This could be the best thing. Ever.

I made something tonight, something to eat, in anticipation of the arrival of a dear friend tomorrow evening.

It's not done just yet, but I think it's going to be good.  Damn good.

Slow Cooker Beef Mole with Slaw

4 lbs beef (I used a rump roast because that's what I had to get rid of and the whole reason for doing this in the first place, but better meat might be a good idea.  A lot of people use flank steak.)
1 tbsp or more beef flavored Better Than Bouillon
1 1/2 cups water

If your meat is fresh, it might be a good idea to sear it first.  Mine was old and frozen so I just rinsed it off and put it in the slow cooker with the water and bouillon.  Cook on low while you go do something else for a couple hours.  Then make the sauce.

1 tbsp olive oil
1 red onion, diced, about 2 cups
6 fat garlic cloves, minced, about 1/4 cup
1 jalapeno, finely chopped (seeds and membranes included, or not)
1/4 tsp salt
2 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp chili powder
4 tbsp cocoa powder
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/4 cup raisins
2 14 oz. cans fire-roasted diced tomatoes with green chiles
3/4 cup beef stock (from the slow cooker) 
1 tbsp agave syrup

In a good-sized saucepan, heat the oil, add the onions and cook for a few minutes before adding the salt and throwing in the garlic and jalapeno.  Get your herbs and spices together.  Add them all to the saucepan, along with the cocoa, tomatoes, almonds, raisins, stock and agave.  Stir and let simmer for a few minutes, then transfer to a blender or food processor and puree, before adding to the crockpot and licking every drip and spoon.  Cook on low for a few hours, or go to bed because it's way past bedtime and you're super tired.  But before you do that, do all the dishes and make the slaw.

1/2 green bell pepper, in one-inch slices
1/2 red bell pepper, in one-inch slices
2 1/2 cups sliced green cabbage
2 1/2 cups sliced red cabbage
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup freshly squeeze orange juice (or similar orange-colored citrus fruit)
shake of sea salt
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Mix all together, save the cilantro, and put in the fridge.  Chop and add the cilantro just before serving so it's nice and fresh.

Serve up your mole on a warm corn tortilla, topped with a bit of grated monterey jack cheese and a scoop of slaw, possibly with a dollop of guacamole for good measure.

That's the plan, anyway.  We'll see how it all turns out.

Eat It: This F-ing Goodness is Good For You

Olive oil in a good-sized skillet.  Onion, salt, sweet yellow/red and green pepper, garlic, in the typical amounts (like, however much you think you want).  Squash, about six cups, baked (butternut, good; lakota, better; chioggia, primo).  One cup good feta cheese, one half cup fatty chicken stock (since it happened to be right there) plus a quarter cup or so of water (from the feta), depending on how moist your squash is, or you want it to be.  Should be soft enough to stir without strain.  Salt, fresh ground pepper.  Combine all, sprinkle with cayenne or paprika, cover and bake at four hundred degrees until "puffed" or cooked through.  Remove lid, top with one cup sunflower seeds, salt as necessary, and bake at the top of the oven until seeds are slightly browned.  Let cool to eating temp and........Mm, tasty!!  


(Credit where due: this is not entirely my own, but a damn good variation on a recipe from Molly Katzen's Moosewood cookbook.   Also, this makes a pretty big batch.  Could cut it in half or less, and still have plenty.)

A little bit of feelgood goes a long way...

Not knowing what I where I was headed when I started this, I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it all came together (40 min?) and how very nicely it turned out.  Here we have a low-fat, high protein, good-for-you-in-practically-every-way kind of dish, a simple dinner and/or lunch that will make your life easier, and possibly better.  Try it, you’ll like it!
 
Um Yum Salad
 
Boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Lime, Shoyu, Sugar, Sriracha sauce
Sesame oil, Peanut oil
Salt, Pepper, Garlic, Ginger
Quinoa
Red cabbage, Celery, Carrot, Onion
Water chestnuts
Sesame seeds
Cilantro

Pre-heat the oven to the standard 375 or so.  Into a measuring cup or small bowl, juice half a lime.  A nifty hinged citrus press which is a perfect match to your bright green tiny casserole cum garlic keeper (thank you very much… Love it!) will do the job quite nicely, or just squeeze it through your hand or whatever method you normally use.  Being fortunate enough to live within walking distance of all kinds of organic produce, and having acquired a taste for the real thing, and also rarely if ever having used an entire bottle before it went ‘sour’, I no longer opt for citrus juice concentrates, but do so if you must… Add 2 tbsp of shoyu, a tsp or two of agave syrup or sugar, and a good squirt of sriracha sauce.  Stir, taste, set aside.

Pour a bit of sesame oil in a mid-sized oven-safe skillet, along with a good douse of peanut (or canola) oil.  Heat the oil and then throw in two chicken breasts, and sear them over high heat, with a good turn of salt and white pepper (or black) on each side.  A note of caution here: I would strongly recommend NOT using your new “highly heat resistant” plastic spatula to flip them (with all due respect and gratitude to The Giver, this is one reason why I eschew plastic cookware… user error, perhaps, but still.  High heat does seem to imply cooking.).  Once the breasts have browned nicely, stir a generous tbsp each of minced ginger and garlic into the oil, and cook for a minute or two, just enough to bring out some flavor.  Add the sauce, cover, and put in the oven to finish cooking.  (Or you could reduce the heat to low and leave on the stovetop, just be careful not to burn.)
 
Rinse a cup of quinoa and put it in a small saucepan with 2 cups of water.  Bring this to a low boil.  Meanwhile, slice up the following into bite-size pieces of your desired dimensions and place in large mixing bowl: 2 cups red cabbage, 1 stalk celery, 1 cup carrot (been really loving those Nantes from the co-op this winter, so light and sweet), the better part of a can of water chestnuts (or just eat a few and put all the rest in there), a tbsp or two of finely sliced red onion (scallions would probably be a better choice if you have some but, you know, use whatever you have), and a tbsp of skillet-toasted sesame seeds (I used black, for color and texture, but the regular unhulled variety would be just fine.  Not sure I’ve ever toasted the hulled whitish kind, but I suppose you can…?).  Stir this up.
 
Check the quinoa; it should be about done by now.  So should the chicken.  Mine wasn’t completely thawed to begin with, but it was easily done in the time it took to chop veg, and quite juicy.  I didn’t have a plan for the liquid, so decided to dice the chicken in its pan and let the chunks soak in the sauce for a couple minutes while the quinoa finished cooking;  it was a good idea, so do that.  When the quinoa’s done, dump it onto the veg, add the chicken and sauce and stir it all together.  The heat will par-cook the vegetables ever-so-slightly—just right.  Let that sit while you cut a good handful of fresh cilantro, 2 or 3 tbsp—some stems are welcome and thinly sliced is nice, no need to chop it up too much (incidentally, a kick-ass Kyocera ceramic knife, also a lovely gift, will take care of that with ease).  Toss, taste, adjust seasonings (shoyu, lime?) as necessary (not).  Serve at room temp. 

Soup du semaine

One month ago today my mom left for me a small jar of soup, which became my lunch the following day and which I found myself craving again not too long ago, so I decided to take a shot at recreating it.  I don't know why I didn't just call her and get the recipe, but here is (approximately) what I came up with, based on her concoction and some similar recipes I found online.  It turned out pretty darn tasty.  It's also full of stuff that's good for your guts, your immune system, your circulation, your kidneys and liver, and your general sense of well-being.  It's a warming, stimulating and cleansing soup, good for these waning (and sometimes sluggish) days of winter. It's hearty but still light, slightly sweet with a twinge of acid and a bit of bite... Even if you're not a big fan of cabbage, or tofu, or anything else, you'll probably like this.

Hot and Sour Cabbage Soup

1 tsp toasted sesame oil
1 tsp canola or peanut oil
2 c onions, diced or sliced
1 thumb-sized piece of ginger, in tiny matchsticks
1 serrano chile, sliced (seeds and all.  any hot pepper will do and 2-3 of them would be better.)
2 c shiitake mushrooms, de-stemmed and sliced (cremini or white are an acceptable if less nourishing and yummy substitute. also do save stems for stock, or stir-fry sauce.)
2 med carrots, sliced, or halved and sliced, or diced, or whatever
1/2 med head of green cabbage, sliced to 1/4" and chopped in 1-2" lengths
1 15 oz. can diced or crushed tomatoes
3-4 c chicken or vegetable stock 
2-3 c water, or as desired
1/4 tsp cayenne, or to taste
3 tbsp shoyu
1/4 c rice vinegar
1 tbsp fish sauce (optional)
10 oz. super firm tofu, cubed (I like Wildwood sprouted)
freshly ground black pepper, a lot of it (maybe 1/4 tsp?)
2 tbsp black sesame seeds (they're pretty and they're good for you. go to the Asian grocery; it's fun!)
1/4 lime, squeezed (2 tsp?)
sriracha sauce, to taste (or add more chiles/cayenne, above)

Heat the oil in a good-sized soup pot.  Saute the onions until they begin to golden, then toss in the ginger, chile and mushrooms and saute for a minute or two more.  Add the carrots and cabbage and give everything a good stir before adding the tomatoes, stock, cayenne, shoyu, and vinegar (and fish sauce, if used...I think I added some, not sure...).  Add the tofu and water, to the desired consistency, followed by a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper.  Stir well, cover and bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for another fifteen minutes or so, until the carrots and cabbage are tender.  Throw in a handful or two of black sesame seeds and finish with a squeeze of fresh lime juice.

For the Perennially Hungry

I got home toward late tonight, after working until the eleventh hour to try to pick up some slack, with the aim of making soup for dinner.  I came up with this soup du jour, a rather unassuming one-pot meal which seems to have a sort of snowball effect.  (It seems to finally be rounding off now, after about six bowls.) If you find yourself feeling the need for a little mid-winter pick-me-up, this might be just the thing:


Wild rice soup with mushrooms, squash and nettles 

1+ tbsp butter
1 c yellow onion, diced
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
2 stalks celery, sliced
1/2 lb crimini mushrooms, sliced, about 4 c
1 small butternut or other winter squash, cubed, about 5 c
1 c wild rice, rinsed well
1 1/2 quarts water, or so
1 tbsp Better Than Bouillon mushroom soup base (or sub veg or chicken bouillon or broth)
1/4 tsp sea salt
black pepper
1/4 tsp dried thyme
1/8 tsp ground sage
1 bay leaf
3 tbsp sour cream
1 tbsp chevre (blue fuzzy parts removed)
2/3 c or one healthy handful of dried nettles, slightly crushed (if you don't have nettles I wouldn't sub other greens here; dried nettles have a magical way of not exerting a heavy "green" flavor, while still contributing all their leafy mineral-rich goodness.)

Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed soup pot, and throw in the onions, followed by the garlic. Saute over med heat for a minute or two and salt generously.  Add the celery, saute for a couple minutes more and then add the mushrooms, a few hearty shakes of salt and freshly ground pepper.  Cook until the mushrooms have just begun to release their juices, then add the thyme and sage, along with the the water, bay leaf and bouillon.  Add the rice, stir well, cover and bring to a boil.  Turn down the heat and let simmer for 15 min, or until rice is half-cooked (time will vary depending on where your rice came from...'round here the White Earth variety is fine-grained and tender-hulled, so cooks quickly).  Add the squash and cook for another 5-10 min, until tender.  Stir in the sour cream and chevre, along with the nettles, cover and let stand for 5 min before serving. 

 

Damn Tasty Bread Pudding (for one)

1 large and extremely stale piece of decent bread (not too dense), cubed, about 1 c
1 very small onion, diced (about 1/8 c)
1 small clove garlic, minced
3 cremini mushrooms, (halved and) sliced
3 good oily salty tasty black olives (kalamata, nicoise or the like), minced
pinch of rosemary
1-2 tbsp mild dry goat cheese (or maybe Swiss or dry white cheddar?), in tiny cubes
1 egg
2 tbsp milk (soy or cow)
salt and pepper
butter

Put the bread chunks in a small bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg and a couple tbsp milk, and dump it over the bread. In a small skillet, saute the onions in a bit of butter, with some salt, over heat high enough to brown them slightly. Add the mushrooms, garlic and rosemary, bit more salt and pepper, and saute until the mushrooms have cooked through. Add mushroom mixture, olives and cheese to bread bowl and mix it up a bit, then pack it into small buttered baking dish. If you don't have an adorable pint-size glass bread pan, use whatever else you've got, glass or metal. Bake at 350, covered, until the pudding puffs up and begins to turn golden, then uncover and bake until nicely browned. Turn onto a plate and serve with fork.

(Theoretically this recipe could be doubled, quadrupled, octupled, what have you... )

munching on the mundane

It wasn't quite early when I got up this morning, although it felt so after a shallow rest. I managed to get clean and out the door in 20 minutes, to meet a friend with whom I shared a pleasant and hearty breakfast at the Colossal Cafe. I went for the special, biscuits and gravy--is it the idea that compels me, or is it the gravy?--and found them to be almost exactly everything that the dish should be (anywhere other than the Seward Cafe, of course, where the B&G Deluxe is beyond compare)...biscuits light and fluffy, gravy made with what seemed to be chipped beef and just a touch of sour cream with a sprinkling of herbs, thick but still smooth, rich but not fatty, even light almost, served up in a nice bowl. We sat a table just inside the door of the tiny place--the seating area is probably only 8x15' or so--and although we had to suffer an occasional rush of cold air, we managed somehow not to be unseated for a good hour and a half or more. With a well-brewed cup of coffee (I like it strong, but I've been disappointed lately by "overbrewed" cups at places where one might expect better) and some good conversation, it was a nice way to start the day. Not the cheapest around but I left feeling satisfied, with enough energy to see me through what turned out to be a fairly long day, out and about, picking up this and that in anticipation of Paris.

This trip is shaping up to be an expensive affair already, which has me feeling a bit at odds with my prudence. Flying off to Paris, of all places... My hope had been to get away for some time alone in canyon country after I got through the house-buying act, or to undertake an ascetic practice of self- and home-improvements this winter, not run abroad to a cosmopolitan city and spend my life savings on fleeting pleasures. The money I've spent on my plane ticket might have equipped my kitchen beyond my modest dreams, and what I'll spend on food there, I can hardly imagine...

I stopped by the co-op on my way home today, to pick up a few essentials, and it occurred to me that many of the things I regard as such are not really typical American fare. Organic brown basmati rice, for example, or shiitake mushrooms. Locally crafted goat-cheese and crusty artisan breads. I suppose there are plenty of Americans who travel to France and have never tasted a French cheese, or (is it possible?) stood in the presence of a Monet, or heard of Edith Piaf. Some of those people might be content to go to TGI Fridays Paris (just down the street from Hotel Touriste) but I am a discriminating eater even in this modest metropolis where above-average fare of all origins abounds, and I'll be damned if I'm going to show up in gay Paris, home of haute cuisine, neighbor to my ancestral roots in Alsace-Lorraine, and drop in just any old place for a bite. No no.

I'm not after a "fine" dining experience. I don't intend to spend more on a meal than I would on a pair of shoes (which may not be saying all that much...could I be a closet fashionista?); nor am I the sort who would eschew (ha ha) a humble meal at any random hole-in-the-wall, but I have to admit that my standards for what I put into my mouth, crush between my teeth, take down, digest, absorb and become are fairly high. There's a reason I don't eat foods that are doused in poison, or killed in a filthy manner, or crafted without any care whatsoever, for consumption by the masses (or massive). It just doesn't make any sense to me to eat, unless it's going to do something Good for You. To do otherwise, to me, is not only unhealthy and unwise but is potentially sickening and--if I might go so far--Life Changing (in that food actually gives people life...). Like having sex with a prostitute, or eating half a bag of Doritos in one sitting, not that I've done either of those things.

(Okay, so sure, it's not always going to be good. Then it should at least be interesting. Like that apple stand we stopped at on the way home, where the slightly crazed owner shared some feelings about his life's professions: one part apple peddler--with his brother, who had this stupid idea of shellacking the pumpkins, "as if there's not enough to do around here"--and one part director, of the funeral home next door--between that and the polka music on rotation, all day, every day, "truly, there are days when I wish for death, hahaha...". We bought a few apples and so-so pastries. Worthwhile, is maybe what I'm getting at...)

Last stop for the afternoon was United Noodles, to stock the pantry for curry, noodle soup, fried rice, pad thai... I was squatting at the fish sauce, trying to remember if it's the one with two crabs or three, when from behind I heard my name, and turned to see my sister. Had I gotten her message? No. About meeting her there? What? She and the rest of the book club--mostly extended family members--were on a field trip. Serendipity, or just chance? We browsed for food items of the Asian Persuasion and then went for dinner at the Vietnamese gem Quang, over on "Eat Street". My bowl of soup was at least a quart and a half full of about a half pound of broccoli, another of tofu, and as much again of egg noodles, with other veg; I don't think I could have made the same, for what I paid for it, and even though I ate my fill, what's left is still more than a meal for me. Dessert was my sister's suggestion but my choice, and it turned out to be a strange one: gooey rice dumplings with a salty bean paste inside, resting in a bowlful of coconut-ginger syrup and sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds. Fascinating, if not delicious (also probably the main factor contributing to the sense of sad and empty loneliness that came over me upon returning home, to no one, with only the cheap sound of my new monitor-cum-television to keep me company...Playoffs, whoopdee doo!...but you see I mean about Life Changing...?).

Inspired by two bags of groceries and thoughts of the future as well as hopes of dispelling laziness, I decided tonight to take down the plastic sheets that have been covering the kitchen, keeping me out of my cupboards and from enjoying a clean, tidy space in which to prepare food. It still feels a bit dirty, not mine, not quite right somehow, like something more is missing than the pots and pans, but it does look better. My intent had been to make a red curry this evening, to eat for the week, but it's been a longish day (for a Sunday) and, as anxious as I am to plan my culinary stumble through Paris, I think I'm going to have leftovers for lunch tomorrow and let those restaurant guides rest for tonight. Maybe there's something good on TV...

Somebody Loves a Cabbage

Among my unprized and almost forgotten but dearly adored possessions is a rather rare copy of an original manuscript--a libretto, actually--for the remarkable though almost completely unknown (and never performed) operetta entitled "Nobody Loves a Cabbage". This gem, complete with hand-colored illustrations, is a first edition, published on a dot-matrix printer and bound by a pressboard cover, and is, in all probability, now one of only two or three in existence. It's truly a rarity of the finest sort.

It's been quite a long time since I've laid eyes on it, but as I recall, the refrain of the title song goes a little something like this:

Nobody (--Nobody!),
Nobody (--Nobody!),
Nobody loves a caa-ba-a-age...

Nobody (--Nobody!),
Nobody (--Nobody!),
Nobody loves a caa-ba-a-age...

Sheer genius.

In homage to this great work, and in an effort both to revive my lagging recipe project and to nourish your wintery souls, I offer up this simple and satisfying soup.

1 tbsp canola oil
1 onion, chopped, or more
3 tbsp sesame seeds
7 cups shredded cabbage (about 1/2 large head)
2 tomatoes, chopped (or one 14 oz. can diced tomatoes)
2 slices whole wheat or rye bread, diced, or more (or other dark bread)
6 cups vegetable stock (good bouillon will work just fine)
Salt, to taste
3 tbsp Tamari, Shoyu or (if you must) plain old soy sauce, or to taste
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp caraway seeds (optional)

Heat the canola oil over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed stockpot and saute the onion until it begins to soften, about 3 minutes. Add the sesame seeds and cabbage and continue to cook, stirring, over low heat, for about 10 minutes, until the cabbage has cooked down. Stir in the remaining ingredients, bring to a boil, reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 45 minutes. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve hot.

This one comes from The Vegetarian Feast and is reprinted without permission, which I will deal with when the copyright police find me. Although the caraway is regarded by the author as optional, I think the soup would lack something significant without it. A nice rye or pumpernickel (or French Meadow Hemp, as I found out) is probably the way to go with the bread. Watch the salt--it might be a good idea to use unsalted vegetable stock and/or tomatoes, because the soy sauce will add a lot of saltiness, but is key to the richness of the broth, so don't skimp there. Quite tasty with ham and Swiss.

(With thanks to Mom, both for the cookbook--which I am glad to give another look, after all these years--and for introducing its contents, so deliciously. Gratitude, also, to the authors of the aforementioned work of art. You know who you are.)

(Mom's) Vegetable Soup

My Mom has a way with food. I'm not talking about the way everyone's Mom does, I mean she really has a feeling for food, understands seasoning, knows how to feed people... This is one of her recipes which, although distantly related to familiar dishes of the same name, is (imho) unrivaled in the one-pot-meal-in-a-bowl-comfort-plus-nutrition cooking category. Mom makes it with a beef soup bone, but I do it without (it's easier, and you won't miss the meat). My version varies from one pot to the next, but here's the basic idea.

This should go without saying, but be sure to use the best vegetables available, because their quality is what makes this soup. I find it's best to prep all the veggies first and have them at the ready before you start cooking. Amounts here are approximated based on my last batch, which was at least twice this size, but all can and should be adjusted to your preferences, of course.

1-2 tbsp canola oil
2 c onions, diced
1 c celery, diced
1 1/2 c carrot, sliced about 1/4", in quarters, halves or small rounds
3-6 garlic cloves, minced (about 1 tbsp)
2 quarts water, more or less
1 c pearled (or hulled) barley
vegetable boullion (optional)
2 c rutabaga, diced 1/2"
2 c potato, diced 1/2"
3 c cabbage, chopped in 1" chunks
1/2 c turnip, diced 3/8"
1 28 oz. can tomatoes, diced or chopped, or more to taste
1 c corn, fresh or frozen
1 c green beans, fresh or frozen, cut in 1" pieces1 tbsp fresh or 1/2 tsp dried parsely
1 large bay leaf (or 2 small)
salt and pepper

I usually start by pouring the oil into a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot (min 8 quarts). Then I chop up the onion, celery (you can include some of the leaves if you like but don't overdo it...fresh local celery, in particular, can be very pungent) and carrots, and toss them in the pot while I chop up the rest. Sure, you're supposed to heat the oil before you add the vegetables, but they do okay without preheating and it's nice to have them out of the way while you fill up the rest of your counter space with all the other veggies.

Once everything's chopped up, turn the heat up to med-high and saute the onion/celery/carrot (aka mirepoix) for a minute or two, then add the garlic and cook for a couple minutes more. When the onions are soft and the carrots are not yet, add the water, bay leaf and bouillon (I might use 1 square of Rapunzel Vegan w/Salt & Herbs. Or not.), with maybe 1/2 tsp of salt and a few cranks of freshly ground or some good shakes of plain old black pepper. Bring to a boil. Add the barley and simmer until it's just soft, then add the veggies, in the following order, leaving a couple minutes in between: rutabaga, potato, cabbage, turnip.

Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the tomatoes (I add these close to last because I've been told their acids can inhibit the ability of grains and some vegetables to absorb water. I can't corroborate this with any information from the web but I can attest to it, from experience. Try adding dry rice to a tomato base and see how long it takes to cook.) Add more water and/or tomatoes as necessary to achieve desired consistency (best nice and thick) or flavor (don't overpower those mellow roots).

Let everything stew for a while. Before the rutabagas and potatoes are fully tender add the beans, followed shortly after by the corn. Stir in the parsley, season with salt and pepper to taste, and let stand for a short time before serving.

I think that's it. See how it goes, let me know.

Handle With Care

This evening I was craving Ethiopian food, after a recent dip in the Blue Nile with family in town from WI (thanks, btw, for a nice night), so I set about making a big pot of vegetables cooked in butter and spices: onion, ginger, garlic, cabbage, potato, carrot, green beans, slivered almonds and--why not?--a couple peppers from the garden. I picked out one mild Hungarian Wax, and then a hot one--a pretty little bright orange thing, all wrinkled and pointy and light as a feather, like a strange Chinese lantern. The Fatali.

I'd noticed this plant from the get-go, way back at the Friends School Sale, because of its unusual leaves and growth habit. Unlike other peppers, which all look more or less the same by comparison, this one has wide, almost heart-shaped leaves of a slightly soft and puckered texture which circle the stem in a horizontal way, creating almost a rosette around the growth points. The plants are short and bushy (or at least ours were), a lighter and more vibrant green than the standard dark & shiny of most pepper plants. Quite pretty.

Taking a cue from its name, I thought it might be prudent to sample the Fatali first, so I cut off the tip and had a taste. Not bad, a little hot but nothing I couldn't handle. I was expecting a bit more, with a name like that... Slicing up the rest of it I noticed that, on top of its phenomenal color, it smelled amazing--citrusy, sweet, earthy almost. Difficult to describe but definitely unique, exciting, enticing... One small pepper, minced, yielded maybe a tablespoon or two which I casually tossed into the giant cast iron roaster on top of the onions, garlic and ginger. No sooner had I done that than my lungs were met by a cloud of burn so hot it forced my breath out in an involuntary cough, a cough which persisted as I stirred the pot--and it didn't stop there... The steam wafted out of the kitchen and hit CM, two rooms away, causing him to cough as well. At one point it actually crossed my mind that the fumes alone might burn my eyeballs. That hot.

And thus it came to pass that my lovely stew, which was otherwise nicely spiced with a bit of nutmeg, freshly ground cardamom, a dash of cinnamon and a generous amount of turmeric, and which (along with the perfect buttered brown basmati rice with cardamom) was to be my answer to the question of what to eat for lunch during the remainder of the week, turned from potential non-Minnesotan "comfort food" to the culinary equivalent of "burning hell" in one short breath. Fatali, I now know.

Still pretty damn good, though. This one will be in the garden again next year, for sure.

some sandwich

For those of you in northern climes, here's a great way to make use of the last of those Solanaceae family veggies:

Eggplant, cut in 1/2 inch slices
Zucchini or summer squash, cut in 3/8 inch slices
Red pepper, cut in strips
Onion, cut in crescents
Mushrooms, sliced thickly
Garlic, chopped
Baguette (Rustica Bakery, Minneapolis MN, or other)
Mayonnaise
Chevre (Donnay Dairy, Kimball MN)
Mozzarella

Use as many veggies as seems reasonable, based on the number of people you intend to feed. One small eggplant, patty pan squash, good-sized tomato, little red pepper and onion and a few mushrooms was a nice amount for two people.

On a baking sheet or dish, toss all the veg with olive oil, a generous amount of good salt and freshly ground pepper. Roast at 450 degrees until slightly browned, turning once or twice.

Cut the baguette into serving-size pieces and slice lengthwise. Spread each with a bit of mayo, followed by a good layer of chevre, and top with roasted veggies. Cover the veggies with a few slices of mozzarella and broil until the cheese begins to brown.

If you don't have chevre or are afraid to try it, you might be able to get away with a little cream cheese (or nothing), but you'll really be missing out on something delicious without it. Likewise, good quality bread might make or break this meal, but you can probably do all right with a decent Italian loaf, or a nice sourdough, or a hearty wheat--just make sure it isn't flimsy and has some flavor. Easy, cheesy.

kinda kick-ass stir fry

Try (something like) this, it's pretty darn good.

Serves: ?
Time to prepare: 40 min
Prerequisite: basic cooking skills, common sense, love of veg

1/2 pound tofu, in 1/2 inch cubes (optional)
1 small to med onion, halved crosswise and sliced in crescents
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 inch or so fresh ginger root, peeled, cut crosswise and thinly sliced (or maybe 1/2 tsp ground, added to sauce)
1 or more or less (more or less) hot pepper (jalapeño, Hungarian wax, etc.) or a bit of chile sauce, to taste
1 med zucchini, quartered lengthwise and sliced
1/2 pound mushrooms, sliced or cut in wedges
1/2 pound broccoli, florets and stems (and leaves, too, if you've got 'em)
1 cup peapods, snow or snap, cut in 1 inch lengths
4-6 scallions, cut on the diagonal in 3/4 inch lengths
1 nice handful Thai (or sweet) basil leaves, whole
2 tbsp peanut or canola oil
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
few splashes worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp+ fish sauce
1 tbsp+ soy sauce
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp corn starch
some water

rice (basmati, long grain brown or white if you must), or noodles (udon, somen, soba or rice) - put this on first. do I need to explain?

If using tofu, in a cast iron skillet or wok, heat 1 tbsp peanut or canola oil with 1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil over med-high heat. Add tofu and fry until it begins to brown, turning a few times and dousing with fish, soy, and worcestershire sauce to season. It'll probably splatter, so don't wear your favorite shirt. Once browned, remove from pan and set aside.

In a small mixing bowl or measuring cup, what have you, mix 1 tbsp each fish and oyster sauce (find an Asian grocery and read labels until you find ones without additives; all you need is anchovies/oysters, sugar, water and salt--NO MSG! etc., using best judgement) and soy sauce (San-J Shoyu is my fav, or their Tamari, no sense in seeking further), with about a teaspoon of sugar, to taste. Add corn starch and a tablespoon or two of warm water. Stir thoroughly. At this point you can either dump this mixture into a little saucepan and simmer until it starts to thicken, or reserve and throw it in with the veg, in a few minutes.

Add remaining 1 tbsp peanut or canola oil and 1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil to skillet/wok and heat over med-high flame (if you have an electric range, it'll probably all be ok, but I have no idea how to help you). When hot, throw in the onions, followed by ginger + garlic, peppers, broccoli, zucchini, pea pods and mushrooms, something like 30 sec to 1-min apart, stirring frequently with maybe a shake of salt and a few turns of freshly ground black pepper. Don't overshoot it; there's no good in overcooking the veg--half-cooked is better than overcooked. Dump in your sauce and cook for a min or so; if the pan's good and hot it should boil quickly. Turn off the heat before you think you should, when everything's still just a little crunchy, and then toss in the scallions and basil. Stir and let sit for a couple of minutes. It'll keep cooking while you drool. Serve over rice or noodles in an attractive bowl. Sit on the back porch or front stoop and watch the birds.

put de lime in de coconut

Several years ago I decided it would be a good idea to start writing a cookbook. I got about as far as a rough draft of a table of contents, which was to include all my mom's specialties, and my grandmothers', and my father's (there are a few), and my sisters' and brother's and neice's, and CM's, and mine, and any other family recipes or others I'd found in one way or another to be reliable, satisfying, nourishing, outstanding or just plain old yummy. I've gotten a few of these down in writing but my frustrations with software and its inherent disinterest in foodstuffs have deterred me from getting very far on this project. However, in the interest of not being a total lazy ass, I am hereby recommitting myself to this undertaking and will make every honest attempt to spend 15 minutes per day to add a recipe to the mix (even though I should be spending that time doing crunches. one thing at a time, folks, one at a time.) By the end of the year I should have a pretty nice collection, if I fail to fail at this endeavor.

Now that we've got this new thing they call digital television, there are a few more public channels on the set, including any number of relatively lackluster shows about food. Junkie that I am (oh Iron Chef, how I miss Thee) I cannot help but get sucked in by even the most soft-spoken-round-bellied-meat-eating-city-slicker, much less all those bright-eyed farm lovers and sassy, drunken foragers... Watching all these people make food on camera makes me a) hungry, b) a little aroused and c) aware that CM and I eat very well and creatively, much of the time, both out of something akin to necessity and for the sheer pleasure of it. One of my favorite ways to pass the time is with a knife in hand. En guard! The gauntlet has been thrown...

So the challenge now is to keep up with this task, daily. I'll up the ante (self vs. self!) just a little by attempting to create some new edible compositions of my very own, as this year's harvest comes in, and if any of them is any good I'll share them here. Until then, an offering from my archives:

Yummy Thai Salad

1/2 c. wild rice (1 1/2 to 2 c. cooked, cooled slightly)
1/2 sm head red cabbage (approx 4 c.)
3 sm carrots, thinly sliced
1 md daikon radish, in 3/4" matchsticks
4 lg or 6 sm scallions, sliced
3-4 tbsp fresh cilantro, finely chopped (15-20 sprigs, stems and leaves)
2-3 tbsp shredded coconut, toasted (cast iron works, or toaster oven... keep watch)
1/2 to 3/4 c. cashew pieces, roasted or toasted
1-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

dressing:
3 tbsp rice vinegar
1-2 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp shoyu, tamari or other soy sauce
1/2 fresh lime or 1 tsp lime juice concentrate
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
2 tbsp canola or peanut oil
1/4 tsp powdered ginger
1 tsp sugar

Throw it all together, change the amounts, see what happens. For something a bit lighter try rice noodles instead of wild rice, use green cabbage and add some fresh mint. Douse with fish sauce. Enjoy...

(btw, I have to admit that I can't really remember if this one's any good, but I did write it down and actually used the word "yummy". Must have meant something...)

And now for something...completely different

Another late meal alone, of a different sort altogether from yesterday's indulgence in the luxuries of Spring: seared tilapia baked in a chipotle-jerk sauce and served over rice pilaf of red onion, garlic, candied pineapple, pepperoncini, shredded carrot, orange juice, toasted coconut and cashews, with a twist of lime and chopped cilantro. May sound a little weird but it looked fantastic and tasted even better.

Despite the fact that it might have been pulled off the menu of a local hot spot, my meal tonight is a lesson in leftovers: sauce made from chipotle puree and bbq sauce (both homemade) that have been buried in the fridge for months, rice from last Friday's takeout, cilantro on its last legs, lime sitting in the produce drawer for no reason, carrot so old it was growing a beard... (although I did make a special trip for the coconut). There is something supremely satisfying to me in making use of what is available and creating something spectacular out of the mundane, assembling disparate pieces into a whole, salvaging the good parts, loving garbage... I think the word is "resourceful". I try to be. It makes me happy when I succeed.

Next challenge: parsley root. Go ahead and lower your expectations, if you must, but you might be pleasantly surprised...

Dinner for One

You really don't need a date when your food is this sexy... A late dinner tonight, with a crusty baguette and stanky washed-rind triple-creme to start, followed by a perfect plateful of tilapia, sweet and flaky; luscious asparagus spears, slick and firm but tender and without a trace of bitterness; fresh morels, earthy and mellow, almost other-worldly (there's just no way to describe how they feel on your tongue...)--all gently sauteed and then poached in butter with a splash of wine, a bit of lemon and a crank or two of black pepper, no salt needed. My Lilac wine still has a slight edge on it, but it's coming around--a deep, round, floral sensation with a dry citrusy finish and a nice bite, a little more liquor than wine but quite nice if you like that sort of thing--and you can be sure you haven't tasted anything like it. 'Tis the season. Hope you're enjoying it.