds chopped
1 pound spicy Italian sausages, casings removed, sausage coarsely crumbled
8 ounces fresh cremini mushrooms, sliced
4 large garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon fennel seeds, coarsely crushed
½ cup heavy cream
1 cup low-salt chicken broth
1 pound dried or fresh pesto or cheese tortellini
5–6 ounces baby spinach leaves
½ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for serving

1. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add sliced fennel bulb, sausage, and mushrooms; sauté until sausage is brown and cooked through and fennel is almost tender, 12 to 15 minutes. Add garlic and fennel seeds; stir 1 minute. Stir in cream, then broth; boil until liquid is reduced and very slightly thickened, 2 to 3 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, cook tortellini in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain tortellini; return to same pot.

3. Add sausage mixture to tortellini in pot. Toss over medium heat until blended. Add spinach; toss gently until spinach wilts. Stir in ½ cup cheese. Season with salt and pepper, sprinkle with chopped fennel fronds, and serve with additional cheese to taste.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: High.

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.