PAN-FRIED LEMON-RICOTTA GNOCCHI

I’ve been wanting to try making my own pasta for a while now, but am basically too lazy/scared, so I use my lack of hardware as an excuse (I’m still waiting for Santa to bring me that KitchenAid pasta roller attachment). Gnocchi seems slightly more manageable, but it’s still a lot of work to boil and mash all those potatoes, and my few early attempts, back when I was just beginning to cook for myself on a regular basis, were less than inspiring (granted, I think I could do a lot better now, armed with slightly improved kitchen skillz and a perfect recipe). But when I saw this recipe for ricotta gnocchi at Steamy Kitchen and realized I’m out of excuses. The fact that the gnocchi were pan-fried all crispy and brown, instead of the pale soggy lumpen things gnocchi can sometimes be, was the final nail in the coffin. I had some extra ricotta in the fridge anyway, so I chalked it up to destiny.

I suppose that coffin metaphor might become all too apt if I start eating too much ricotta gnocchi. It occurred to me as I was cooking that it’s just basically lemon-flavored cheese fried in butter. Then I took my first bite and I didn’t care. This is fantastic stuff, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Eat a small bowl every now and then, with a gigantic salad (or in our case, a big pile of roasted aspararagus) on the side and you will live a happy life. What’s more, the recipe takes hardly any time and requires zero special skills. (Can you mix things in a bowl? Mush them around with your fingers? Cut dough into pieces? Bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan? Oops, sorry, I started singing for a minute there.) Rolling the dough into ropes was about as hard as it got, and certainly that didn’t even require much precision; it was mostly cosmetic anyway. I’m sure you could cook this in ugly dollops and it would taste just as good. You’ll notice my gnocchi got somewhat big and square, and I still loved them. I don’t judge a book by its cover, or a lemony cheese ball by its shape or lack thereof.

I’d be interested in trying to actually serve the gnocchi mixed up with some vegetables, as seen on the Smitten Kitchen with pan-fried potato gnocchi (drool...it’s that photo of the gnocchi with the tomatoes and green beans and white beans in a warm pasta-saladlike treatment that made me want to make my own gnocchi in the first place). Not only would it taste great, but it would diminish the classy-version-of-State-Fair-cheese-curds guilty undertone I kept feeling while I ate this. But seriously, it's truly a magical recipe, the kind you (yes, you!) should try right away. Because mostly, I was too busy thinking (even though I can’t take credit for the recipe) “This is awesome! I’m a genius!” as I ate to really worry about anything except getting the next forkful to my mouth. And that is always a nice feeling.

Also, did you notice that my lemon obsession is continuing unabated?

P.S. June 2008: I cemented my genius reputation by making this again, this time tossing the gnocchi and its buttery sauce with blanched asparagus between steps 3 and 4 of the recipe. Bingo! The asparagus adds a new dimension of flavor (greenness!), while acting as a natural complement to the cheese and lemon. If possible, it was even more delicious than last time, and erased the I'm-eating-a-big-bowl-of-fried-cheese feeling. And it was really pretty. See, look!


1 cup whole-milk ricotta (if you use skim-milk ricotta, you may have to use more flour because the ricotta will be more watery)
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (plus extra for garnishing)
1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon lemon zest (plus extra for garnishing)
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt (or ½ teaspoon regular salt)
1 tablespoon minced parsley (plus extra for garnishing)
¾ cup all-purpose flour (spooned in and leveled)
¼ to ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
Black pepper to taste

1. Combine ricotta, ½ cup Parmesan, egg yolk, 1 teaspoon lemon zest, salt, and 1 tablespoon parsley 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 lemon zest, Parmesan, parsley, and black pepper.

Serves: 2ish
Time: 30 minutes

PIZZA BIANCA WITH ARUGULA, BACON, AND MUSHROOMS

I’m on a roll in more ways than one—not only do I have a really great string of new recipes to share with you this week, but I’m well on my way to my goal of being able to eat a different kind of pizza every day of the week. Let’s see, in addition to my normal traditional tomato-sauce pizza, which I’ve honed to near-perfection after much practice, we’ve got the asparagus pizza, the butternut squash pizza, and a great improvisational pizza I occasionally throw together with pesto, tomatoes, mozzarella, and maybe some sausage. And now we can add…the bacon pizza.

Of course, bacon isn’t the focus of this dish (the recipe is from Cooking Light, after all), but that’s how I sold it to A: bacon pizza! With arugula and mushrooms and ricotta. And boy, those flavors go together just perfectly: creamy cheese, sweet onions and mushrooms (I really let those suckers get melty and caramelized on the stove, semi-accidentally but it was a stroke of genius I tell you), bitter greens, salty bacony bacon. I threw in some garlic, too, and it was a wise choice.

I just used Trader Joe’s pizza dough, so I haven’t replicated the crust recipe, but you can find the original instructions here. I was also a bit less fussy than Cooking Light about healthiness: I may have used three strips of bacon instead of two (they were sort of oddly stuck together, so I can’t be sure), and didn’t pause to make sure I was cooking the mushrooms and onion in just two teaspoons of bacon drippings, and I may have used just a tiny bit more cheese, and I did not slice my pizza into twelfths, and I damn well ate more than just one piece. Still, there were a fair amount of vegetables involved, enough to make a balanced meal out of a couple slices with maybe a small salad on the side. And it was easy and it was delicious.

Dough for one pizza crust (1 lb)
2 slices thick-cut bacon, diced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
½ cup thinly sliced white onion
½ pound whole white button mushrooms, quartered
½ teaspoon salt, divided
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
½ cup ricotta cheese
2 cups baby arugula
⅓ cup shredded mozzarella cheese
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. To prepare topping, cook bacon in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat until crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain.

3. Add garlic, onion, and mushrooms to bacon drippings in pan; cook until tender and browned and moisture evaporates, stirring occasionally, about 10–15 minutes. Season with ¼ teaspoon salt and ⅛ teaspoon pepper, and remove from heat.

4. Roll out dough and place on an oiled pizza pan or baking sheet. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon oil and sprinkle with remaining ¼ teaspoon salt and ⅛ teaspoon pepper. Place pan on lowest oven rack and bake for 10 minutes.

5. Remove pan from oven; spread ricotta as evenly as possible over crust, leaving a ½-inch rim around the edges. Arrange onion-mushroom mixture and arugula evenly over ricotta. Sprinkle with bacon, mozzarella, and Parmesan. Bake for 10 more minutes, or until crust is lightly browned. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes

ROASTED ROOT VEGETABLES WITH SAUSAGE

This is one of the easiest and best improvisational dishes I’ve tried in a while. I just wish I’d thought of it first, but the credit goes to Not Eating Out in New York. So simple, yet so genius! I’ve often roasted a similar assortment of vegetables alongside a chicken, but it had never occurred to me that another, quicker-cooking meat like sausage would be an even easier way to round out the meal. (Plus, sausage and potatoes are a classic combination.) This versatile recipe is a great way to use whatever vegetables are in season at the market, especially in this early springtime when the asparagus and peas are slow in coming and the same root vegetables we’ve been eating all winter are still staring us in the face week after week. This meal bridges the gap: kind of wintery (hearty and roasty) but kind of springy (simple and colorful). And it’s incredibly versatile. I used a rainbow of different small potatoes, yams, carrots, and parsnips; I also had a pound of tricolor pearl onions getting old in my pantry, so I threw those in. The original recipe recommends adding grape tomatoes, which weren’t in season yet, so I skipped them, but I bet they would be great. I could also envision adding asparagus, green beans, zucchini, or squash to the mix, depending on the time of year.

I used chicken sausage—a kind from Trader Joe’s I hadn’t tried before, “spicy Italian with red wine and quattro formaggio.” The spiciness level was perfect—not overwhelming, but enough to balance out the sweetness of the vegetables—and the flavor was good, but the cheesy smell of the sausage was a little off-putting to me. I think I’d try a different kind next time, since there are so many out there to choose from, and each would impart a different quality to the dish.

The original recipe offers more precise timing directions, but I played fast and loose, just dumping everything in the pan and roasting until it looked like the right level of doneness to me. I’m rarely so devil-may-care with my cooking, but that’s the magic of this recipe, I guess. This is a keeper with a capital K. I think the best part was that it’s fun to eat, because each bite presented a different combination of flavors. I highly recommend eating a piece of sausage with a piece of sweet potato, and for the next forkful, a piece of potato with a big clove of garlic. Heaven!

1 pound small potatoes (red, Yukon Gold, fingerling, or a mix)
2 pounds assorted root vegetables (such as yams, carrots, parsnips, turnips, or beets)
1 onion, peeled and cut into wedges, or a handful of peeled pearl onions
4–5 whole fresh garlic cloves, peeled
1 teaspoon rosemary leaves
2–3 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
4–5 fresh sausages (any kind)
A handful of grape tomatoes (optional)
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cut vegetables down to 1-to-2-inch pieces of equal size. Mix potatoes, root vegetables, onion, garlic, rosemary, and salt and pepper to taste in a large baking dish. Coat with a drizzle of olive oil, cover with tin foil or a lid, and bake until tender, about 30 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, brown sausages on all sides in a pan or on a grill. Blot excess grease with paper towels and slice into 1-inch pieces. Remove baking dish from oven and arrange sausages and grape tomatoes (if using) atop the vegetables. Return to the oven for another 10–15 minutes, or until vegetables are browned. Toss with parsley and serve.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour

SALMON WITH LEMON-PEPPER SAUCE AND WATERCRESS-HERB SALAD

I don’t know what’s up with me lately—I’m craving lemons like crazy. I’ve always been a lemon fan (reverent pause here to contemplate lemon drops, lemonade, lemon meringue pie, lemon bars, and lemon curd), but lately it’s kicked into overdrive. Even coming into possession of an entire grocery bag full of Meyer lemons last month (because yes, I’m one of those obnoxious Californians with coworkers who have trees dripping with unwanted Meyer lemons in their backyards) only further fanned the flames of lemon-lust. This means that either (a) I’m turning into my mother, who is renowned for eating whole lemon wedges without blinking; or (b) it’s spring and there’s nothing springier than lemons, in flavor or color. (Also, they go great with asparagus, which is just coming into season.)

So when I paged through the March issue of Bon Appetit and saw this recipe for lemon-marinated salmon topped with a lemon-dressed salad and a lemon-pepper crème fraiche sauce, my eyes may have briefly bugged out of my head. I already had crème fraiche in my refrigerator, having made lemon chicken just a few nights before (see, I told you I’m lemon-obsessed), so it seemed like destiny. And indeed, this was a perfect recipe for spring—light, easy, prettily pink and green. It wasn’t quite the earth-shattering burst of awesome I’d hoped for (I don’t think I enjoyed it as much as the lemon chicken, for instance), but I’d definitely make it again, especially since I didn’t follow the (somewhat awkwardly written) recipe 100% perfectly the first time: I remembered to buy shallots, but then completely forgot to include them in the marinade, which made me sad. And I couldn’t find watercress or fresh tarragon, so I just used spring-mix salad greens with the dill. That part tasted just dandy to me, but I still would be curious to try it with the watercress. (Tarragon I can take or leave.)

I do have to admit that while I was eating, I kept thinking, “This isn’t nearly lemony enough.” Meanwhile, A kept making a pucker face. I took a bite of his food and realized I’d given him all the salad from the bottom of the bowl, where the oil and lemon juice had pooled. Next time, I’ll take that part!

2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons olive oil, plus extra for brushing
2 tablespoons chopped shallot
3 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons lemon juice, divided
1 teaspoon lemon zest, divided
1 cup crème fraiche
6 (6-ounce) salmon fillets
1½ cups (lightly packed) watercress leaves and small sprigs
¼ cup small fresh dill sprigs
¼ cup fresh tarragon leaves
Fleur de sal or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
6 lemon wedges

1. Whisk honey, 1 tablespoon olive oil, shallot, 2 tablespoons lemon juice, and ½ teaspoon lemon zest in a glass baking dish large enough to hold all the salmon fillets in a single layer. Add salmon fillets and turn to coat them with the marinade. Cover and chill 15 minutes to 1 hour, turning salmon occasionally.

2. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil and brush it with olive oil. Transfer the salmon fillets, with some marinade still clinging to them, to the baking sheet. Roast until salmon is just opaque in the center, about 14 minutes.

3. While salmon bakes, whisk crème fraiche, 1 tablespoon lemon juice, and ½ teaspoon lemon zest in a small bowl. Season with salt and a generous amount of pepper.

4. Meanwhile, toss watercress leaves and sprigs, dill sprigs, tarragon leaves, remaining 2 teaspoons lemon juice, and remaining 2 teaspoons olive oil in a medium bowl. Season with fleur de sal (or sea salt) and pepper.

5. Place 1 salmon fillet on each of six plates. Top with watercress salad. Drizzle with lemon-pepper sauce and garnish with lemon wedges. Serve with additional sauce on the side.

Serves: 6
Time: 45 minutes to 1½ hours, depending on how long you marinate

HOT CROSS BUNS

I know I’m too late for Easter, but didn’t Easter take everyone by surprise this year? According to my uncle the pastor, this year was the earliest that Easter will occur in our lifetimes—the next March 23 Easter will be in 2180—so if you were feeling harried about it, you had good reason. Just do yourself a favor and put these on your list to make next year. Or, heck, just make them now, because these spiced, raisiny, gently sweet buns really should be eaten more than once a year.

I must be in a nostalgic mood, because pre-Easter I suddenly became obsessed with the need to make hot cross buns, one of the few homemade foods I associate with the holiday besides ham and hard-boiled eggs (I’m mainly a fan of the Easter candies—oh, Cadbury eggs and mini-eggs, and Whoppers Robin Eggs, you complete me!), but one lodged mainly in my childhood—I’m not sure when I last ate one, but it seems at least 5 years ago. I’d thought I had my mom’s recipe tucked away somewhere, but when the day before Easter rolled around, I realized I was mistaken and scrambled online to see if any bloggers had a tried-and-true recipe to offer. It turns out hot cross buns aren’t quite as popular as I had imagined; they seem to be mainly a British (and Australian) phenomenon. Thanks to the awesome Food Blog Search, however, I managed to find a few options and at last settled on this one, from Emeril Lagasse via A Mingling of Tastes. This is where food blogs come in handy, because the original recipe is slightly insane. As most of the Food Network site commenters note, it calls for way too little flour in the dough (resulting in sticky goo that’s impossible to roll and manipulate as described) and way too much milk in the icing, and yields far more than the 12 rolls it claims to. Thanks to A Mingling of Tastes, I was amply forewarned about these problems (though I panicked and overcompensated with too much flour, probably 4½ cups, and my dough was a bit too stiff, and instead of getting 1 or even 1½ dozen, I got something like 30 rolls out of it, which I hastily had to pawn off on A’s and my coworkers before they got too stale). A Mingling of Tastes also suggested a heaping ½ teaspoon cardamom, which I happily embraced, because I adore cardamom and find it wildly underused; and adding ginger, allspice, and cinnamon to the mix, which I’m so glad I did. I also recalled reading that traditional hot cross bun recipes often involve candied citrus peel (yuck), and another recipe I’d seen on some other site had added orange zest instead, which sounded tasty, so I went for it and I’m so glad I did. Basically, despite the many weirdnesses of the recipe and my possible screw-ups (besides the extra flour thing, I got lazy and didn’t follow Emeril’s detailed instructions for rolling the dough into buns, and my frosting was a little runny, making my crosses more like squiggles), these hot cross buns were (sorry, mom) the best I’ve had—with the citrus and the spice, the flavor was just so delicious and they weren’t too sweet. The better to eat more Easter candy!

P.S. Also, I got to use my new silicon pastry brush, an early birthday gift, to brush on the beaten egg wash. It was so simple and easy to clean—I joyfully threw away my clumpy, oily, real-bristle one.

1 envelope (¼ ounce, or 2¼ teaspoons) dry yeast
¾ cup sugar
1½ cups warm milk (about 110 degrees F)
1 stick (½ cup) of butter, melted
1 egg
½ cup raisins
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon orange zest
3½ to 4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
1 large egg, beaten
1 cup powdered sugar
1–3 tablespoons milk

1. Combine the yeast, sugar, and milk in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook. Beat on low speed for 1 minute. Add the butter, egg, and raisins. Mix for 1 minute. Add the salt, spices, orange zest, and 3½ cups flour. Beat on low speed until all the flour is incorporated, about 1 minute. Then, beat at medium speed until the mixture forms a ball, leaves the sides of the bowl, and climbs up the dough hook. If the dough seems too wet and sticky, add up to another ½ cup of flour (or as needed).

2. Using your hands, form the dough into a smooth ball. Lightly oil a large bowl with the vegetable oil, place the dough in the bowl, and turn it to oil all sides. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside in a warm, draft-free place until it doubles in size, about 1 hour.

3. Remove the dough from the bowl and invert it onto a lightly floured surface. Pat the dough into a rectangle about ¾ inch thick. Roll up the dough, beginning with the long side and stopping after each full turn to press the edge of the roll firmly into the flat sheet of dough to seal. Tuck and roll so that any seams disappear into the dough. Cut the dough into 1-inch pieces and roll each piece into a smooth, round ball. (If you’re really lazy like me, you can just remove the dough from the bowl, pinch off 1-inch pieces, and roll them into balls.)

4. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the rolls on the baking sheet, ½ inch apart. With a pastry brush, spread the beaten egg evenly over the rolls. Cover rolls with plastic wrap and set aside in a warm, draft-free place until they double in size, about 1 hour.

5. While rolls are rising for the second time, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. When oven is hot, bake rolls until lightly brown, about 25 to 35 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool slightly on a rack.

6. In a mixing bowl, combine the powdered sugar and 1 tablespoon milk. Mix until smooth. Add additional milk as needed until icing reaches desired consistency (but remember, if you want to pipe it in a cross shape, it will need to be fairly thick—otherwise it’ll turn into more of a glaze). Ice rolls with frosting in the shape of a cross. Serve warm (leftover rolls can be reheated for 20 seconds in the microwave).

Yields: 1 to 2 dozen
Time: 3½ hours

ASIAN DUMPLING SOUP

Dudes! I love, love, love dumplings. A and I have been known to visit our local Tibetan/Nepalese restaurant and consume a meal consisting entirely of momos—steamed veggie momo appetizer, pan-fried chicken or lamb momo entrees. I get a little pouty at our favorite sushi restaurant if there are no gyoza out on the little boats that carry food around the bar. I’d like to try making my own dumplings sometime, but I don’t know why it never occurred to me to check out Trader Joe’s frozen dumpling offerings in the meantime. I guess because…what would I do with them? Dumplings for dinner is fine for the occasional eating-out treat, but it would make me feel like a college student to sit down to a big bowl of convenience-food dumplings at home. But dumplings floating in homemade chicken broth chock-full of wholesome, colorful veggies? Sign me up!

I am a fan of many Asian soups, from udon to pho to won-ton to tom kha gai, and while it’s not authentic to any one cuisine, this one sort of reminded me of all of my favorite restaurant versions at once. But unlike eating in a restaurant, I could adapt it however I liked. Usually it drives me crazy to read Epicurious comments from people who modify the recipe so much it bears no resemblance to the original: “I substituted lime for the lemon, pork for the chicken, and spinach for the arugula, then added some peanut butter and Fontina cheese. It was great!” But after I scrolled through the comments on this recipe as it was originally published in Gourmet, it did seem that this was a flexible, forgiving soup that might benefit from a bit of dressing up. Taking the advice of many cooks who thought the original was on the bland side, I added some garlic and fresh ginger, and a few red-pepper flakes for spiciness. A hates regular frozen peas, so I used fresh sugar-snap peas instead—I love them, and I figured they were big enough for him to avoid if he wanted, though he ate them happily. I though the soup was sufficiently salty already, but A drizzled some soy sauce on his bowl before eating, and also commented that chili sauce, like Sriracha, might be good with it, too (he likes the salt and spice, that boy). Thinking wistfully of pho (there’s only one Vietnamese restaurant in Pasadena; its sign says, “The only Vietnamese restaurant in Pasadena!”), I sprinkled some cilantro on my serving and thought it was a great addition.

We used Trader Joe’s frozen pork gyoza, which were fabulous (I’ve got the chicken variety sitting in the freezer right now, so you can bet I’ll be making this recipe again soon, so I can compare them). The original recipe called for 3 cups of cabbage, which I gamely went along with even though I don’t like cabbage. It was fine, but there was a bit too much for me, so in the future I’ll only use 2 cups. I’d also love to try totsoi or baby bok choi leaves instead. I used a mixture of shiitake and cremini mushrooms—I got the shiitake at the farmers’ market and they were gorgeous, but at $4 for about a cup, I needed to supplement them with a cheaper mushroom. Both kinds worked fine.

In short: I highly recommend this recipe. It’s quick and easy (except for all the vegetable-chopping; I’m so bad at julienning carrots, but can’t bring myself to buy the bagged shredded kind; someone buy me a mandoline already!), it tastes great, and you can do just about anything you want to it without messing it up. But mainly, you get to eat dumplings for dinner.

Update, October 2015: You know what's an excellent replacement for peas here? Shelled edamame! 

1 (16-ounce) package frozen Asian dumplings. such as potstickers or gyoza (about 20 to 24)
5 cups low-sodium (or homemade) chicken broth
2 cups thinly sliced Napa cabbage or other greens
2 cups thinly sliced shiitake mushroom caps (or another brown mushroom, such as cremini)
1 cup shredded or matchstick (1/8-inch thick) carrots
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger, or to taste
½ cup frozen peas or fresh snow peas or sugar-snap peas
½ cup chopped scallions
1 teaspoon Asian sesame oil
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
red pepper flakes, soy sauce, chili sauce, and/or cilantro to taste

1. Cook dumplings in a 6- to-8-quart pot of boiling unsalted water, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until cooked through, 5 to 8 minutes. Remote pot from heat and keep dumplings warm in hot water. (Or you can follow the package directions to pan-fry and steam the dumplings, if you like.)

2. While dumplings cook, bring chicken broth to a boil in a 4- to 6-quart heavy pot. Add cabbage, mushrooms, carrots, ginger, and garlic and boil, uncovered, stirring occasionally, 3 minutes. Add peas and cook 2 minutes. Stir in scallions, sesame oil, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if desired, and boil until all vegetables are tender, about 1 minute.

3. Divide dumplings evenly among 4 soup bowls with a slotted spoon. Ladle soup over dumplings. Season with soy sauce, chili sauce, or cilantro if desired.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes

HERBED BREAD STUFFING WITH MUSHROOMS AND SAUSAGE

Ever sit there at Thanksgiving, digging your fork into a second (or third; who am I to judge?) helping of stuffing (or “dressing,” as some call it), and think “I wish I could just have stuffing for dinner whenever I wanted to!” Well, you can. Throw in some veggies and sausage, and suddenly it’s a main course. Call it a bread pudding or a strata if you will, but to me it’s stuffing. Of course, you can throw anything you want into stuffing, and November cooking magazines are rife with exotic variants containing everything from bacon to pineapple. But I like this recipe (which I’ve had for a couple of years, and can’t remember where it came from) because the flavors are still reminiscent of the traditional (to my family, at least) Thanksgiving sage stuffing, though it has a much more rustic texture. It’s comfort food without being bland or decadent. With a nice green salad on the side, it’s a cozy Sunday-night supper. And no need to roast a turkey!

¾ pound peasant-style white bread
½ pound sweet Italian sausage links
1 tablespoon butter
½ pound cremini mushrooms, quartered
olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
¾ cup chopped carrot
¾ cup chopped celery
¼ cup minced fresh parsley
1½ teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
1½ teaspoons minced fresh sage
¼ teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 egg
7 ounces chicken broth

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Trim crust from bread. Cut bread into 1½-inch cubes. Arrange bread cubes in a single layer on a baking sheet and bake 10 minutes or until lightly toasted.

3. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees.

4. Cook sausage in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat 10 minutes, browning on all sides. Remove from pan and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices.

5. Melt butter in same skillet over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms; sauté 4 minutes. Combine bread cubes, sausage, and mushrooms in a large bowl.

6. Heat same skillet over medium-high heat. Coat pan with a small amount of olive oil. Add onion, carrot, and celery; sauté 5 minutes or until lightly browned. Add parsley, thyme, sage, salt, and pepper; sauté 1 minute. Add to bread mixture.

7. Combine egg and broth, stirring with a whisk. Add to bread mixture; toss to coat. Spoon into a 9-inch-square baking dish coated with olive oil. Bake 45 minutes or until browned.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 1½ hours

CREAMED CHICKEN (OR CHICKEN POTPIE)

Did you eat creamed chicken growing up? Doesn’t it sound like one of those terrible 1950s cafeteria dishes? And certainly, it may not be fancy; it may be white and bland and a little gloppy. But I seriously love it, in that comfort-food way. It was one of my favorite meals as a kid; my mom would make it as minimally as possible, usually just chicken and mushrooms and white sauce. The adults would eat it over toast, but I abhorred soggy bread, so I just had my creamed chicken in a bowl, with buttered toast on the side (many pieces of buttered toast; I loved buttered toast).

I started making this slightly thinner, more colorful version in my early, post-college days of cooking for myself. As per the recipe (which may be from the Better Homes & Gardens Cookbook, but I’m not sure), I’d pour it into a baking dish, cut refrigerated Pillsbury biscuit dough into quarters, and arrange them atop the creamed chicken to approximate a poor woman’s potpie. It was nifty, and actually pretty tasty. But now I try to avoid dough that comes in tubes, and A claims he doesn’t like potpie (I think he’s wrong, but one step at a time), so I hadn’t made this recipe since I moved to California. I still crave creamed chicken, however, especially when I’m sick or the weather is cold. When I was in Minnesota for Christmas, my mom confessed a similar craving, and so we whipped some up for dinner one night, and it was so good, I’ve been wanting more ever since. Eventually I decided to just override A’s protests (ah, the perks of being the menu planner, grocery buyer, and chef!) and make creamed chicken whether he liked it or not. I thought about going whole hog and just making a potpie by draping frozen puff pastry over the top, but I wanted leftovers, and wet puff pastry makes terrible leftovers. Besides, if I just served the creamed chicken in bowls (with some bumpy rolls on the side), it was easier to persuade A that it’s really just a creamier version of chicken-noodle soup, sans noodles. And it is, basically. And it’s delicious. A agrees.

When I used to make this recipe when I lived alone, I’d just poach a few chicken breasts to get the necessary meat. Now, I’ll either use the same method I use for chicken-noodle soup (boil a raw cut-up chicken to make broth, then when it’s cooked and strained, pick the meat off the bones and save it), or I’ll just save some meat when I roast a chicken for a recipe (chickens are so big nowadays, neither A nor I can finish a breast in one sitting, so any leftover pieces of meat get stripped from the breast and saved in the freezer until I’ve accumulated enough).

You can gussy this up however you like. I used to use frozen veggies (the ol’ corn, peas, and carrots mixture); now I use fresh ones (carrots, green beans, celery). My mom uses canned mushrooms, though I prefer fresh. I’ve used both dried and fresh thyme; you could even try a different herb. You can add more broth to make it soupier, or more milk to make it creamier, or less liquid to make it thicker. You can add a pastry crust, use the nifty cut-up biscuit method, serve over toast or biscuits, or eat with a spoon. This is humble food; I won’t judge you.

10 ounces mixed vegetables, fresh or frozen (e.g., carrots, corn, peas, green beans, celery)
½ cup chopped onion
½ cup chopped mushrooms
¼ cup butter
⅓ cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon dried thyme or 1 teaspoon fresh
⅛ teaspoon pepper
2 cups chicken broth
¾ cup milk
3 cups cubed cooked chicken
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
If making potpie, 1 package refrigerated biscuits or 1 puff pastry crust

1. If vegetables are frozen, cook them according to package directions and drain. If they’re fresh, you’ll probably want to blanch them in boiling water for a few minutes until they’re tender. (Unless it’s celery—try sautéing that with the onion and mushrooms in the next step.)

2. In a saucepan, cook onion and mushrooms in butter over medium heat until tender. Stir in flour, salt, thyme, and pepper. Add broth and milk all at once. Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly. Stir in drained vegetables, chicken, and parsley; cook until bubbly.

3. If you’re making creamed chicken, you’re done. If you want potpie, preheat the oven to 400 degrees and pour the creamed chicken into a 2-quart baking dish.

4. If using refrigerated biscuits, cut them into quarters and arrange atop chicken mixture in baking dish. If using a pastry crust, place it atop the chicken. Bake about 15 minutes or until crust/biscuits are golden.

Serves: 6
Time: 40 minutes

CREAM OF TOMATO SOUP

Even though grilled-cheese sandwiches are one of my favorite foods and the very first thing I ever learned to cook (at the tender age of four or five), I don’t have any accompanying fond early memories of tomato soup. Campbell’s cream of tomato reminds me of college, when A would insist on having it with the grilled-cheese sandwiches that were still, at the tender age of twenty, one of the only things I knew how to cook. (Other college “cooking” memories: Kraft macaroni and cheese, frozen pizza, “Classic” flavor Suddenly Salad, and some sort of Lipton garlic pasta dish that came in a pouch and doesn’t seem to be in production anymore. Gack.) We’ve since graduated to the Trader Joe’s Organic Creamy Tomato Soup that comes in a carton and doesn’t taste like chemicals, and we’re happy with it. It would never have occurred to me to try to make my own tomato soup, especially since every tomato-based soup I’ve ever made has tasted pretty much like…tomato sauce. Fine and all, but something I want to toss some spaghetti into, not something I want to dip sandwiches into and slurp up with a spoon.

But then I read this post at the Smitten Kitchen, about the America's Test Kitchen recipe for tomato soup, and my mouth watered. It actually sounded as though it would taste like tomato soup—but better than any tomato soup I’d eaten before. So I made it, and it wasn’t too hard, and I sat down with my grilled-cheese sandwich and took a spoonful of soup and…tomato sauce, pretty much. No competition for the Trader Joe’s boxed stuff, and ten times the effort.

But it wasn’t unpleasant, and there was nothing else to eat for lunch the next day, so I brought it to work and—pow! I could taste every layer of flavor: the sweet caramel of the brown sugar, the roasty tomatoes, the oniony shallots, the savory chicken broth, the little splash of silky cream (it really doesn’t need much), the shot of brandy. This stuff was great! I ate the rest of the leftovers over the course of the week, put the recipe in my file and made it again a few months later. Again, we sat down to eat it and—disappointment. I couldn’t understand it; had I messed up the recipe somehow? Was I misremembering how good it had been? But again, I ate the leftovers the next day, and again, I was reminded how much the flavor had deepened in just 16 hours. I know many leftovers, particularly soup, do actually taste better after sitting around for a day or two, but I’ve never noticed such a dramatic change before. I fed skeptical A leftover soup (and more grilled cheese) for dinner a few days later, and he had to admit I was right. This is an awesome, awesome soup. But from now on, I’m making it a day before I plan to eat it. Which, yes, is a little inconvenient, and pretty much relegates this to weekend meals--but take that as a testimonial of how good this soup is, that I'm willing to be so inconvenienced by it.

If you like tomato soup at all, you owe it to yourself to make it from scratch. The recipe may look a little fussy, what with roasting the tomatoes and pushing them through a sieve and all, but it’s those details that elevate this above tomato sauce and make it tomato soup. (That, and the cream, of course.) I promise, it’s not too hard. And if you don’t like it right away when you taste it, try again the next day. It’s worth the wait.

Now, if only someone could develop a grilled-cheese sandwich that improves with age...

2 (28-ounce) cans whole tomatoes packed in juice
1½ tablespoons dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 large shallots, minced (about ½ cup)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 pinch ground allspice
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1¾ cups chicken stock, homemade or canned low-sodium
¼ to ½ cup heavy cream
1–2 tablespoons brandy or dry sherry
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees and line a rimmed baking sheet with foil.

2. Drain tomatoes, reserving juice in a bowl. Set a strainer over the bowl of juice; with fingers, carefully open whole tomatoes over strainer and push out seeds, allowing juices to fall through strainer into bowl. Reserve 3 cups juices total from bowl, discarding any extra. Spread seeded tomatoes in single layer on foil. Sprinkle evenly with brown sugar. Bake until all liquid has evaporated and tomatoes begin to color, about 30 minutes. Let tomatoes cool slightly, then peel them off foil; transfer to small bowl and set aside.

3. Heat butter over medium heat in large saucepan until foaming. Add shallots, tomato paste, and allspice. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until shallots are softened, 7 to 10 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly, until thoroughly combined, about 30 seconds. Gradually add chicken stock, whisking constantly to combine; stir in reserved tomato juice and roasted tomatoes. Cover, increase heat to medium, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, to blend flavors, about 10 minutes.

4. Using an immersion blender, food processor, or blender, puree mixture until smooth. Add cream to taste and warm over low heat until hot, about 3 minutes. Off heat, stir in brandy and season with salt and pepper.

Serves: 4
Time: 90 minutes

CHEDDAR-CHIVE QUICKBREAD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Serves: 8
Time: 1 hour

ZUCCHINI LASAGNA

I am way behind with recipe posting; I think I made this three weeks ago! So I’ll be brief. This is a good, basic vegetarian lasagna recipe, which is exactly what I was hungry for at the time. I found it in Vegetarian Suppers From Deborah Madison’s Kitchen, courtesy of the local library. Changes I made to the recipe: it originally called for 1 cup of finely chopped walnuts or pine nuts, added in thirds right after each ricotta layer, but I left that out because I thought the crunchiness would interrupt the smooshy texture I was longing for. Having forgotten to photocopy Deborah Madison’s recipe for tomato sauce (which was in another section of the book) at the same time I copied the lasagna recipe, I was forced to punt: I wanted something plain and non-chunky, so I just sautéed a couple of cloves of minced garlic and a pinch of red pepper flakes in about a tablespoon of olive oil, added two 14-ounce cans of Trader Joe’s plain organic tomato sauce, and seasoned with pepper, fresh oregano, and dried basil (I didn’t have fresh on hand). It was easy and tasted great. Use whatever tomato sauce you feel like.

In all, I was surprised by how quickly this dish came together—I made it on a weeknight, even—and I would certainly make it again, but it’s not the be-all and end-all of lasagna recipes for me. There was a significant amount of zucchini; I kept feeling like it was almost on the verge of being too much, but then it was nice to see and taste something green in the otherwise cheesy-noodliness of the finished product. I should have sautéed the zucchini a bit less long, though—I took the “until it glistens and is tender” directive a bit too seriously, forgetting that the zucchini would then be baked for another 40 minutes. And if 40 minutes is long enough to soften no-boil lasagna noodles, it’s certainly long enough to soften zucchini. They became a little too army-green for me. Next time I’ll stick to the “5 minutes” part of the directive instead.

Speaking of no-boil lasagna noodles, can you believe I’d never used them before? What a miracle of modern technology! Not only are they easy to use, but I also prefer the texture to “regular” lasagna—they retain a slight firmness that’s not only pleasingly al dente to eat, but also helps the casserole maintain its structural integrity, for easier slicing and serving. I now have half a box left and am itching to use them, so look out for more lasagna recipes in the future.

2½ cups tomato sauce
1 pound ricotta cheese
salt and freshly ground pepper
2 ½ pounds small zucchini
olive oil as needed
8 ounces no-boil lasagna noodles (12 noodles)
½ pound fresh mozzarella cheese, grated or shredded
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly oil a 9-by-12-inch baking pan.

2. If ricotta is densely textured, thin it with several tablespoons water and season with salt and pepper. If it’s milky and wet, set it in a fine strainer to drain (season with salt and pepper before using).

3. Cut the zucchini in half lengthwise. Cut each half into diagonal slices as thinly as possible. Heat the oil (I used 1–2 tablespoons) in a large nonstick skillet. Add the zucchini and cook over medium-high heat, turning frequently, until it glistens and is tender, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

4. Spread ½ cup tomato sauce in the bottom of the baking dish and set 3 noodles over it. Cover with a third of the ricotta and a third of the zucchini. Cover with ½ cup of the tomato sauce, a quarter of the mozzarella, and a sprinkling of Parmesan. Add the second layer of noodles and repeat twice more (in case you’re confused—I know I was—that’s ricotta, zucchini, tomato sauce, mozzarella, Parmesan, noodles, ricotta, zucchini, tomato sauce, mozzarella, Parmesan, noodles). Cover the final layer of pasta with the remaining tomato sauce, mozzarella, and Parmesan.

5. Cover the dish with foil and bake until bubbling hot, about 40 minutes. Let rest for several minutes before serving.

Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Serves: 6

GOULASH

Goulash! Goulash, goulash, goulash. Sure, the word might sound unappetizing, too close to “goo” or perhaps “ghoulish,” but the stuff itself is delicious, perhaps the perfect winter food. And I don’t even like beef that much, so this is truly a ringing endorsement.

Fellow beef-take-or-leavers: The pieces of meat are really tiny (that is, if you read the recipe correctly—I somehow misread it as “2-inch cubes” instead of “1/2-inch cubes” when I started cutting, then realized my error and had to go back and pare down the giant beef chunks after I’d browned them), and they cook for so long they get nice and tender. Everyone else: beefy goodness! Plus bacon, red peppers, and a rich, spiced, beautifully glossy reddish-brown broth. I was particularly fond of the flavor imparted by the caraway seeds. Oh, and let’s not forget that after talking your ear off about Spanish smoked paprika for the last month, I’m finally moving on to a new paprika—Hungarian sweet. It didn’t jump out and grab me the way the smoked stuff did, but it’s key to the warm flavor of this dish—and sure is more flavorful than ordinary red-powder-on-top-of-your-deviled eggs paprika.

The nitty-gritty: The recipe is from Gourmet, via The Smitten Kitchen. Some of the quantities are odd because I halved the recipe (it originally served 12). It was quite easy to make, especially since once you get everything mixed together, it just simmers for an hour while you talk on the phone or do yoga or watch TV. It’s sort of a soup, sort of a stew (depending on how much and what kind of liquid you add), and sort of a sauce you can ladle over egg noodles, as I did. (It turned out I had exactly 3 cups of frozen beef broth in my freezer, so I used all of that and didn’t add any water or beer, and I was very happy with the consistency…though beer might add a really nice flavor.) Served with a green salad, and with some homemade chocolate-chip oatmeal cookies for dessert, it was the perfect Sunday-night food: solid and comforting, but not heavy or decadent. Last week was cold and rainy, and this stuff braced my spirit and warmed my tummy.

3 slices bacon, diced
1½ pounds boneless chuck, trimmed and cut into ½-inch cubes
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 medium onions (about ¾ pound), chopped fine
2 garlic cloves, minced
1½ tablespoons sweet paprika
¾ teaspoon caraway seeds
5 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2½ cups beef broth
½ cup to 2½ cups water or beer (use water to make a stew, beer to make a soup)
½ teaspoon salt
1 red bell pepper, chopped fine

1. In a large, heavy kettle, cook bacon over medium heat, stirring, until crisp. Transfer with a slotted spoon to a paper-towel-lined plate and set aside.

2. In fat remaining in kettle, brown chuck in small batches over high heat, transferring the browned meat with a slotted spoon to a bowl.

3. Reduce heat to medium and add oil. Add onions and garlic and cook, stirring, until tender and golden. Stir in paprika, caraway seeds, and flour and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Whisk in vinegar and tomato paste and cook, whisking, for 1 minute. Stir in broth, water, salt, bell peppers, bacon, and chuck and bring to a boil, stirring. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, 60 to 75 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, and serve over egg noodles if desired.

Serves: 6
Time: 2 hours

CREAMY LEMON CHICKEN

Oh, crème fraiche, where have you been all my life?

This is one of those fabulously simple recipes that yields surprisingly sophisticated and amazingly delicious results. If you make it for other people, it will impress them, and possibly knock their socks off, and the entire time (in between bouts of licking your plate) you’ll be laughing behind your hand at how secretly easy it was to make. The recipe comes from Amanda Hesser and I found it at The Wednesday Chef; it seems to have made the rounds of the food blogs, and other writeups can be found here and here and here. The fact that it came so highly recommended overcame my fears that a recipe with so few ingredients would be bland, and the lemon chicken didn’t disappoint. The sauce was a perfect blend of rich, creamy creme-fraicheyness and lemony brightness. With smoked paprika roasted potatoes (the better to soak up more sauce with) and a big green salad, this chicken was a perfect weeknight supper, but I would have been equally comfortable serving it at a dinner party.

Trader Joe’s doesn’t carry whole chicken legs, so I bought a “whole cut-up chicken,” which, oddly, consisted of two breasts, three thighs, three drumsticks, and no wings. (That’s one freakish chicken.) I decided to save the enormous breasts for another day and just make the six leg pieces, or three servings. (This turned out to be a good decision, because when A ate the one leftover portion the next day, he reported that although it still tasted fine, the sauce had separated dramatically. So this is probably a dish best served immediately.) I used full amounts of all the other ingredients, though, because I figured a little extra sauce couldn’t hurt anything. (It didn’t.) The recipe was easy to make—season the chicken well with salt and pepper, brown it in the butter and olive oil, bake it until done, and then make a pan sauce out of the drippings and lemon juice and crème fraiche. Can you believe I’d never used crème fraiche before? For those not in the know, it’s cultured cream—sort of like sour cream, but less sour. I don't particularly like sour cream, mind you, but I love creme fraiche. It's sort of like Mexican crema, zippy like yogurt, vaguely reminiscent of Mascarpone in its uses, but better than all those things. Pretty much like tangy, creamy crack. I bought it at Trader Joe’s, but apparently you can make your own quite easily by mixing cream with a little buttermilk and letting it sit at room temperature for a day or so. I’m totally trying it sometime.

The only hitch in making the chicken was that it was the first time I’d used my Calphalon pan in the oven, and even though I knew, logically, that the metal handle would be hot when I returned the pan to the stovetop, I kept automatically, absentmindedly grabbing it with my bare hand while I was making the pan sauce. (A’s not usually one to laugh at my pain, but I do have to admit it must have been pretty funny for him to keep overhearing my exclamations in the other room: “@!$%#! I burned my hand on the pan handle, but I’m OK!” Then, two minutes later, “$%@$*! I’m OK!” again.) So keep those oven mitts on the entire time, kids. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle! (Sorry, GI Joe flashback there. It was on right before Scooby-Doo when I was a kid, so I’d always tune in just in time for the public service announcement portion at the end of the show.)

1½ tablespoons butter
1½ tablespoons olive oil
4 whole chicken legs (thighs attached)
coarse sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
½ cup crème fraiche

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

2. Heat a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat. After 3 minutes, add the butter and oil. Season the chicken generously with salt and very generously with pepper. Place the chicken, skin side down, in the skillet and brown well on both sides, turning once.

3. Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake for 15 minutes, or until the juices run clear when the chicken is pierced with a knife.

4. Return the skillet to the stovetop. Transfer the chicken to a platter and keep warm. Remove all but 1 tablespoon of drippings from the skillet. Over medium heat, add the lemon juice to the skillet and stir well. Simmer for 1 minute, then add the crème fraiche and stir until melted and bubbling. Pour the sauce over the chicken and sprinkle with lemon zest and additional pepper. Serve hot.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes

SMOKED PAPRIKA ROASTED POTATOES

I’m a bit behind with this posting thing, so you can look forward to lots of new delectable recipes this week. (Well, three, anyway. But super-delectable!)

You may have noticed that I’m all over the smoked paprika. I slathered it onto a roasted chicken, then I substituted it for normal paprika in Israeli Spice Chicken (an awesome decision, if I do say so myself; all smoky like barbecue), and now (er, a week and a half ago), I’ve dusted it onto roasted potatoes in this genius side-dish recipe from Hogwash. So good. So very easy. Why are you still reading this and not running to the nearest store to buy smoked paprika?

1½ pounds small red potatoes (I used a mixture of red, yellow, and purple, because I like to live on the edge)
1½ tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

2. Scrub the potatoes under cold running water and cut them in half (I ended up cutting mine in fourths because they weren’t the super-tiny kind). Arrange them in a single layer in a large ovenproof dish (I used a 9-by-12 Pyrex). Drizzle the olive oil over them, then season with the paprika, plus salt and pepper to taste. Toss with your hands to distribute the seasoning evenly.

3. Roast for 35 minutes, or until potatoes can easily be pierced with a fork.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 40 minutes

OATMEAL KNOTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

6. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

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

Yield: 24 rolls
Time: 2½ to 3 hours

DILL BREAD

I made bread! And I used the KitchenAid dough hook! And even though I flubbed the dough texture a little bit as a result, it tastes delicious!

I am really craving savory, herby, grainy breads lately, and I hope to spend the winter months merrily baking them. At the top of my list was this alluring dill bread from The Joy of Cooking via The Smitten Kitchen (where you will notice a heck of a lot more bread-baking expertise than you see here). I’ve seen many a dill bread recipe that contains sour cream, but this one appealed to me with its slightly healthier use of cottage cheese as a moistening agent, as well as honey instead of boring old sugar, and wheat germ for extra ethos.

Making the bread in the mixer saved me a lot of mess and elbow grease, but I should have added more flour to compensate for the fact that I wasn’t kneading the bread with floury hands on a floured surface. Since the KitchenAid method was less hands-on, I didn’t immediately notice that my dough was too shaggy and sticky until I started transferring it to the oiled bowl for the first rise. Granted, at that point I could have added more flour and kneaded it again, in the machine or by hand, but I decided I didn’t care enough. Better too moist than too dry, right? That’s me, Bookcook, slapdash and lazy since 1977!

Actually, the bread turned out perfectly fine for a nonperfectionist like me. The dough was so hard to work with that the loaf was rough and misshapen, but the exterior texture was perfect, crusty and golden and salty (thanks to the genius melted butter/salt wash). The interior was almost like a cake or a quick bread, maybe a bit too much on the gummy side where it should have been crumby, but I secretly enjoy slightly-underdone baked goods (whereas bread that’s too firm or dense or dry makes me want to spit it out after a bit of halfhearted chewing). Anyway, minor textural issues are nothing compared to the awesome flavor, savory with herb and onion and the perfect sweet/salty balance. I bet this stuff makes killer grilled-cheese sandwiches, and I intend to find out very soon, if I don’t eat it all plain first. This bread needs no butter or other adornment. A definite keeper.



1 package (2¼ teaspoons) active dry yeast
½ cup warm (105 to 115 degrees) water
3 cups flour
½ cup finely chopped red onion
3 tablespoons chopped fresh dill
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon toasted wheat germ
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup cottage cheese
1 large egg
1 tablespoon melted butter
½ teaspoon coarse salt

1. Combine yeast and water in a small bowl and let stand until yeast is dissolved, about 5 minutes.

2. Combine flour, onions, dill, honey, wheat germ, and 1 teaspoon salt in a large mixing bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer). Add the yeast mixture, the cottage cheese, and the egg. Mix by hand (or if using a mixer, on low speed) until the dough comes together, adding more flour or warm water if needed to achieve proper consistency. Knead for about 10 minutes by hand (or using the dough hook of the stand mixer on low to medium speed) until the dough is smooth and elastic. Transfer to an oiled bowl and turn dough over once to coat it with the oil. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel and let rise in a warm place (75 to 80 degrees) until doubled in volume, 1 to 1½ hours.

3. Grease a 9-by-5-inch (8-cup) loaf pan. Gently press the dough down, form it into a loaf, and place it seam side down in the pan. Cover with oiled plastic wrap or a kitchen towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.

4. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Brush the top of the loaf with melted butter, then sprinkle with the coarse salt. Bake until the crust is deep brown and the bottom of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped, about 35 to 40 minutes (internal temperature of the loaf should be about 200 degrees). Remove the loaf from the pan, place it on a rack, and let it cool completely.

Yield: 1 9-by-5-inch loaf
Time: 3 to 3½ hours

MINNESOTA BRIE AND APPLE SOUP

Sure, it doesn’t look like much, but that’s partly my fault for failing to garnish with apple slices and rosemary sprigs as directed, and not having any white pepper on hand instead of those big honking black specks you see. Anyway, who cares what it looks like when it tastes like apples and Brie?

Will you be surprised when I inform you that this soup is fabulous? Thank you, parents, for The St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook, and thank you, St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook, for including this recipe for one of the Dakota Jazz Club and Restaurant’s trademark dishes, and thank you, (former) executive chef Ken Goff, for creating it in the first place.

I had a few quibbles with the recipe—for one, it called for three cups of heavy cream, which is insane, considering we’re already using half a stick of butter and half a pound of Brie. The chef’s parenthetical notes grudgingly suggested I could substitute half and half or whole milk if I also used four potatoes instead of three. I went a step further down the ladder and used 1% milk, and it’s still the creamiest soup in Creamyland. I’m not even including the option for cream in my version of the recipe. Use milk and live longer, the better to enjoy more Brie and apple soup.

Also, the original recipe asked for just “4 small potatoes,” which is maddeningly unspecific. When I think “small potatoes,” I think teeny-tiny one-bite baby red potatoes, but I don’t think that’s what Goff meant. I used four smallish Russet potatoes, and that seemed about right. Just use enough potato slices to fit in the pan with the three cups of milk, but not so many that the milk doesn’t cover them. And speaking of that, Goff also became vague about cooking the potatoes in the milk, failing to give any guidance beyond “combine and cook slowly”—does that mean low heat? Medium? Can I blame this vagueness for the fact that the milk burned like hell onto the bottom of my (granted, not very high-quality or “thick-bottomed” pan)? Sadly, I think not. I hate any recipe that requires me to boil milk; I’m terrible at it, and burning inevitably ensues. It didn’t affect the taste of the soup at all, but it will affect my arm tonight when I try to scrape off the layers of char. Anyway, I’ve tried to clarify the directions below, but maybe you don’t want to listen to the woman who always burns the milk.

Finally, I’ve switched the steps around for maximum efficiency. The way the recipe was originally organized, I didn’t start cooking the potatoes and milk until after I’d added the chicken broth to the onions and apples. I figured: hey, 15 minutes for the onions and apples, 12 minutes for the potatoes and milk—that should time out pretty well! I had neglected to take into account the time it took for the refrigerator-cold milk to even heat up to a simmer, and thus the 12-minute clock didn’t even start running until well after the onions and apples were soft (I just turned the heat down to the lowest setting and kept cooking the onion/apple mixture until the potatoes were ready, and it was all fine, but it took a lot longer than it should have). So even though my directions sound complicated, making you jump back and forth between the two pots, it’s quicker this way, trust me.

Besides these minor frustrations, this wasn’t a hard recipe to make (as usual, the immersion blender helped immeasurably), and it turned out amazingly. Too rich and sweet to eat in great quantity, but so creamy and luxurious and with a great oniony, herby undertone. Unique and sophisticated, and thus perfect for serving to others so you can amaze them with your fancy-pantsness. But not too pretentious for just a simple Sunday night at home like ours, where we ate it with fresh dill bread (recipe to follow) and bitter green salads dressed with lemon vinaigrette (my favorite salad dressing ever: juice of one lemon, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, coarse salt, freshly ground pepper, shake well) while watching The Amazing Race.

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup yellow onion, chopped
¼ cup sliced leeks (white part only)
4 large tart apples (I used Granny Smith), peeled and quartered
2 cups chicken broth
1 sprig fresh rosemary, about 1½ inches long
¼ teaspoon dried thyme
1 small bay leaf
1½ teaspoons salt
3 cups milk
4 small Russet potatoes, peeled and sliced ⅛ inch thick
8 ounces Brie cheese, rind removed, cut into pieces
salt and ground pepper to taste

1. In a soup pot with a heavy bottom, melt the butter over medium-high heat until it foams. Add the onion, leek, and apple. Stir to coat them, then reduce heat to medium and cook until onions are softened, about 8 minutes.

2. While onions are cooking, combine the milk and potatoes in a separate heavy-bottomed saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, reduce to medium-low, and cook slowly, stirring frequently, until the potatoes are tender, about 12 minutes.

3. When onions are softened in the first pot, add the chicken broth, rosemary, thyme, bay leaf, and 1½ teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the vegetables are tender, about 15 minutes.

4. When potatoes are tender, add them to the pot with the onions and apples. Puree in batches in a blender (or use an immersion blender in the pot), adding pieces of Brie gradually while blending just long enough to incorporate. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serves: 6
Time: 1 hour

SMOKED PAPRIKA ROASTED CHICKEN

As soon as I acquired some smoked Spanish paprika, courtesy of my mother’s generosity at Penzey’s during my Minnesota visit, I immediately began searching my favorite food blogs for recipes in which to use it. This one, from Simply Recipes, won first place. It was easy to make, and man, was it good. Of course, I managed to eff it up slightly by forgetting the lemon juice in the spice rub and then sort of trying to sprinkle it on later, and maybe I didn’t get my chicken quite dry after washing it in Step 1, because I saw too much of the precious red spice goo dripping off after I applied it, but the end result was still delicious. My only sadness was that there was no way to get that delicious, sweet-smoky flavor inside the meat—it was all on the outside, which caused me to ingest rather more chicken skin than I usually like to. Still, I will definitely be making this again. And watch for more smoked paprika recipes in the weeks to come. I love that stuff!

2 tablespoons smoked paprika
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon softened butter
2 teaspoons garlic salt (or 1 teaspoon salt plus 1 teaspoon garlic powder)
½ teaspoon pepper
1 whole 4-to-5-pound roasting chicken

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Rinse the chicken with cold water and pat dry thoroughly with paper towels (if it’s wet, the seasoning won’t stick to it).

2. Mix together the paprika, honey, lemon juice, butter, garlic salt, and pepper. Spread over the entire surface of the chicken and place on a roasting rack or in a shallow baking pan.

3. Roast for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes. You may need to adjust the time depending on how large your chicken is; the chicken is done with the juices run clear (not pink) when a knife tip is inserted into the breast and thigh, and the temperature is about 165–170 degrees for the breast and 180–185 degrees for the thigh.

Serves: 4–6
Time: 1½ hours

MUSHROOM TART

Another simple, solid recipe from Everyday Food: Great Food Fast. Ironically, I was going to make this tart into a pizza, using Trader Joe’s pizza dough instead of puff pastry called for, both because it seemed healthier and because I’m interested in the mushroom/spinach/onion combination on a pizza. But Trader Joe’s sabotaged me by running out of pizza dough that day, so puff pastry it was. And while A argued that the butteriness of the puff pastry is a necessary foil for the earthy tastes of mushroom, spinach, and goat cheese, I found myself wishing for the more neutral taste of pizza dough, but perhaps that’s because the puff pastry got a bit overdone. Either my puff pastry sheet was too small (Trader Joe’s all-butter puff pastry comes in a two-sheet 16-ounce package), my baking sheet was too crappy, or the baking times in this recipe are a bit too long. Anyway, the darkened puff pastry tasted bitter to me, and combined with the fact that I don’t totally love goat cheese (I think there’s something musty about it) and the aforementioned earthiness of the mushrooms and spinach, it had me longing for a brighter note in the flavors, besides the sweetness of the onions—maybe garlic or parsley?—or a different kind of cheese—maybe Fontina? I’ll have to play around with it. But even with my reservations, I would not refuse to make this again as is (being more careful not to darken the pastry, though). It was easy to make, and those with more affection for goat cheese (like A, who was enthusiastic) might find it downright delectable.

Postscript, 2/21/08: Consider my reservations overcome. I made this again last night and (as the photo above shows) it came out beautifully. Using a double layer of baking sheets and keeping a careful eye on the puff pastry as it baked rather than relying on the recipe's time measurements, I was able to avoid overbrowning the crust, which fixed a lot of the bitterness problem. I sauteed a couple of cloves of minced garlic with the mushrooms, which added a nice flavor (I also wanted to sprinkle minced parsley over the finished tart, but I got too lazy--maybe next time). I'll admit that I experimented on a small corner of the tart, using grated Gouda instead of goat cheese, and preferred that. But even the normal goat-cheese parts tasted way better to me this time around. Also, can I just testify that I love this method of caramelizing onions? I always have trouble getting them suitably tender before they get too brown, and had never thought to cover them and let them steam. I'm going to do this all the time. Thanks, Everyday Food!


Flour
1 sheet frozen puff pastry (from a 17.3-ounce package)
1 medium onion, halved and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
20 ounces white or brown mushrooms, trimmed and thinly sliced
10 ounces fresh baby spinach
2 ounces soft goat cheese, crumbled

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Thaw puff pastry according to package instructions.

2. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan with a tight-fitting lid, toss the onion with 1 tablespoon of the oil and season with salt. Cover and cook over medium heat until the onion begins to brown, about 5 minutes. Stir. Continue cooking with the cover on for 15 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes. Set aside.

3. While onions are cooking, heat the remaining tablespoon of oil in a large saucepan with a tight-fitting lid over medium heat. Add the mushrooms; cover and cook until tender and all liquid has evaporated, about 10 minutes. Fold in the spinach; season with salt and pepper. Cover and cook until wilted, about 5 minutes more. Drain off any liquid.

4. When puff pastry has thawed, roll the dough out on a floured surface into a 16-by-10-inch rectangle. Place the pastry on a baking sheet. With a sharp knife, lightly score the dough to form a 1-inch border. Using a fork, prick the dough inside the border every ½ inch. Bake until golden, rotating the pan once, about 15 minutes.

5. Top the dough with the mushroom-spinach mixture. Scatter the onions and goat cheese on top. Bake until the cheese is lightly browned, about 15 minutes.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes

HAPPY NEW COOKING YEAR!

Just one of the many trays of homemade Christmas cookies I was fortunate enough to encounter during the holidays.

I hope you all had a lovely holiday. I enjoyed my visit to Minnesota, where I dined happily upon my parents' incomparable homemade pizza, plus lefse, about a million cookies, Davanni's deep-dish pizza with mushrooms and pink sauce (an off-menu treat consisting of the usual red sauce mixed with the garlicky sauce used on their white pizzas), sushi at Saji-Ya, salad at Cafe Latte, kothe (pan-fried pork momos) at Everest on Grand, Honeycrisp apples (which don't seem to have made it to California), and many perfect mugs of Tea Source tea. I did a lot of cooking before the holidays (cookies, jam, etc.) that never got written down here, but I hope to do a better job at documenting things in the new year. In the meantime, let's take a look back at 2007....

BOOKCOOK’S FIVE BEST RECIPES OF 2007:

1. Mac and cheese
2. Roasted kale
3. Pizza sausage
4. Shrimp boil
5. No-knead bread

BOOKCOOK’S FIVE FAVORITE FOOD/COOKING-RELATED THINGS OF 2007:

1. My KitchenAid stand mixer
2. My immersion blender
3. Experimenting with new produce (including chard, kale, cabbage, tatsoi, broccoli rabe, arugula, parsnips, beets, and delicata and kabocha and red kuri squash) thanks to my CSA
4. Photographing my food
5. A wealth of new favorite food sites (see sidebar)

BOOKCOOK’S FIVE FAVORITE FOOD BOOKS READ IN 2007:

1. The Kitchen Diaries, by Nigel Slater
2. The United States of Arugula: How We Became a Gourmet Nation, by David Kamp
3. The Amateur Gourmet: How to Shop, Chop, and Table-Hop Like a Pro, by Adam D. Roberts
4. Alone in the Kitchen With an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone, edited by Jenni Ferrari-Adler
5. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver

LOOKING AHEAD TO 2008:
I received a passel of food-related Christmas gifts I’m really excited about. My new tea kettle and single-cup loose-tea infuser from my parents, plus the scads of Tea Source tea I picked up during my visit to Minnesota (Moon Over Madagascar, which is richly vanilla-flavored, and Winter Spice, which is…well, what it sounds like, are my current faves) ensure that I’ll be happily sipping tea all year long. A’s dad gave me a brand-new block of nice sharp knives that’ll make chopping and mincing a joy. A’s aunt gave me a silicone baking mat for rolling out dough, so I won’t have to slip and slide all over the counter on the cutting board anymore (I have a tiled counter, which is too uneven to roll out dough directly on it). A’s mom supplied a nifty sliding-top measuring spoon that allows me to measure odd quantities, like 1¼ teaspoons, all in one shot. I received a renewal of my Cooking Light subscription, plus the St. Paul Farmers’ Market Cookbook and several others, ensuring me a good supply of new recipes to try. I won a waffle iron, of all things, at my office holiday party, and I fired it up last weekend—chose a sugarless, “light and crispy” waffle recipes from the booklet that came with the waffle iron, and experienced the joyous one-two punch of employing my KitchenAid to beat egg whites until stiff while I mixed up the rest of the batter, then I folded the two together and the waffle iron worked its magic. I spread the waffles with the apple butter I made (and canned all by myself) for Christmas (recipe to be posted eventually), and it was heaven. I also received some food items: dark Mexican honey from one aunt and uncle, Harry and David pepper and onion relish from another, and French gray sea salt and Spanish smoked paprika that mom let me pick out during a visit to Penzeys in St. Paul (great store, but sadly, only one location in the entire great state of California). If you haven’t tried smoked paprika yet, it smells like really great barbecued potato chips and tastes even better. I tried some on a roast chicken last weekend (recipe forthcoming) and had to refrain from licking the chicken skin afterward.

I’m not going to make strict resolutions for the new year, but here are some general food-related wishes and hopes for 2008:

About Bookcook:

1. I’d like to remember to post more often, with more photos.
2. I want to recategorize the recipes on this site (this is already in progress, as you can see from the shambles of the sidebar) and make sure they’re all up to date and error-free.
3. I’d like to see some comments from my readers, ahem ahem! Have you tried a recipe and loved or hated it? Do you have questions? Recipes to recommend? Just want to say hi? Let me know you’re out there every once in a while, hmm?

About cooking:

1. I have yet to try the dough hook on the KitchenAid. More bread-baking, please!
2. Possible tools to try/acquire: KitchenAid pasta-making attachment (I’m dying to make ravioli), kitchen scale (I like the cute Escali Primo, which has a small footprint and comes in a rainbow of colors), enameled cast-iron Dutch oven, new dishes (I’m coveting my friends’ Fiestaware collections), a food processor, a mandoline and a mortar and pestle (P just acquired both of these and I’m keeping an eye on her to see how she likes them).
3. Just keep on trying new recipes and new ingredients (things I’d like to try making include pies and tarts, gnocchi, flour tortillas, pickles, more jams, and more muffins and cakes and bread and cookies).

About shopping and eating in general:

1. Try more new restaurants. I'm definitely in a rut there.
2. Recycle more of my trash, always use reusable bags when shopping (I’ve gotten into the habit of bringing them to the farmers’ market and my weekly grocery shopping, but I often forget on shorter or more spontaneous errands), and waste less food.
3. Keep on striving to eat homemade, fresh, healthy, local, and organic as much as possible.