SWEET POTATO AND CORN FRITTERS

I love a good fritter, and after making chili-lime roasted squash salad recently, I’ve been intrigued by the combination of spicy southwestern flavors with sweet orange root vegetables, so when I saw this recipe at Budget Bytes, I…bit.

I halved the recipe because it promised to make a ton, and leftover fritters are never quite as good. Since it’s difficult to halve an egg, I took the suggestion from the original recipe to increase the breadcrumbs a bit, but maybe I needed to increase them more or maybe I had a bit too much sweet potato, because they turned out slightly damper than I think they were intended to. No big deal; I just had to dollop them into the pan rather than forming them into patties first, they were a little more difficult to flip, and they didn’t get quite as crisp as I’d hoped. The flavor, however, was spot on. Taking inspiration from the chili-lime squash, I added some chipotle chili powder, and the smokiness was a perfect foil for the sweetness of the potato and corn. And ironically, we still had some leftovers, and when I heated them up in a dry skillet the next day, that second frying dried them out a bit and achieved the crispy texture I’d been hoping for the first time around.

I served black bean salsa on the side because I thought it would be a great combo (which it was), but the fritters were much more filling than I expected, so really, a small green salad is probably all you need to accompany these. 

A isn’t a huge sweet potato fan (except in fry format), and he doesn’t usually like yogurt, but we both enjoyed these bold, colorful, and hearty patties with their creamy, garlicky sauce (to which I might add a bit of lime juice next time, to liven things up even further) as a fun and different addition to our fritter rotation.

1½ pounds sweet potatoes
½ cup frozen corn kernels
1 green onion, sliced
2 large handfuls (or to taste) chopped fresh cilantro, divided
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
½ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons yellow cornmeal
¾ cup panko
1 egg
¼ cup olive oil
½ cup plain Greek yogurt
1 small clove garlic, minced

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Scrub the potatoes, prick them all over with a fork, and place them on a rimmed baking sheet lined with foil. Bake until tender, about 45 minutes. Remove potatoes from oven and let cool until they can be handled, then cut them open and scoop the flesh into a large bowl, discarding the skin.

2. Add the green onions, 1 handful cilantro, frozen corn kernels, salt, cumin, chili powder, and cayenne pepper to the bowl with the cooked sweet potatoes. Stir until well combined.

3. Add the cornmeal, panko, and egg to the bowl. Stir until evenly combined. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes to allow the breadcrumbs to absorb moisture.

4. While the sweet potato mixture is refrigerating, mix up the garlic yogurt sauce. In a small bowl, combine the yogurt, garlic, and a handful of chopped cilantro leaves. Stir until combined and then refrigerate until ready to serve.

5. After the sweet potato mixture has refrigerated, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons oil and heat until the surface appears wavy. Shape the sweet potato mixture into small patties (about 2 to 3 tablespoons each) and cook about 4 at a time in the hot oil. Cook until golden brown on each side, about 5 minutes per side. After cooking, drain on a paper towel-covered plate and then transfer to a cooling rack. Add 2 more tablespoons oil to the skillet and repeat with remaining sweet potato mixture.

6. Serve warm with the garlic yogurt sauce.

Serves: 2–3
Time: 2 hours
Leftover potential: OK. Leftover fritters can be revived by heating in a dry skillet on the stovetop over medium heat until warmed through and crisp on both sides. (If you want, you can heat them for 30 seconds or so in the microwave first to ensure that the centers are warm.)

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER SOUP

I have long professed myself a disliker of cauliflower. I always thought of it as having a cabbagey taste and smell (I love that Mark Twain called it “cabbage with a college education”), and overall it just seemed like a more depressing version of broccoli--which does share that cabbage-like whiff, but at least has a lovely green color and flavor going for it. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t giving it a fair shake. Most of my encounters with cauliflower were raw, as a crudite surrounding a bowl of dip on a party platter, or floating around in a salad. I heard that, as with many difficult vegetables, roasting would transform cauliflower into something wonderful, but I was never brave enough to give it a shot.

A few years ago, A’s brother served us cauliflower soup as a first course at Thanksgiving dinner, and while I was suspicious, it tasted pretty good, not cabbagey at all. So when I spotted this cauliflower soup recipe in Cooking Light, I figured it would be the perfect way to bring cauliflower into my kitchen for the first time, since it featured both roasting to enhance the flavor and pureeing to obliterate the texture, plus a topping of prosciutto that I knew would entice A. And I was not wrong. I liked this soup, and A really liked it, several times specifically mentioning how good it was, and even willingly eating a leftover portion the next day, a rare compliment where soup is concerned. The soup itself is silky and subtle, with a delicate nutty flavor, and the ham-breadcrumb-almond-parsley topping adds interesting flavors, textures, and colors. It’s definitely a keeper; I made it basically as written and wouldn’t change a thing.

With this as my gateway drug, the next step is for me to try unpureed roasted cauliflower. If that’s a success and I decide to admit I don’t hate cauliflower anymore, then the list of vegetables I think I don’t like is growing pretty darn short. Which means that if I want any more challenges like this, getting to know Brussels sprouts is probably in my future.

8 cups cauliflower florets (about 1 large head or 2 medium)
2 teaspoons olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt, divided
Cooking spray or olive oil
4 thin slices prosciutto or other cured ham, chopped (about 2 ounces)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, divided
¾ cup chopped yellow onion
4 garlic cloves, chopped
4 cups unsalted chicken stock
1 cup water
½ cup half-and-half
1 ounce French bread baguette, torn into coarse crumbs (about ¼ cup)
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
¼ cup sliced almonds, toasted

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Place cauliflower in a large bowl, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon salt, and toss to coat. Arrange mixture in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet coated with cooking spray, a small amount of oil, or parchment. Roast for 40 minutes or until tender and browned, stirring once after 30 minutes.

3. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray or a small amount of olive oil. Add prosciutto and cook 3 minutes or until crisp. Remove and drain on paper towels. Melt 1½ teaspoons butter in pan. Add onion and garlic; sauté 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add cauliflower, stock, and 1 cup water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and stir in half-and-half. Place half of cauliflower mixture in a blender, and puree until smooth, then pour pureed soup into a bowl and repeat with remaining cauliflower mixture. (Alternatively, you can just puree the soup in the pan with an immersion blender.) Stir in remaining ¼ teaspoon salt.

4. Melt remaining 1½ teaspoons butter in a small skillet over medium heat and swirl to coat the bottom of the skillet. Add breadcrumbs and sauté 5 minutes or until golden, stirring frequently. Remove from heat. Combine ham, breadcrumbs, parsley, and toasted almonds. Ladle soup into each of four bowls, and top each serving with a quarter of the toasted breadcrumb mixture.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Great; I stored the toasted-breadcrumb topping mixture for the leftover portions separately from the soup in an attempt to keep it from getting too soggy, but I’m not sure how much of a difference that really made.

APPLE AND FENNEL SALAD

Can you believe this was my first time making a raw fennel salad at home? I fell in love with cooked fennel a couple of years ago, and shaved fennel has been a restaurant menu trend for a while, and I know that in its raw state it’s crisp and less licorice-tasting, yet still I delayed, believing, perhaps, that it would be a hard sell to A, or just feeling too lazy to slice something paper-thin. Then, while dining out, I had a salad that included fennel, and what do you know, it was incredibly delicious, and an obsession was born. I bookmarked about a million (or, you know, four) tantalizing-looking fennel salad recipes, but settled on this one from The Purple Foodie for my inaugural attempt because it’s otherwise quite similar to other salads I’ve made and enjoyed. You can’t go wrong with apples, greens, walnuts, cheese, and lemon vinaigrette, and it turns out that fennel fits in beautifully.

I really loved this salad, and I think A enjoyed it too. The fennel flavor is subtle, but its juicy crunch makes its presence felt and echoes the texture of the apple. I chose arugula as a base (the original recipe just called for salad greens), and its peppery flavor was perfect with the sweet apple, herby fennel, tart lemon, toasty nuts, and salty cheese. I threw some Dijon into the dressing, because that’s what I usually do with lemon vinaigrettes, and it did not go amiss. For some reason, the Parmesan shavings were a big revelation to me here, and in fact, a stripped-down version of this salad, just arugula with sliced apple, walnuts, shaved Parmesan, and lemon vinaigrette, has become my favorite side dish of the moment, because I almost always have those ingredients on hand. But that’s not to say that the fennel version isn’t worthwhile; I’ve already made that one twice. In other words, this is on its way to becoming one of my go-to winter salads.

1 large fennel bulb
2 medium apples (I used Fuji)
4 handfuls baby arugula
4 tablespoons shaved Parmesan
4 tablespoons toasted walnuts
Freshly ground pepper to taste
Salt to taste
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1. Cut the fennel bulb in half vertically (through the trimmed shoots to the base), then cut each half in half vertically again. Cut out and discard the hard core at the base of each fennel quarter. Place each piece of fennel on a cutting board, flat surface down, and slice it diagonally starting from the base, making sure to keep the slices as thin as possible (or use a mandolin if you have one).

2. Quarter and core the apple, then cut it into thin slices.

3. Place the sliced fennel and apple in a bowl, making sure to separate the ones that are stuck together, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and lemon zest.

4. Add the arugula, walnuts, and Parmesan to the bowl and toss together.

5. In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, Dijon, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

6. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss to coat evenly.

Serves: 4
Time: 15 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, although I haven’t quite figured out the best approach; the first time, I had a smallish fennel bulb and made kind of a mess of slicing it up, ending up with only enough for two servings (the original recipe says it serves 2 to 3, so that didn’t surprise me). Since I had extras of all the other ingredients, when it came time for leftovers I just made the salad without the fennel, which, as mentioned above, was just dandy. The second time around, I just cut up half the fennel bulb and one of the apples to make two servings of salad to eat right away, and then the next day I cut up the rest of the fennel bulb (which I’d wrapped in plastic wrap and stored in a baggie in the fridge) and the other apple, basically just making the other two servings of salad from scratch (except the dressing, which I’d stored in the fridge). That worked fine but was a bit more labor-intensive. I suspect you could simplify things by mixing up all the ingredients except the arugula and storing that in the refrigerator, then just dolloping some of that atop some greens whenever you felt like eating.

MAPLE-MUSTARD GLAZED CARROTS

I feel like I rambled a lot in my last entry, so I’ll keep this one short and sweet...much like these carrots!

Despite the title of this blog, it’s been quite a while since I’ve cooked from a book instead of the Internet, but a couple of weeks ago, perpetually unable to eyeball quantities accurately in the hustle and bustle of the farmers’ market, I ended up with a huge carrot surplus that needed to be used up. Looking for something interesting to do with them, I decided to consult Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day, one of the few cookbooks that’s earned its keep in my kitchen. Sure enough, I turned to “Carrots” and found that I already had this recipe flagged to try. The basic recipe is for maple-glazed carrots, but there were two variations listed at the end, and the one that involved adding mustard called out to me--since, as you know, mustard has become my new favorite secret ingredient.

The result was a magically easy and delicious side dish. The carrots braise in a small amount of water and syrup, softening and picking up a gentle glaze that’s flavorful but not sticky. I’m definitely glad I went with the mustard, because otherwise I would have found it too sweet. As it is, there’s still an addictive candy-like quality (which caused A to love it), but the savory, salty mustard balances it out. I hated cooked carrots for many years, and I still prefer them roasted or pan-browned, but this is the best steamed/boiled treatment for them I’ve found, and I definitely plan to make it again--especially since I’m sure I’ll never stop accidentally buying too many carrots.

1 tablespoon butter
2 medium shallots, minced
1 pound carrots, cut on the diagonal into ½-inch-thick ovals
½ cup water
2 tablespoons maple syrup (Grade B preferable)
1 pinch ground nutmeg
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon grainy Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley leaves

1. Heat a medium skillet over medium heat. Melt the butter in the skillet, then add the shallots and saute until golden, about 4 minutes.

2. Add the carrots, water, maple syrup, nutmeg, and salt to taste. Cover and cook for 10 minutes.

3. Remove the cover and stir in mustard. Simmer briskly until the carrots are tender but not mushy and the liquid in the pan has thickened and coats the carrots nicely, 3 to 4 minutes.

4. Remove the pan from the heat, stir in the parsley, and add a bit more salt if necessary.

Serves: 4
Time: 25 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

KALE SALAD WITH APPLES, ALMONDS, CHEDDAR, AND POMEGRANATE

Even though they’ve become trendy as a “superfood” (I just can’t bring myself to use that word without the scare quotes), pomegranates still seem exotic to me. My elementary-school best friend would occasionally bring a segment to school in her lunchbag (she was Jewish and I conflated these two things for years), but other than that, I never encountered them until I was an adult. Now that I live in California, I see them for sale at my farmers’ market sometimes but have been a bit intimidated by them. The fact that multiple methods exist for opening them, detailed in a host of online step-by-steps procedures, only makes them more daunting. (Internet tutorials can be extremely useful, but generally, if a cooking technique requires a video to teach it, I tend to avoid it. I’m not claiming this is a wise philosophy, since it kept me away from poaching eggs and making mayonnaise for many lost years.) I’ve bought the convenient boxes of seeds at Trader Joe’s a few times, but they’re ridiculously expensive, nearly four times the cost of a whole pomegranate. When I saw this delicious-looking recipe from A Tasty Love Story at The Kitchn, I decided it was time to buckle down and get friendly with pomegranates.

Following directions from, yes, The Kitchn, I found it quite easy to open my pomegranate underwater, with just a few stray squirts of juice marring my kitchen, and only when I got too enthusiastic about pulling the seeds out forcefully (one red splash stained my forehead and glasses, which I didn’t notice until hours later, and with some alarm until I figured out its source). The rest of the salad came together easily enough, although it takes a bit longer than some of the others I’ve made, between negotiating the pomegranate and having to candy the almonds. That process is quick and nifty enough in itself, just a few minutes on the stovetop, but I wasn’t completely satisfied with the results. Maybe I overcooked them, but my almonds tasted a little bitter, and they were incredibly sticky; unable to reach the parchment, I grabbed the waxed paper instead to line the baking sheet I poured them onto to cool, and when I tried to remove them later, they took the paper right along with them. I had to spend 15 minutes trying to peel the tiny scraps of paper off, and then chopping them was equally awkward. All that and I’m not sure whether they added a lot of flavor to the salad; the dressing already has balsamic and honey in it, and when all was said and done I could barely even notice they were candied. I would be tempted to use plain ones in the future, but A disagrees that the flavor was indetectible, so maybe I was just cranky about my waxed paper gaffe.

One crucial improvement I made was to add sharp cubed cheddar cheese to the mix; besides the kale, and the almonds beneath their candied coating, everything else here is so firmly in the tart-sweet spectrum that I felt something creamy and savory/salty was needed to balance it out. Maybe I had a huge pomegranate, but there were a lot of seeds in there, although I appreciated the liquid they provided in each bite because there were also a lot of almonds, which sometimes make my mouth feel dry; I might slightly reduce the quantities of each next time. There was so much going on in the salad that the grassy flavor of the kale was in danger of being overshadowed. I thought kale was nearly indestructible, but it even seemed to be getting a little soggy under the weight of all the other ingredients. Perhaps I should have followed the original recipe in using finely chopped curly kale instead of the sliced Tuscan I prefer for salads, but Tuscan was all I could find at the farmers’ market that week anyway. In particular, with its balsamic base, the dressing was much more assertive than the lemony ones I usually use for kale, not to mention that it stained all the ingredients an unfortunate brown.

It sounds like I’m complaining, doesn’t it? I did really enjoy this salad; the flavors go together well and it has a tremendously pleasing juicy crunch. A liked it even more than I did, and in fact, I think the very things that make me compare it unfavorably to some of my other kale salad recipes--the big, bold, sweet flavors and the backgrounding of the kale itself--are precisely what he liked about it. So I’ll definitely be making it again as a nice change of pace, and I am now firmly in the camp of pomegranate eaters.

¾ cup almonds
5 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, divided
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon honey, divided
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper to taste
1 bunch kale (I used Tuscan)
1 pomegranate
2 apples
½–¾ cup cubed sharp cheddar cheese


1. Heat a medium skillet over medium heat. Toast the almonds for 1 to 2 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar; as soon as the liquid has evaporated, add 1 tablespoon of honey and stir for 1 minute. Transfer almonds to a baking sheet lined with silicon or parchment and let them cool. Afterwards, chop them coarsely.

2. In a small bowl, stir together the remaining 3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, the remaining 1 teaspoon of honey, the Dijon, and salt and pepper to taste. Gradually whisk in the olive oil, continuing whisking until dressing is emulsified.


3. Wash and dry the kale. Remove the stems and slice the leaves into thin strips (if using Tuscan) or chop them finely (if using curly). Place the kale in a large bowl.

4. Remove the seeds from the pomegranate and add them to the bowl. Core and thinly slice the apples and add them as well, followed by the cheddar and almonds.

5. Add the dressing to the salad and toss well to coat.

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

PUMPKIN BAKED OATMEAL

When I was first getting to know A, one anecdote he told made a particularly vivid impression on me: When he was a little boy and going through an especially picky phase, he got to have pumpkin pie for breakfast. His pediatrician told his mother to give him whatever he would actually eat, and that at least pumpkin is high in vitamin A, protein, fiber, and other nutrients. To this day, when we visit his mom for Thanksgiving, there is often an extra pumpkin pie just for him to eat in the mornings.

In contrast, I’m an orthodox breakfast eater from a family of orthodox breakfast eaters. I’ve never had any kind of pie for breakfast, and as I’ve mentioned before, I eschewed pumpkin completely for the first 34 years of my life. Pumpkin pie still isn’t my favorite, but pumpkin ice cream, cookies, pancakes, pudding, and even gnocchi have won me over, so when I saw this recipe for pumpkin baked oatmeal at Budget Bytes, I was intrigued. Ever since I discovered baked oatmeal three years ago, it’s been my go-to warm breakfast food, but I’ve always stuck with the same recipe, with the only variation being that I occasionally use dried cranberries instead of raisins. Clearly, it was time to branch out.

This recipe is pretty similar to my usual except for the pumpkin, the spices, and the addition of baking powder, which makes the oatmeal just a bit fluffier. It called for 1½ cups milk, but then mentioned that you could use up to 2 cups, subbing in plain yogurt for some of that. I liked the idea of adding a bit more protein from Greek yogurt, so I used ½ cup of that plus 1½ cups milk. I think this may have been a bit too much liquid for me, in addition to all the pumpkin; the end result had a creamier consistency than I’m used to, although it’s also possible I didn’t cook it long enough (I did cook it for longer than the recipe says, because after the given baking time it was still runny and jiggly in the middle, but I probably still erred on the side of underdone). This wasn’t a huge problem, especially since baked oatmeal becomes just a bit drier with each day it spends in the fridge, but I’m wondering if next time I should reduce the liquid slightly. I’m also wondering if covering the baking dish is really necessary; this isn’t called for with my other recipe, and I think it increased the needed baking time for me. As long as the top doesn’t get overly browned, I might skip it. To provide some textural variation, I sprinkled chopped pecans atop the oatmeal right before I ate it each morning, and it was such a tasty addition that I’ll just throw them right in before baking next time.

Small consistency issues aside, this oatmeal is incredibly delicious. It really does taste reminiscent of pumpkin pie, but better, in my opinion, because it’s not so sweet and smooshy; the nutty, chewy oats help balance it out. It’s a cheerful shade of orange, and I love knowing it’s packed with even more good-for-you punch than my usual version. If you’re a devoted cereal eater like me, it’s not often you can claim to have had nearly a full serving of vegetables by 9:00 a.m. Whether the idea of pumpkin pie for breakfast sounds like a great idea to you or a crazy one, this happy medium is a tasty, wholesome breakfast treat. It’s going into my regular rotation; in fact, I might make another batch today!

Update, September 2013: Still a favorite, but I've made a few changes. I now include ½ cup of pecans before baking, and I bake it uncovered the whole time with no ill effects—but if you find the top browns before the interior is solidified, by all means cover it. I also leave out the yogurt and just use 2 cups milk; as much as I like the idea of extra protein, I think it was adding a tart undertone I didn’t care for. In addition, instead of premixing my pumpkin pie spice, I'll often get lazy and just dump spices directly into the pumpkin mixure--a heaping 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon each cardamom and ginger, and 1/8 teaspoon each cloves and nutmeg. Can't really tell the difference!

15 ounces pumpkin puree (canned or fresh)
½ cup brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice*
½ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½–2 cups milk
½–1 cup plain yogurt (optional; use as replacement for part of the milk, with no more than 2 cups liquid total; e.g., 1 cup milk + 1 cup yogurt, or 1½ cups milk + ½ cup yogurt)
2½ cups rolled oats (old-fashioned, not quick)
½ cup chopped pecans (optional)
Nonstick cooking spray or canola oil

*I made my own pumpkin pie spice by combining ¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon, ½ teaspoon ground ginger, and ⅛ teaspoon each of ground cloves, cardamom, and nutmeg in a small bowl. It yields a bit more than 1 teaspoon, but you can use the excess for something else.

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla, pumpkin pie spice, salt, and baking powder until smooth. Whisk in the milk (and yogurt if using).

2. Mix the dry oats into the pumpkin mixture, and add the pecans, if using. Coat an 8-by-8-inch baking dish with nonstick spray or a small amount of oil. Pour in the pumpkin oat mixture, cover with foil, and bake for 45 minutes or until center is set, removing the foil after the first 30 minutes.

3. Divide into portions and serve topped with milk or yogurt, nuts, maple syrup, or whatever else you like (on a special occasion, I'm sure whipped cream would be fantastic).

Serves: 6–8 (original recipe says 8, but I like a hearty breakfast and split it into 6 instead)
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Great; will last in a sealed container in the refrigerator for at least a week. I bake it, let it cool, divide it into portions, put them in separate covered bowls in the fridge, and heat one up in the microwave each morning, pouring milk over the top before eating; you could also just cover the original baking dish and scoop out a serving each morning. 

BEEF, MUSHROOM, AND FARRO SOUP

This was my second time cooking farro. My first attempt didn’t go so well. I don’t think the recipe itself was the problem (so I won’t link to it), or my execution of it; in retrospect, it was just a poor choice for introducing a new ingredient, since it had a format (grain salad) and a main component (squash) that aren’t necessarily slam dunks for us, especially for A. He flat out disliked it, and by extension decided he was anti-farro. I valiantly tried to convince myself I didn’t think it was so bad, but after slowly wading through the leftovers over the course of a week, I had to admit that it wasn’t really to my taste either. I did kind of enjoy the chewy texture and nutty flavor of the farro itself—which was good, because I had another whole cup of farro still sitting in my cupboard. (I always overbuy in the bulk section at Whole Foods; everything looks so much smaller there!)

For my second attempt, I decided I had to be much smarter in my approach: crowdpleasing ingredients, not too exotic, not too farro-centric. When this recipe from A Good Appetite popped up in my Google Reader, it seemed ideal. A loves beef, I love mushrooms, the farro plays a supporting role, and the whole thing is basically just familiar beef and barley soup with the barley traded for farro. Despite the fact that I have no particular love for beef soup or stews, it still looked pretty appetizing. I decided to go for it…and then, as I tend to do, I immediately started having doubts. There weren’t many ingredients; would it be too boring? Should I add something to perk it up? And what exactly is “stew beef,” anyway?

Google answered the last question for me (and then, of course, I walked right into Whole Foods and found a package of meat actually labeled “stew beef,” so problem solved). As for the others: I did make a few small adjustments to enhance the flavor, using cremini mushrooms instead of button, using fresh rosemary instead of dried, substituting chicken broth for half of the beef broth (as recommended here; I find beef stock too intense sometimes), and garnishing with minced parsley, which I adore with mushrooms. Also, tasting the soup midway through its cooking time, it seemed to lack a bit of acidity; I considered adding a splash of balsamic vinegar but then remembered that I had an open bottle of red wine in the fridge, so I used that instead and it was perfect. (If you don’t have, don’t drink, or don’t want to buy red wine, I still think the balsamic would work as an alternative—maybe start with a tablespoonful and see what you think.) The end result was certainly not boring. We both thought it was incredibly delicious. The flavor was rich and savory (the soy sauce, which I never would have thought of on my own, was a nice touch, amplifying the umami of the beef and mushrooms even further) and I loved how the farro added texture and substance, giving you something to chew on without being as exhaustingly grainy as the failed farro salad had been. This soup—something with both can agree on, and easy enough to make on a weeknight to boot—is definitely a keeper, and farro has officially been approved for further experimentation in our kitchen. I can’t wait to try it in other ways…I just have to make sure to choose my recipes carefully.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound stew beef, cut into ¾-inch cubes
8 ounces cremini mushrooms
2 medium yellow onions, halved and then thinly sliced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
2 cups beef broth
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
½ cup red wine (optional)
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary
1 cup farro
Salt and pepper to taste
Minced fresh Italian parsley to taste (I used about ⅓ cup)

1. In a large, heavy soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Salt and pepper the beef, then add the beef to the pot and sauté until cooked through. Add the mushrooms and onions. Sauté for a few minutes, until the onions are tender and the mushrooms have released their liquid. Add the garlic and sauté another minute.

2. Add the broth, water, wine (if using), soy sauce, and rosemary. Bring to a boil. Add the farro. Bring to a boil again. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover partially, and simmer for 20 minutes or until the farro is tender (it should still have a slight toothiness to it). If the soup seems too thick, add another cup of water.

3. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve sprinkled with parsley.

Serves: 6
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

CARDAMOM COOKIES

I made these cookies last Christmas and never managed to take a photo of them. I made them again this Christmas and only remembered to get a picture of them when they were already placed on the Christmas Eve cookie trays, ready to be devoured. So the photo isn’t the best, but honestly, they’re very homely cookies. It doesn’t help that I can’t seem to manage to get the shape to resemble the illustration in the original Sunset recipe—last year they spread so much that the two ends of the horseshoe fused together (A said they looked like butts), and this year they didn’t flatten out at all (A said they looked like turds). I’m not sure why they have to be in a horseshoe shape; I’m tempted to give up on it entirely next time, but then they’d just be plain brown circles, which could look even less tempting. At least I can pretend this odd shape has some sort of charming traditional Scandinavian significance. Plus, they resemble the letter C, which seems very apropos: C is for “cookie,” and “cardamom,” and “Christmas.”

Anyone who’s actually brave enough to grab one of these unglamorous blobs off the platter is in for a rare treat, at least if they like cardamom, which fortunately many of my family members do. As I’ve mentioned many times, I adore the stuff and am always adding it to recipes that don’t call for it, so it’s refreshing to see it featured so prominently. This is a serious dose of cardamom in a simple, buttery cookie. The recipe seems a bit odd—it doesn’t have many of the usual cookie ingredients, like eggs, salt, or vanilla—I promise you, it works. These have already become a family favorite, and buttlike, turdlike, or plain-Jane as they may look, they’re part of my holiday ritual now.

P.S. I finally got around to adding a button to my posts to convert them into a friendlier format for printing! I was printing off some recipes from other blogs today and lamenting how annoying it is when that feature isn’t available, forcing me to print a lot of unnecessary material spread over many pages or paste the recipe into Word and print from there. Then I realized that I’m a huge hypocrite because that’s exactly what I put people through with my own blog. (I guess I’m still in denial that anyone might be reading, let alone cooking from, this site.) Or perhaps you’re all cool and modern and you don’t print things anymore and you just cook directly from your iPad or phone or whatever? Well, la-di-dah. But this button also converts the posts to a PDF and lets you email them to yourself, so you might still find it useful. See what a nice friend I am?

1 cup (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
⅔ cup sugar
1 tablespoon dark molasses
2 cups all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon ground cardamom
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1. In a large bowl, with a mixer on medium speed, beat butter and sugar until smooth. Add molasses and beat until well blended.

2. In a medium bowl, mix flour, baking soda, cardamom, and cinnamon. Beat into butter mixture until well blended. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and chill until dough is firm, about 1 hour.

3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

4. Shape dough into 1-inch balls. With lightly floured hands, roll each ball into a rope about 2½ inches long and ½ inch thick; bend each rope into a horseshoe. Place cookies about 2 inches apart on parchment-lined or buttered baking sheets.

5. Bake cookies just until edges begin to brown, 7 to 9 minutes; rotating pans halfway through baking. Let cookies cool on pans for 5 minutes, then use a spatula to transfer to racks to cool completely.

Yields: About 3 dozen
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good; freeze well

CHILI-LIME ROASTED SQUASH SALAD

I was in serious danger of getting tired of butternut squash. The squash = winter equation is so ingrained in me, and I have so many great squash recipes, from soup to pizza to pasta, that I end up buying one about every other week, but lately I’ve been less enamored of its mushy (sometimes mealy) sweetness. What I needed was to spice things up, literally. When I spotted this Everyday Food recipe at The Bitten Word, I was intrigued by its flavor profile. Instead of pairing squash with the usual suspects—fallish ingredients like sage, maple, cinnamon, apples and pears, or sausage—it went in the opposite direction, with the summery-seeming southwestern tastes of chili, lime, and cilantro. It turns out that the heat of the spice, the tang of the citrus, and the herby freshness were exactly what I needed to shake off the squash doldrums.

I followed the recipe exactly, except that I threw in a bit of smoky chipotle chili powder with the regular stuff (recommended), and since I’m not especially passionate about Romaine hearts and noticed that the photo on the Bitten Word showed different greens instead, I used a bagged baby spring mix from Trader Joe’s. The recipe is a bit vague about what temperature the squash should be when you serve it; I like warm salads when they involve spinach or arugula, but hate wilted lettuce, so I compromised and went with room temperature. Roasted squash is always best right out of the oven, when the exterior is still crisp and caramelized, but the leftovers the next day were decent despite the soggier squash; I heated it briefly in the microwave (less than 30 seconds) just to take the chill off it before I added it to the greens.

This is just a personal taste thing, but I think next time I might cube the squash instead of slicing it, then just toss it with the olive oil and chili powders instead of sprinkling the chili powder on top—that would distribute the seasoning more evenly, help the squash cook more quickly, and make the salad easier to eat. I loved the salty crunch of the pepitas as a foil for the tenderness of the squash, but the cheese (I used feta, since I had some on hand) didn’t do as much for me; its creaminess seemed to blend too much with the squash, and it didn’t add much beyond salt and color contrast. I can’t believe I’m saying this, since I’m usually more apt to add feta to recipes that don’t call for it, but I think next time I’d leave it off entirely. Maybe cotija, which seems a bit drier and firmer, might work better, but for me, I’d rather just eat a quesadilla on the side to round this out into a meal than include cheese in the salad.

Chili + lime + cilantro is one of my favorite flavor combinations, but I never would have thought to apply it to squash (even though of course it’s been done before; now I want to try this version). I’m so glad I found this fantastic salad to expand my horizons and rehab the poor old butternut.

1 butternut squash (about 2 pounds), peeled, halved, seeded, and cut crosswise into ½-inch slices
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon chili powder (I like to use ½ teaspoon regular and ½ teaspoon chipotle)
Salt and pepper
3 tablespoons lime juice (1–2 limes)
⅓ cup chopped fresh cilantro
¾ teaspoon honey
1 head Romaine lettuce, chopped, or about 5 ounces mixed spring greens
¼ cup toasted pepitas
¾ cup (3 ounces) crumbled Cotija or feta cheese (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. On a rimmed baking sheet, toss squash with 1 tablespoon oil and arrange in a single layer. Sprinkle with chili powder and season with salt and pepper. Bake until soft and lightly golden, 20 to 25 minutes.

3. Whisk together lime juice, cilantro, honey, and remaining 3 tablespoons oil; season with salt and pepper.

4. Arrange lettuce on a platter or in serving bowls, then top with squash, pepitas, and cheese, if using; drizzle with dressing.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: OK; store all components (roasted squash, dressing, greens, pepitas, and cheese) separately and assemble right before eating.

CHEESY BROCCOLI QUINOA CASSEROLE WITH CHICKEN

Despite hailing from Minnesota, one of the nation’s foremost centers of casserole (or, as we call it, “hot dish”) technology, I’ve never had the cheesy broccoli rice casserole on which this recipe is based. Apparently, it features Velveeta and canned cream of mushroom soup, which, let’s face it, made occasional appearances in my childhood but were certainly not staples of our diet, and I’ve never been much of a rice lover, so it’s not surprising I dodged that bullet. (Sorry, cheesy-broccoli-rice-cassorole fans; I’m sure the original version is surprisingly tasty despite its humble ingredients.) Annie’s Eats developed this less processed version in September, but although I rely heavily on that site, I somehow overlooked the recipe until November, when this adaptation appeared at Confections of a Foodie Bride.

I think the photo, showing a delicious-looking, browned, cheesy crust atop a green-spangled expanse of quinoa, is what got my mouth watering. I’m definitely a fan of the broccoli-cheddar combo, and I’m always looking for different ways to serve quinoa but hadn’t yet tried a successful casserole version. (My previous attempt had actually been kind of gross.) Once I realized this was basically mac and cheese made with quinoa and broccoli, I was naturally on board. I ended up making a hybrid of the two recipes; I liked the Foodie Bride use of real garlic and mustard instead of the powdered forms, but I went with Annie’s shallots over yellow onion and her addition of cooked chicken (I just poached some breasts) so I didn’t have to cook anything else to serve alongside. Then I scaled all the quantities (except the garlic, broccoli, and cheese, because who doesn’t want more of those things?) back by one-third, since the original recipes claimed to serve between eight and twelve people and we are but two, albeit a hungry two who would be eating this as a main dish.

The result was delicious, creamy and comforting without feeling heavy at all, and even A, a noted quinoa skeptic who is hardly passionate about broccoli, enjoyed it enough to happily consume leftovers. This is a welcome addition to my quinoa recipe library (where it joins fritters, hash, a couple of soups, and many, many salads) and my very limited hot dish—er, casserole—repertoire.

1 cup quinoa, uncooked
2 medium crowns of broccoli, cut into small florets
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 shallots, diced
1⅓ cups milk
1 clove garlic, minced
2 generous teaspoons Dijon mustard
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
Salt and pepper to taste
8 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1⅓ cups shredded cooked chicken

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Place the quinoa in a saucepan with water and ½ teaspoon salt, bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, until all liquid is absorbed. Transfer the quinoa to a 9-by-13 casserole dish.

3. Steam the broccoli until crisp-tender and add it to the quinoa in the casserole dish.

4. In a medium sauté pan over medium heat, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour, shallots, garlic, mustard, cayenne, a generous pinch of salt and black pepper. Let cook 1 to 2 minutes and then slowly add the milk, whisking until the sauce is smooth. Let the sauce simmer, reducing the heat if necessary, about 5 minutes, until thickened and bubbling. Remove from heat and, a handful at a time, whisk in the all cheddar except about ½ cup or so (which you will reserve to sprinkle atop the casserole). Stir until cheese is completely melted, then season sauce with salt and pepper to taste.

5. Add chicken to the quinoa-broccoli mixture, then pour the sauce over it. Toss to coat, mixing well. Sprinkle the reserved cheddar over the top.

6. Bake 35 to 40 minutes, until the top is nicely browned.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good

ROASTED TOMATO, KALE, AND FETA PIZZA

When I named Roasted Cherry Tomatoes as one of my top 10 2012 recipes, I mentioned that I’d finally managed to do something with them beyond shoving them directly into my mouth. That something was this pizza recipe, which I adapted from Annie’s Eats to use the tomato-roasting method I’m already used to. As you can imagine, since it features not only the roasted tomatoes but also two of my other food obsessions, kale and feta, I adored the result; the earthy kale and salty cheese are the perfect foils for the tart-sweet tomatoes.

The original recipe had you make a garlic-and-hot-pepper-infused oil that you brushed onto the crust before adding the other toppings, but I’m lazy, and I figured my tomatoes would already be adding enough oil, so I just added the garlic and red pepper flakes to the kale when I sautéed it and it was just dandy.

All my pizza recipe quantities are approximate (I usually just eyeball the toppings until it seems like I’ve added enough), but since I made it quite a while ago, this one may be even more so. I made a full batch of roasted tomatoes—some leftover cherry tomatoes I had lying around, plus some small plum-like heirloom tomatoes that I cut into slices—but I don’t think I put them all on the pizza; I probably just snacked on the rest. And I may have used more cheese. Just do what feels right to you, but definitely make this pizza, because it’s a winner. I’m already hungry for more.

1 pint cherry tomatoes, any color, stemmed (you can also use 5–6 plum tomatoes)
¼ cup + 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 tablespoon Grade B maple syrup
½ teaspoon coarse salt, plus extra to taste
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
3-4 cups kale leaves, stemmed and roughly chopped
1 pound pizza dough
2 ounces mozzarella, shredded
4 ounces crumbled feta cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Slice the cherry tomatoes in half (or, if using plum tomatoes, slice them into ½-inch-thick slices) and place them on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet. In a small bowl, whisk together the ¼ cup olive oil, maple syrup, and ½ teaspoon salt. Pour the mixture over the tomatoes and gently toss until well coated. Arrange the tomatoes in a single layer, cut side up, and roast, without stirring, until the tomatoes shrink a bit and caramelize around the edges, 45 to 60 minutes. (You can do this up to a week ahead of time if you like—just let the tomatoes cool, scrape them into a glass or plastic container along with any liquid that was left on the baking sheet, seal tightly, and store in the refrigerator.)

2. In a medium skillet over medium heat, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for 1 minute, then add the kale to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, just until the leaves are wilted. Season with a little salt to taste, then remove from the heat and set aside.

3. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Roll out the pizza dough on a baking sheet dusted with cornmeal. Sprinkle the shredded mozzarella over the dough, then add the wilted kale, roasted tomatoes to taste (you may not use all of them), and feta.

4. Bake pizza until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the crust is lightly browned, about 10–12 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool slightly before slicing and serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Good.

CREAM OF MUSHROOM SOUP

I have a dim recollection of liking canned cream of mushroom soup when I was a kid, but I hadn’t thought much about it in 25 years or so. At some point I acquired a recipe for a hideous-yet-tasty pureed creamless mushroom-potato soup that’s vaguely similar in flavor, but when this “Wild Mushroom Soup” recipe from Ezra Pound Cake popped up in my Google Reader a couple of months ago, it seemed to fill a need I didn’t even know I’d felt. Instantly, I craved it. I didn’t expect it to replicate the canned stuff, and it doesn’t—it is, of course, much better. This sophisticated iteration is light on the dairy, more brothy than creamy (contrast it with Ina Garten’s no-doubt-delicious version, which contains a whole stick of butter, 1 cup of half-and-half, and 1 cup of cream), brightened with lemon juice and spiked with a bit of sherry.

I made the recipe as written, except that since shiitakes are more expensive and come in smaller packages at Trader Joe’s (and, honestly, I don’t like them quite as well), I used less of them (about 4 ounces) and more cremini. The original recipe says this is just fine; you can even use all cremini if you prefer. I’d maybe add a little fresh thyme next time, because it’s just so good with mushrooms, but overall we both really enjoyed this soup. It’s bound to be the one I turn to when the mushroom jones strikes again.

¼ cup unsalted butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
½ pound cremini mushrooms, sliced
½ pound shiitake mushrooms, sliced
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
4 cups chicken broth (or vegetable or mushroom broth to make it vegetarian)
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
¼ cup dry sherry
¼ cup heavy cream
1 pinch of cayenne pepper
Salt to taste
Chopped fresh chives for garnish (about ¼ cup)

1. Melt the butter over medium heat in a large sauté pan or Dutch oven.

2. Add the onion and cook until soft and transparent.

3. Add the mushrooms and cook for 10 minutes.

4. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the flour, 1 tablespoon at a time.

5. Return the pan to low heat and pour in the broth, stirring constantly. Add the pepper, nutmeg, lemon juice, and sherry.

6. Simmer the soup over medium heat for 10 minutes.

7. Add the cream and stir until the soup is hot. Add the cayenne and season with salt to taste. If the soup looks thinner than you’d like, you can remove half of it, puree it, and then return it to the pot.

8. Transfer to serving bowls and garnish with chives.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: Great; flavor gets better with time and it freezes well.

KALE SALAD WITH APPLES, ALMONDS, AND PECORINO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FAVORITE RECIPES OF 2012

I think approximately 85% of the Internet is “year in review” lists this week. At some point in January I usually choose favorite recipes from the previous year and link to them in my sidebar, but I haven’t actually written a post about my selections since…2009, apparently? For whatever reason, this year I’m jumping back on the bandwagon to shill for my best-of picks—even though I technically have yet to tell you about the last six or so things I actually cooked in 2012. I resolve get caught up, but in the meantime, here are (in chronological order) the 10 recipes that rocked my world the hardest last year. If you haven’t tried them yet, what are you waiting for?

1. Quinoa Fritters With Poached Eggs: Quinoa is oh so trendy nowadays, and this is an unexpected and alluring treatment of it—in fact, it’s really the only way that A will eat quinoa without complaint. Also notable: This marked my first attempt at making poached eggs, which would become a bit of an obsession for me throughout the year. (I didn’t perfect them until the following month with Warm Lentil Salad With Poached Egg, a favorite recipe that just missed the top 10; go there for a link to my preferred method.)
   
2. Kale Salad With Squash, Cheddar, and Almonds: Two hipster foods in a row! I’ve been on the kale bandwagon for a few years, but this was my first kale salad, and although I went on to try many others, it’s still the best I’ve found.
3. Tortellini With Sausage, Mushrooms, Fennel, and Spinach: It wouldn’t be a top 10 list for me without pasta. This recipe combines a lot of my favorite ingredients into one supergroup that somehow doesn’t manage to go over the top.
4. Blueberry Corn Salad: Sounds so weird, tastes so good. This unique, uber-summery combination was one of the nicest surprises I had all year. It made good use of my huge surplus of hand-picked blueberries and helped fuel my “put a fruit on it” mania…
5. Peach, Prosciutto, and Basil Pizza: …Which eventually led to this awesome pizza. Although Strawberry Pizza came first and was plenty tasty, this simple-yet-genius combo is the one that really blew my mind. (Update: I am pleased to report that my cast-iron skillet has finally recovered from the burnt-balsamic fiasco of my first attempt, and on later tries I learned that drizzling the reduction over the top after baking works better for me.)
6. Roasted Cherry Tomatoes: Both delicious and practical! I often have cherry tomato oversupply, so I’ve made these more times than I can count. Usually I end up gobbling them straight off the baking sheet, but near the end of the year I finally managed to put them on a pizza and the results were spectacular (recipe coming soon).
7. Orange Quinoa Salad With Chicken, Cucumber, and Cranberries: Quite possibly the world’s most perfect quinoa salad. If I had to eat just one thing for lunch for the rest of my life, this would be a serious contender. Bonus points for leading to my discovery of how to poach chicken perfectly.
8. Refrigerator Oatmeal: Literally life-changing, at least within the realm of breakfast. My consumption of storebought cereal has dwindled considerably thanks to this easy and clever strategy. When I don’t have baked oatmeal or granola on hand, this is my go-to. I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of all the different ways it could be customized.
9. Peanut-Lime Chicken Rice Noodle Salad: So refreshing and satisfying, it’s actually worth buying and juicing 10 limes for. As a bonus, it helped me overcome my fear of fish sauce.
10. Spicy Honey-Roasted Peanuts: This list has been suspiciously healthy—kale, two quinoa dishes, multiple salads, 50% vegetarian—but I swear it’s an accident; I can’t take credit for being quite so conscientious in real life. It just so happened that I didn’t try any totally amazing new dessert recipes this year, so this sweet-salty snack will have to do. I tried a number of lighter recipes for flavored roasted nuts this year, all of which were delectable, but this one wins for being the most magical-seeming and the most addictive.

Most of the recipes I made this year were winners, or at least I never immortalized the duds, so it was hard to choose favorites. Here are five honorable mentions that represent new ingredients or techniques I’m pretty pleased to have tried:

1. Crispy Pork Medallions (which simply must be paired with another 2012 find, Roasted Carrots and Parsnips With Fennel and Orange) introduced me to pork tenderloin and is so far the only way I care to eat it.
2. When we do eat out, we usually choose Japanese, Afghani, Himalayan, Thai, or Indian food, so I’ve never felt too invested in trying to explore those cuisines at home, but making Chicken Tikka Masala and Garlic Naan helped change my mind. Maybe they couldn’t compete with the authentic restaurant versions, but they were awfully tasty and fun to make.
3. I claim not to care for rice, at least when it comes to home cooking, but the Coconut Cardamom Rice Pudding I made on a whim as a way to use up leftovers remains the dessert I think of wistfully on a near-daily basis. Since I rarely have cooked rice sitting around, one of my 2013 goals is to make a similar version that starts with uncooked rice. This will also be an important solution to the jars of very old basmati and Arborio taking up my valuable cupboard space.
4. Somehow I had never really cooked with chard, which I remedied by making this wonderful Swiss Chard and Lemon Ricotta Pasta, my runner-up for best pasta recipe of the year.
5. It’s hard to improve on perfection, but I found an even better (and veggie-laden) way to make one of my favorite recipes of all time, Chicken Gyros.

At this rate, I’m excited to see what kitchen discoveries 2013 will bring. Will this be the year I learn to love beets or Brussels sprouts or green peppers? (Probably not, but you never know.) Will I attempt DIY grenadine, crème fraiche, ricotta, flour tortillas, marshmallows, English muffins, yogurt, ketchup, vanilla extract, or limoncello? (I’ve had some of those bookmarked for multiple years, so probably not, but if I’m unemployed for an extended length of time—I haven’t mentioned it here, but my job of 8½ years is ending on January 31—I’ll have to keep busy somehow.) I hesitate to set too many cooking goals for myself because I like the serendipity of following my cravings and stumbling across new discoveries, plus I’ve already got so many great old favorites that I barely have time to make them all on a regular basis, but I would like to do more canning and baking. Specifically:

1. Pizza dough: It’s ridiculous I don’t already do this myself, but the Trader Joe’s stuff is just so very cheap and convenient and reliable and decent. I know the homemade stuff isn’t that hard and can taste even better; it’s just a question of finding the right recipe for me.
2. Pie crust: I’ve wanted to make pie for a number of years but am irrationally spooked about it. Clearly this is a fear that needs to be conquered…deliciously.
3. Mustard: As you know, I am a reformed mustard hater who is steadily growing addicted to the stuff. I don’t think I’ve written about it, but I experimentally canned two kinds of mustard for Christmas 2011, with mixed results (one of them was just plain awful). This year I improved my technique and tried three kinds, two of which turned out great and one of which was just OK. The two that were most successful were both sweet mustards, which is fine for gift-giving, but I’d like to perfect something more savory I can use in my daily life, specifically, a replacement for my beloved Grey Poupon Country Dijon, which I consume in ever-increasing quantities but is annoyingly expensive at my grocery store. Yes, there are probably better-quality mustards out there (although in my frantic Googling for DIY versions, I’ve noticed that it does seem to have won a lot of taste tests), but I’m a newbie and this is the mustard that won me over, so I’m partial to it. It might be too much to hope that I could replicate it exactly at home, but since mustard is so easy and fun to make, I’d like to at least explore the possibilities. This will probably be just for my personal use rather than for canning and future gifting (I’ve found annoyingly few recipes that are specifically designed for water-bath canning), but there are two more in the Ball book that I’d like to try as well.
4. Pickles. I love them and I love canning, so why have I not canned pickles? I want to start with garlic dills, then try dilly beans.

Finally, I’m toying with the idea of entering a jam or two into competition at the LA County Fair. I checked out the display last year and it didn’t seem to be a very crowded category, and nothing I saw looked especially remarkable in terms of gourmet flavor combinations, so if I can enter something unique, I might actually have a shot at a ribbon, which would be kind of cool in an oddball way. 

PAN-FRIED PUMPKIN RICOTTA GNOCCHI

Sorry I’ve been missing in action for the past month; I’m cooking as regularly as always, if perhaps less ambitiously, but work chaos and holiday tasks have kept me too distracted to sit down and marshal my thoughts about it. So now you get to read a whole series of posts about meals I made so long ago that I can’t remember anything about them, except that they were tasty. (There were some less tasty ones, but I’m skipping them in the interest of efficiency.) Hopefully I’ll be back on track soon, but in the meantime, let’s hop in the wayback machine to October/November, when we were all excited about pumpkin things. (Remember pumpkin? It’s what dominated the food blogs before peppermint took over.)

I love my lemon-ricotta gnocchi recipe so much that I’ve been meaning to explore other variations, and I’d had this Simply Recipes pumpkin one bookmarked for nearly a year, but when autumn finally rolled around and I got serious enough to read it more closely, it didn’t seem exactly like what I wanted—for instance, it had a greater proportion of flour than I’m used to, and it had you boil the gnocchi before pan-frying them. I started Googling around a bit for other options, thinking I could study up and then invent my own version based on the lemon-ricotta recipe. Well, surprise, surprise: Steamy Kitchen, the source of my beloved original, already had a pumpkin adaptation! Done and done.

I did make a few changes to hew even closer to the recipe I already know and love, ditching the delicious-sounding-but-too-futzy-and-indulgent-for-weeknight-dinner fried sage and brown-butter-balsamic-vinegar sauce. Instead I added sage to the gnocchi dough itself and garnished with a bit more (replacing the parsley of the lemon-ricotta version), and threw some red pepper flakes on top to provide some zip and counterbalance the pumpkin, both excellent choices. The result was a subtle twist on my old favorite—festively orange, a bit sweeter but not overwhelmingly squashy, pungent with sage. I’ll admit that the squash makes the texture a bit less light and fluffy, so if it were a contest between the two the lemon-ricotta would still come out ahead, but it’s nice to have a fall variation to celebrate the season. Next time I might contemplate adding a tiny bit of nutmeg and/or cinnamon, which could very well be disastrous but might amp up the pumpkin theme a bit more.

In point of fact, mine were actually butternut squash gnocchi. I believe I’ve read somewhere that most commercial canned pumpkin products are really made up of other winter squashes, so clearly the taste and texture differences are negligible. I had the butt end of a squash languishing uselessly around the kitchen, and although it seemed very inconvenient I screwed up my Dutch thriftiness, gritted my teeth, and made my own squash puree… which turned out to be incredibly easy. I did it a few days ahead, when I had the time, and it kept just fine in the fridge until I was ready to use it. I’m not saying I’ll abandon the canned pumpkin entirely, but this is a good way to use up leftover squash when you have it. (Directions for the puree are in the footnote below.)

I like to serve my lemon-ricotta gnocchi tossed with steamed or roasted asparagus to offset the fact that I’m basically eating fried cheese for dinner. I couldn’t come up with a fall/winter vegetable to throw into the pumpkin version, so I just served a kale salad on the side. It ended up being the perfect combination.

½ cup skim-milk ricotta
½ cup pumpkin or squash puree, canned or fresh*
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for garnishing
1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt (or ½ teaspoon table salt)
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage, plus extra for garnishing
1 cup all-purpose flour (spooned in and leveled), plus more for dusting
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
¼ to ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
Black pepper to taste

*To make your own puree, cut a small sugar pumpkin or other winter squash in half, scoop out and discard the seeds and strings, lay the halves face down on a foil-lined baking sheet, and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to an hour, until soft. Allow to cool, then scoop out the flesh and mash it with a fork until smooth (use a food mill, food processor, or immersion blender if you want it super-smooth).

1. Combine ricotta, pumpkin, ½ cup Parmesan, egg yolk, 1 teaspoon lemon zest, salt, and 1 tablespoon sage in a large bowl. Mix well. Sprinkle half of the flour over the mixture and gently turn a few times with a spatula to incorporate it. Dump the mixture on a clean, lightly floured work surface. Sprinkle the remaining flour on top of the mixture and gently knead with your fingertips, just bringing the dough together until the flour is incorporated. (This should only take a minute or two; any longer and you will be overkneading.)

2. Divide the dough into four equal parts. Take each part and roll it into a long log, 1 inch in diameter. Cut each log into 1-inch-long pieces.

3. Heat a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the butter and olive oil. When butter is just lightly browned, add gnocchi in a single layer. Fry for 2 minutes, then flip them over. Sprinkle with red pepper flakes and fry for another 2 minutes. Taste one to see if it’s done—if you taste the flour, it needs to cook longer.

4. Serve with a sprinkling of Parmesan, sage, and black pepper.

Serves: 2–4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: I haven’t attempted it, but probably not very good. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that fried cheese is best served fresh from the pan.

MUSTARD-ROASTED SAUSAGE, POTATOES, APPLES, AND ONIONS

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

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

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

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

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

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

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

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

BROCCOLI SLAW WITH APPLES, WALNUTS, AND CRANBERRIES

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PUMPKIN BUTTERSCOTCH OATMEAL COOKIES

I love trying new cookie recipes, because they rarely if ever turn out badly. In this case, how could adding pumpkin and spices (yes, I am firmly on board the pumpkin train after years of resistance, and that train is delicious) to the standard oatmeal scotchies recipe be anything but tasty? The pumpkin creates a nice amber color and tender cakiness, the spices help balance the intensely sweet, slightly artificial flavor (I say that in a loving way) of the butterscotch chips, and the whole thing is heartily fallish (if not very photogenic; I think mine are especially homely).

The major change I made to the original recipe was to make my own spice mixture, instead of using premixed pumpkin pie spice augmented by other spices. I went with a similar combination to the one I’ve used in all my other pumpkin recipes, but because I didn’t feel like doing endless math to match the exact amount, it made a little more than the recipe calls for, so you’ll have find some other use for the extra (I threw it into my refrigerator oatmeal the next day). I also increased the salt from ¼ teaspoon to ½ teaspoon, which seemed necessary to counteract the richness of the butterscotch chips (it’s also the amount used in the traditional oatmeal scotchies recipe, at least as published on the Quaker oatmeal package). I would maybe consider cutting back slightly on the butterscotch chips; 1½ cups (nearly but not quite an entire bag, according to my measurements) made for a very sweet result, and some of my cookies seemed more like clumps of chips loosely held together with a bit of dough. I found myself longing for more of the oatmeal-pumpkin portion, so I might try just 1 cup next time. Lastly, I think I could have made my cookies a little larger, because I got about 10 more than the original recipe did. But since when is having extra cookies really a problem?

1¼ cup cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon cardamom
⅛ teaspoon ground ginger
⅛ teaspoon ground cloves
⅛ teaspoon allspice
⅛ teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
¾ cup granulated sugar
¾ cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup pumpkin puree
3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1–1½ cups butterscotch chips

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat and set aside.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt.

3. In a small bowl, whisk together cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, cloves, allspice, and nutmeg. Measure out 1¼ teaspoons of the spice mixture and add it to the bowl with the flour mixture, whisking well to combine. Save the rest of the spice mixture for another use.

4. In the bowl of a stand mixer using the paddle attachment (or just in a large bowl using a handheld electric mixer), beat butter, sugar, and brown sugar until smooth and creamy. Add egg and vanilla extract and mix again. Add pumpkin and mix until combined (mixture may appear curdled, but it’s fine).

5. Turn the mixer speed to low and slowly add in flour mixture, mixing until just combined. Stir in oats and butterscotch chips.

6. Drop dough by heaping tablespoons onto prepared baking sheets. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until the cookies are set and golden. Remove cookies from the oven and cool on the baking sheet for 2 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and cool completely.

Yields: About 3 dozen cookies (original recipe said 2½ dozen; I got 40)
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; freezes well.