Homemade mayonnaise is my new favorite condiment. Forget the bleached out jellified gunk that can last years in the blue and yellow bottle. The homemade kind has a bright lemon flavor that will have you using it more like the star of your dish, rather than an extra. (The horrors of mayonnaise previously discussed here.) But the best part, once you’ve accomplished the basic formula, you can add all sorts of extra flavors, turning the seemingly blase item into something stellar:

The addition of garlic makes a fantastic topping for potatoes.

Add lemon juice and zest for a lobster dunk.

Fold in smoked paprika for shrimp.

And the list goes on. I had extra mayonnaise sitting around the other week, fried up an Ancho chile and pureed it with some mayonnaise. The result was a rich and complex mayonnaise with hints of dark chocolate and a lingering, yet not overwhelming spice. While sweet potato fries came to mind, I scratched it after a trip to the fish monger: fish tacos.

In the depths of winter we long for fresh vegetables, but fish always makes me happy. And because winter is the ideal time for some of my favorite catches (lobster and oysters– that’s right, simple pleasures) I can keep quiet until the buds break through.

Until then, fish tacos (or heck, lobster tacos with lobster prices so deliciously low) are a great way to trudge through these bleak months. Served warm or at room temperature, a little bit of spice mixed in will warm you inside out in no time.

Another taco bonus: storage vegetables make the perfect toppings. Don’t get stuck in the lie that all tacos should be topped with chopped tomato, lettuce, cheddar cheese and a dollop of sour cream! A little cabbage tossed with lime zest and juice (forget that lettuce) and crisp baby turnips thinly sliced (instead of a spring radish) and of course, some ancho mayonnaise (instead of cheese or sour cream) provides a winning combination. A sprinkle of fresh cilantro or parsley before you seal the deal and bite in is a delicious accent that works wonders.

Fish Tacos w/ Ancho Mayonnaise & Winter Storage Vegetables
Serving Size= 2 persons. Cook time= aprx 10 minutes. Prep time= aprx 20 minutes.
For the Ancho Mayonnaise (recipe adapted from Joy of Cooking):
2 dried ancho chile, stemmed and seeded
1 tablespoon peanut oil
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon honey
1-1/4 cups olive oil
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
For the Tacos:
4 mini flour tortillas
1/4 of a medium-sized red cabbage, sliced into 1/2-inch slivers
pinch of salt
juice of 1 lime plus zest
2 baby salad turnips, sliced thinly
1/4 cup fresh parsley or cilantro, chopped
3/4 lb Preferred white fish (a flaky fish, like mahi mahi works well, as do meatier choices like monkfish or lobster)
2 tablespoons olive oil

Make the Mayonnaise:
Heat a pan on medium-high, add peanut oil and fry ancho chile on both sides to lightly blacken. Set aside to cool slightly and cut into 1/2-inch wide slivers. In a blender, combine egg, salt, cayenne, honey, ancho chile and 1/4 cup of the olive oil. Blend until well combined. With blender on high, slowly add 1/2 cup more olive oil, then slowly add the lemon juice, then slowly add the remaining olive oil, stopping when a thick consistency is reached.
Make the Tacos:
Heat a dry pan on high heat. Add tortillas, scalding about 45 seconds on each side, until slightly browned and warm. Wrap in tinfoil and set aside. Reduce heat to medium-high and prepare vegetables while pan cool slightly: Slice cabbage and toss with salt, lime juice and zest; slice turnips; chop fresh herbs, arrange all on a platter for toppings. Rinse off fish, pat dry, then sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add olive oil to the pan and sear fish 3-4 minutes each side, until cooked through. Flake off bone, fold in 2 tablespoons of the ancho mayonnaise (or more if desired) and serve ingredients, assembling tacos with desired toppings as you eat.

I have made paella in the past, but dare I say I have (nearly) perfected my paella prowess. Nearly because I must work on “the crust” and perfected because after a recent dinner with a Spanish friend, who claims all food in America is horrible (no matter the origin or chef), had to concede that my paella was in fact, “just as good, maybe better, than some in Spain.” Because of her limited English skills I will simply understand that in her translation she actually meant “best ever.”

The key to perfection that was missing in my first paella was the paella pan. With a plethora of paella now under my belt, I realize this is key to near perfect paella. It may be difficult to justify purchasing a pan with one purpose, but if your goal is perfect paella, get the pan (a fairly inexpensive one can be purchased through Despana). (In fairness, a delicious rice dish is still possible without it, though it will not be true paella.)

After a good cooking vessel, it’s all about the ingredients. While I don’t think short grain rice is necessary– unless authenticity is your goal, using the proper stock builds flavor to an incredible degree. This, and the willingness to part with far more saffron than your pocketbook deems sane (look at this as a one-time splurge since most of us rarely use saffron).

A fish paella needs a fish stock. If your paella will have meat, a chicken stock will work. To build that perfect stock, I bought a cod fish head for about $2 at the fish monger. After purchase, I questioned my Spanish friend: What kind of fish should stock be made from? “Cod, of course.” Of course.

Pointer: fish stock is easy to make, but it is important to use non-fatty fish. Salmon is bad. Cod is good. One can also use shrimp shells or lobster shells. Another great thing about fish stock is that it takes about 15 minutes to make. Any longer will produce a bitter stock. Easy: Saute rough chopped onion and garlic, add fish head, bay leaf, add water, bring to a boil, reduce heat, simmer for 10 minutes, strain and set aside. In a pinch, bottles of oyster stock are okay, though overly salted, or some fish mongers have pre-made stock.

With the fish stock done, consider the types of fish to use. Again, nothing too fatty or oily as the flavor will overtake the dish. Nothing too flaky, as it will fall apart. With this in mind, you can play with sustainability issues in your neck of the woods. If you cannot afford lobster, monkfish is a good substitute (with okay sustainability). Neither is important in your final dish, but will add a nice meatiness to the final paella. Others to mix and match include shrimp, calamari, clams, mussels and scallops.

Now, nothing left to do but make paella. It is not as time consuming as it seems, nor as overwhelming, and the road to perfection is well worth the effort. D and I make a pan loaded with $30 worth of fish (approximately 1 pound of everything) and it lasts us a solid 5 days (10 meals). Price wise, you can’t beat that.

This recipe is adapted from a recipe found in the Cuisines of Spain cookbook by, Teresa Barrenechea. After the third paella, I stopped opening the book, but credit where credit due, no doubt.

(Perfected) Seafood Paella
Serving Size= 8 persons. Active time= aprx 45 minutes. Inactive time= 12 minutes.
1 dozen littleneck clams
2 tablespoons coarse salt
4 cups fish stock (see recipe above)
3 pinches + saffron
3-4 tablespoons olive oil (the Spanish love their olive oil)
1 Spanish onion, sliced thin
6 large cloves garlic, crushed
1 large red or orange bell pepper, seeded and cut lengthwise into narrow strips
1 pound monkfish, cut into 2 inch pieces
2-1/2 cups Spanish, short grain, rice
3/4 pound calamari, whole or rings
3/4 pound medium or large shrimp
2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and de-bearded
salt to taste
1/4 cup parsley plus more for garnish
juice of 1 lemon, plus more for garnish

Clean clams under cold water. Discard any open clams, or those that do not close when touched. Place clams in a large bowl with the coarse salt and let stand for 30 minutes as you prep remaining ingredients. (Clams will release sand trapped in shells.) Keep stock at a simmer In a small sauce pot, keep stock at a simmer, add saffron and stir to dissolve. Add saffron and decrease the heat retain simmer.

Preheat oven to 500F. Heat olive oil in a large paella pan on medium heat. Add onion, garlic and bell pepper, stirring occasionally, 10 minutes, until everything is soft. Turn heat to high, add monkfish and cook 2 minutes each side, until lightly browned and opaque. Add rice and saute for 5 minutes, stirring. Add 1 cup hot stock, scraping up any brown bits attached to the bottom of pan, and stir until soaked up. Fold in shrimp and calamari, add remaining stock, stir to incorporate, and bring dish a boil. Drain clams. Arrange the clams and mussels over top of dish, without pushing them too far under the liquid. Transfer uncovered pan to oven for 12-15 minutes, until rice has absorbed all liquid and clams and mussels have opened. Remove from oven and discard any clams that do not open. Fold in parsley and sprinkle lemon juice over top. Cover with a towel and let sit for 7 minutes. Serve with more lemon and parsley over top as garnish

I was going to post another post-summer wrap up when D told me I had to get these babies online– our Election Doughnuts.

We had a quart of raw milk go sour on us the other week so I’ve been attempting to use it up in baking applications. (Whereas raw milk will go sour and is still safe to consume (you can even consume it as a beverage), pasteurized milk goes rancid when it goes bad and should be discarded immediately when an off smell is noticed.)

I scanned baking books for quick recipes that required a lot of buttermilk (replacing it with my sour milk) and no matter how many cups I thought I’d be using up, I could swear this is a bottomless quart. Last week I made a loaf each of jalapeno cornbread and gingerbread, with milk to spare. But, it was a doughnut recipe I had been eyeing since the beginning of my search I was dying to try, but set aside because I didn’t think it used enough of the milk (only 3/4 a cup). This time, I hoped to finish off the milk.

We made this batter last night and fried up a few circular poppers before hitting the pillow, refrigerating the remaining dough (still unable to finish off the sour milk!). When a late afternoon snack was in order, and I rummaged for some cookie cutters that would work on the doughnuts, I pulled out a large square and a small star.

“This is weird,” D commented.

“No, cool.”

“Oh, wait, Election Doughnuts.”

A little more pre-thought and we could have made these rectangular (more flag shaped) with powdered sugar stripes (stencil some stripes)– maybe tomorrow with the last of the dough. As D transfered these out of the lard (that’s right, fried the good ol’ fashion way), I dusted them with powdered sugar and lamented, too bad we’re not having an election party tonight. But that just means more treats for us.

This batter was a bit of an experimentation. I prefer cake doughnuts, over yeasted (cake have a denser consistency), my favorite being the chocolate cake with sugar glaze. D is fond of the apple cider doughnut in fall months– also cake, so obviously a cake doughnut was in order. Step 1, doughnut style, over and easy.

Step 2 was to assemble a chocolate-cider doughnut without using D’s precious apple cider (he has found his new favorite beverage that combines apple cider, rum, brandy, lemon juice and maple syrup– or “all things perfect in fall” so I am not allowed to touch his cider). Instead, we went with semi-sweet chocolate and extra nutmeg for that fall flavor. Chocolate and nutmeg works, and the final doughnut had a hint of chocolate with a lingering nutmeg note. Nice.

Overall, I would have liked a little more rise in these doughnuts, but they were a good first time try. The finished consistency was good, but the chocolate flavoring isn’t there yet. Because I used semi-sweet chocolate, I reduced the sugar by 2 tablespoons. The end result was a doughnut that would make a good plain cake doughnut, but was not sweet enough to reach the chocolate cake or cider doughnut results desired, more sugar needed.

So if there is still time in your state, get out and vote– and eat your doughnut!

Chocolate-Cider Buttermilk Doughnut
Recipe TK

An important garden lesson: you cannot stop a cucumber plant from going crazy– Actually, you cannot stop any vining plant from clinging and climbing wherever it sees fit. But let’s talk cucumbers.

I planted an heirloom variety known as lemon cucumber. Lemon because the resulting fruit is fairly lemon shaped and ripen from light green to a bright lemon yellow. When I checked on the plant two Fridays ago there were a number of flowers waiting to burst with fruit. I left for a week to visit D in upstate New York terrified I would miss out on a massive cucumber harvest. (Seriously, I had three different dreams about lost or unattended garden bounty.)

While upstate, I purchased a beautiful 3-gallon ceramic crock pot from a lovely antique dealer– really a gift for all those cucumbers ready to spring to life. When D and I returned Sunday we headed to the garden for our first massive harvest: corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant and ever more basil.

We’re overflowing with cucumbers now and decided to take action. Garden cucumbers head to the crock for brining and CSA cucumbers get crock treatment or turned into the great little snack you see pictured above. I’ll provide a picture of the brined cucumbers once the pickles are (hopefully) tasty and ready for the camera.

Until then, satisfy your cucumber (and tomato) bounty with this fresh and easy snack. I used a hearty cranberry-walnut bread as the base. Any other good bread will do, or go without bread, using the cucumber as a base. Top with any fresh herb and voila, a tasty garden treat.

Cucumber Bites
Serving Size= 5 piece. Prep time= 5 minutes.
5 small slices, or 2 larger slices cut small of cranberry-walnut bread
1 cucumber, sliced 1/2-inch thick
1 vine ripe tomato, sliced 1/2-inch thick
salt/ pepper to taste
5 slices, 1/4-inch thick, feta
fresh thyme for garnish (parsley, chives, parsley or cilantro will work too)
lemon spritz (optional)

Method: Toast bread until golden. Layer bread with cucumber and tomato. Season with salt and pepper then top with feta and a sprinkle of herbs. Add a spritz of lemon over top for some added zip.

Many people I know have a funny relationship with food: they are on constant diets, yet continue to gain weight. I’m not counting people with real health problems, but those consistently obsessed with weight loss and dieting (although I suppose this could be considered a real health problem psychologically).

We are a nation obsessed with our image and one of the most obvious ways to control our look, short of surgery or buying new clothing, is to control what we ingest. The problem as I see it, is that when we stop listening to our bodies and rely on special diets, we deprive ourselves of what our bodies actually need. If you don’t have strict enough control, you end up bingeing when you are confronted with the food your body craves.

Each of us is in fact a unique individual with special needs only our bodies understand– not a diet book that can supposedly work miracles on millions. If we can stick to real foods (fruits, vegetables, grains), without too much added salts and sugars, staying away from processed goods (which just make you crave more), our bodies eventually regulate and notify us about what is required for continued function. Of course, I’m no nutritionist.

There is one woman in particular I run into every month or so on the street: oh Stacey! You look like you’re losing weight!

It may or may not be true. This greeting, or, “Wow, you’re looking great,” are two common conversation starters people like to provide when it has been a while between sightings (and continues our obsession over our bodies). Every time I see this particular woman it is the same statement, followed by, are you on a special diet? Every time I see her I provide the same secret answer.

She asks, one because it is polite I suppose, but two, because she has a litany of legitimate health problems, many of which can actually be solved if she can create a healthy relationship with food. She is looking for the secret. Sure, I tell her. I’ve been frying my eggs in leftover bacon fat. I eat pork chops, roasted chicken, yogurt, cheese and a lot of vegetables, raw or sauteed in olive oil… You know, whatever is around.

Well you must cook a lot, she counters. I make lasagna, that’s it.

Well, that’s good, I say, that you cook. But in my mind I’m reminded of weekly food calendars, with hers looking something like this: Monday, lasagna; Tuesday, lasagna; Wednesday, lasagna… In the time it takes to make lasagna for a week, could she make, say maybe some chicken? Or in even less time some fish? Or really, anything other than lasagna?

Sure I cook (not as often as most people think), but most of what I make are quick meals that take just as long as opening a can and setting the microwave– and even faster than heading to a restaurant and placing an order. If it’s a food that takes longer to prepare, I make enough for leftovers I don’t mind eating cold or which can be reheated easily on the stove top (I don’t have a microwave).

So the secret special diet is that it is not a secret at all. It’s one people generations before us followed because there was no alternative: eat foods with ingredients you can name, know where they come from, or how they are produced or grown. Avoid processed and packaged food and drink, stay away from corn syrup, hydrogenated oils and bypass the advertisements telling you to load up on sugars, starches and new “low-calorie,” “all natural” treats… And maybe one other thing: Follow the variety seasons offer.

As I ate my breakfast this morning I thought about her question and was inspired to take a picture. Was I glad I was not eating lasagna? Yes. Was I glad this meal took all of 8 minutes to prepare? Yes.

There is no recipe to this meal because by the picture I think it is pretty straight forward:
sauteed asparagus
an egg, however you like it
a piece of cheese
slice of whole grain toast with butter
some other veggies or fruit, if available
fresh herbs, if available

Just Braise disappeared for a bit, but I assure you we kept eating. My energy has been focused on a food literacy project in NYC public schools and re-writing dairy pages for a non-profit. Once published, I’ll share my extensive knowledge of the dairy world with everyone. Until then, I have self-dubbed myself the NYC Milkmaid.

I assure you readers have not missed much. In the past few weeks dishes were sometimes brisk, consisting of leftovers, frozen soups and toasted bagels (we all have our days). While delicious, let us just say it was nothing to write home about. Can you blame us? As T.S. Eliot said, April is the cruellest month. What is a foodie to do when those root vegetables no longer look as crisp and inviting as they once did? What happens when dreams of spring greens appear so close yet feel so far?

We turn to the sea.

As I may have overly noted again and again, I live deliciously close to a handful of fish markets. I implore any of you who live remotely near to these dying markets (butchers, fish mongers and assorted now “specialty” markets) to shop these stores. The quality is often far superior than any supermarket and the workers (often the owners or extended family) know what they are selling and take their products seriously. When were these fish caught? Answered. How was this beef raised? Answered. Where was this pasta produced? Answered. It brings us back to the small stores so quickly falling through the cracks that are truly needed to connect us to a sense of community.

When D and I walked by one of these markets and saw the large handwritten sign, “Soft Shell Crabs are IN,” we knew we needed them. I stopped by a few hours later to pick some up and joked with the husband-wife team who own the place about prepping these babies:

Me: “What do you think is the best way to do these up?”
Husband: “Fry them! These babies are fresh! You know how I know? I made them last night, deeeelicious.”
Wife: “You didn’t make anything! You never make anything. You kidding me?”
Husband: “Well I ate them!”
Wife: “Yeah, you sure ate them, it’s about all you know how to do!”
Husband: “I know how to clean ‘em. I clean ‘em real good. I’ll clean them for you honey, you’ll see.”

Okay, so it was less of me joking and more listening in on an awkward domestic dispute about household chores.

But I had my soft shell crabs (with a free lemon I was told I would “definitely need”), I had my recipe, care of my bickering suppliers, and I had some homemade mayonnaise eagerly awaiting the chance to be turned into tartar sauce. (The mayonnaise is another story of love and loathing.)

In fact, the crabs were so fresh-tasting of the ocean, that after D and I finished off one each for dinner and then leftovers for lunch the following day, I bought four more to make crab tacos the next day! When they are back again I promise to pick more up and saute them in butter and lemon. (Soft shell crabs are blue crabs that have grown, shedding their shells. The waters have to be warm enough for them to grow. Soft shell crabs are now available from Florida to North Carolina. By the end of June we will have more local North East crabs. It’s a long and delicious season!)

My favorite application of the soft shell crab was in the above sandwich. I love the way the crab looks like it is ready to walk out and pinch you. As our spring greens have yet to grace our tables, we bulked up these sandwiches with some creamy avocado slices, a great balance to the crispness of the bread and zesty sauce.

You can ask your fish provider to clean the crabs for you. To clean yourself, simply cut off the eyes at front, remove the lungs from the sides, and the little bit of slime out the rear. Go here to see how The Minimalist does it.

Fried Soft Shell Crab Sandwich
Active time= about 15 minutes. Serving Size= 4 people
For the Crabs:
4 soft shell crabs
1 egg
2-3 dashes Tabasco sauce
2 cups whole wheat flour (or mixture flour and cornmeal)
1 teaspoon Old Bay
vegetable oil to fill 1 inch up the side of the pan

1) Begin warming the oil on medium-high heat.
2) Place the egg and Tabasco in a bowl wide enough to fit a crab, scramble until combined. In another bowl, mix the flour and Old Bay until combined.
3) Once the oil is hot enough (test by placing the end of a chopstick in, if it bubbles, it is ready) dredge each crab in the egg, then transfer to the flour and toss until well coated. Transfer the crabs one at a time to the hot pan. Do not crowd the pan. Fry 2-3 minutes each side until lightly browned, set aside on a paper towel to dry and sprinkle with another dash of Old Bay.

For the Tartar Sauce:
1 cup mayonnaise
juice of 1 lemon
2 teaspoons horseradish sauce
2-3 dashes Tabasco sauce
1 tablespoons dill relish (or chopped pickles)

1) Mix all ingredients to combine.

To Assemble the Sandwich:
Toast your preferred bread until golden (I used sourdough). Smear each slice with a hefty dosage of tartar sauce, splay sliced avocado along the sauce and top with a crab and the second slice of bread. For easy handling, cut the sandwich in half.

Happy New Year!Please take notice (some of you already have) that things have changed around Just Braise. I’ve implemented a new, cleaner design. I believe the new look not only displays my dishes more deliciously, but has a soothing feel that aids in digestion (much more so than the old blue/ orange harshness of last year)!

With every New Year we are asked to make Resolutions. I am sort of sick of the usual “lose weight,” ones that really just prep a person for the beach and allow the weight roller coaster to start up again in the fall. Really, do people still make these sorts resolutions or is it the media onslaught of fat trimming pills to pop come the New Year (has anyone else noticed these all over TV?!) that make us think everyone is making them. While I do think overall lifestyle changes are healthy, they should not be a New Year makeover.

Here are my “Resolutions”: Eat more food that is better for the environment, as well as the people that bring my food to my table (farmers and workers alike). To become better educated on where my food comes from, what is inside (packaging labels as well as gene splice) and the global impact my food choices have on us all. On a broader scale, I hope that more people have access to better food choices, more reasonably priced pesticide-free foods, hear less lies about GMOs, and increase worker rights on farms and in factories. Maybe these are not all resolutions, but simple hopes for the New Year.

As for the picture in this post…

D and I ate a lot of kale back in ‘07. I had never really considered the leafy green before. Like most people, I stuck with what was easy. Simply, more often than not, with what I knew. Sure I ventured out and bought new things here and there (much to D’s initial horror) because finding new delicious foods is always a positive.

But my local groceries don’t really carry much kale, which is unusual– it’s a New York food staple. It is so easy to grow, and more importantly, it is so healthy. Seriously, there is so much good information about kale it’s almost like the new chicken soup (see here, here, and here)! There are even whole blogs waxing poetic on kale (see here and here).

As a member of my local CSA I received a lot of kale. I’m talking every week. Initially, I chopped raw kale super fine and tossed it into salads. Mixed in with all the other vegetables it just became another complex, earthly flavor in those salads. Growing tired of that, I threw every bunch into omelettes. Sure, not very exciting, but now I was cooking the kale– One giant kale omelette after another. As the season tapered on and I realized I grew tired of my kale omelettes, I experimented with other methods.

While some folks in the CSA juiced their kale (adding in peaches, apple juice and more), some made kale pesto, others threw it into soups. I thought these methods, more often than not, covered up that great subtle bitterness I had come to love in the vegetable. So I thought, hey, it looks sort of like lettuce, and voila, the kale sandwich.

This method was so good D and I started making it nightly. We grabbed for extra kale at distribution (no joke) and when we ran out of kale, used other bitter greens (cabbage, broccoli rabe, collards). Still, our favorite green was kale. I added a creamy goat cheese to play with the earthy qualities of kale and come Thanksgiving, I made this sandwich for D’s sisters who ate it up– “that was kale?!” (Note that D’s sisters were subjected to kale salad earlier in the season and were not so into it, though the kale omelette did win hearts).

D and I eat these sandwiches open-faced and find them quite filling. You can cut these sandwiches into bite sized appetizer noshes and serve them at a party. If you have no bread, use crackers. If you don’t like goat cheese, use swiss, a smoky gouda, or whatever you find works best for you.

As for the celeriac chips. Need I remind folks that fried things are delicious? Celeriac, or celery root, is a variety of celery grown as a root vegetable. It sort of looks like a crushed brain when you buy it, but smells and tastes slightly, of celery. Just peel the skin and use it as you like. It’s great raw, as a soup, folded into mashed potatoes, or in this application, fried! Simply slice it thin, fry it 3-4 minutes in hot oil, drain on a towel and sprinkle with salt.

Kale Salami Sandwich
Active time= 10 minutes.
1 tablespoon butter or olive oil
1 bunch kale
2 slices good bread (I like to use sourdough)
2 tablespoons goat cheese
salami

1) Warm the butter or olive oil in a skillet on medium heat. Roll kale like cigars and slice into thin strips. Add kale into the skillet, coat with butter and cover.
2) Toast bread. Spread each with goat cheese.
3) Stir kale, when it has turned a deep green, add on top of cheese. Add a few slices of salami.

I realize this salad sounds all too simple. It is a variation of the classic Greek Salad that has become all too common in our restaurant going (or home) lives. Just below the “house salad” we now often find the “Greek salad.”

The downfall I find with the Greek salad is it leaves me wanting more. The cucumbers fail to fill me and there are only so many tomatoes I can eat before the acid hits my stomach and turns me the wrong way. I realize many folks have their own versions of this clasic salad, but this is my simple take on it (rather, one of many simple takes on it).

I made this a few weeks ago when I was alone. D often objects to eating salad as a mid-day meal, complaining the energy doesn’t last. I was so captivated by this salad I decided to try it out on D the following day. I knew he would love it, but would it fill him for a day running around?
The result… You bet so. Not only was D satiated until dinner, he even made several exclamations about the flavor combinations (which are really nothing so unique).

The trick is in the bread. Homemade croutons are a must. For this salad I used old sourdough bread cut into “fingers,” brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and pepper and toasted until golden. They are great to pick up and munch on between bites, or used to scoop up leftover cheese and olive oil. They work in any salad and act as a tasty filler.

This salad might sadly be the last viewing of fresh local tomatoes. If you hurry, your local market might still have some end-of-season tomatoes left, but they are fading fast.

Greek Adaptation Salad
Serving Size= 2 persons. Prep time= 10 min. Cook time=3 minutes.
2 slices old sourdough bread
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup green beans, picked and cut into 2 inch pieces
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1 inch pieces
1 ripe tomato, sliced into 8 wedges
1/4 cup crumbled feta
Kalamata olives
Salt/ Pepper
Parsley

1) Brush sourdough with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Slice into 1 inch thick strips and toast until golden.
2) Blanch green beans in boiling water, 30 second to 1 minute, until darkened. Dredge in ice water.
3) Gently toss green beans with sliced tomato, chopped red pepper, crumbled feta, 1-2 tablespoons olive oil and salt and pepper.
4) Sprinkle with parsley and top with Kalamata olives. Arrange croutons around salad or sprinkled over top.
NOTE: Want to make this even more of a meal? Add 1 can washed and drained butter beans!

D and I have received, dare I say, too many tomatoes from our local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). Don’t get me wrong, they are probably the best tomatoes I have ever had. And no joke, every time one is sliced into D makes some comment about how amazing they are– like I didn’t hear it the first 30 tomatoes we sliced into the deep sweet skins. They really are amazing, but it’s too much for two people to eat.

The first week was fabulous. 10 tomatoes, all over 2 pounds. I gave one to my father who made some comment about the “pumpkin” I had given him a few days later. I brought a batch of gazpacho over to a party of 12 people (where everyone made some comment about how sweet it was), but 2 pound tomatoes go pretty far and I was still left with 7 tomatoes (that’s 14 pounds!). But we trucked on through leaving only 2 tomatoes over for the next week…

…When we received another 8, plus a pint of cherry tomatoes. That brought our tomatoes back to 10. Tomato salads galore: tomato with basil, tomato with mozzerella and basil, tomato with riccata, fresh tomato sauce, pizza with thinly sliced tomato, guacomole, sandwiches, tomato fritattas. We still had 1 left when we received our next shipment…

7 more plus 2 quarts of cherry tomatoes (total now 8 plus 2 quarts). I gave 2 to my brother’s girlfriend. She was going on and on about how horrible tomatoes were in New York City. Well, you’re not buying from the greenmarket, huh? She told me she missed the tomatoes her parents grew in Saint Louis. I gave her 2 tomatoes. She said she hadn’t smelled anything so good since her childhood.

It’s amazing an amazing feeling when you can give a gift so simple like tomatoes and have people calling you for days telling you how fabulous they were. We must really be neglected in New York City.

The dish above celebrates the sweet powerhouse of this summer’s tomatoes. I was looking for a dish to use those slightly past due tomatoes. You know the ones, a little too soft to eat, but you don’t want to throw them out. It was a hit, and took minutes, perfect for these days that are fading fast (with plenty of heat). I think of this dish as a Middle Eastern-Italian-South American fusion, but all summer.

Note: Quinoa (keen-wa) is a grain that is high in protein (surprise) and of course, fiber. It is originally from South America. It’s flavor is close to couscous, but a little wheatier in flavor (though it is gluten-free). It comes in light brown and red.

Quinoa w/ Summer Vegetables
Serving Size= 2. Active Time= 5 minutes. Inactive Time= 10 min.
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
4 shallots, skinned and quartered
1 ear corn, sliced from stalk
1 cup quinoa
1/4 cup fresh basil, tightly packed and loosely chopped
olive oil
Parmesan cheese to taste
salt/ pepper to taste

1) Bring a sauce pot to a boil. Cook quinoa according to package directions (usually 2 parts water, 1 part grain). Quinoa takes about 10 minutes to cook. (While water is coming to a boil prepare veggies.)
2) Turn on oven’s broiler. In an oven safe pan, put tomatoes, corn and shallots. Toss with 2 tablespoons olive oil, salt and pepper. Place under broiler for about 10 min. Check after 5 minutes, stir. Vegetables should be blackened once done.
3) Once done, mix vegetables with quinoa. Stir in basil and top with Parmesan.

Note: Add chicken or beef to this dish to make it a main course! This dish is great warm or cold.

It’s more like falafel is making me crazy! But how can you resist the freshness of flavors in Middle Eastern cuisine?

I came to love and loathe Middle Eastern foods in high school when I took a three week tour of Israel with my youth group. There were many days eating on Kibbutz with comments like, “are you kidding?! Cucumber, tomatoes and hummus again?!” But despite all the hummus consumed on that trip, I still cannot forget the hummus I had at the main marketplace in Jerusalem. Sweet, nutty and full of paprika, to this day I search to perfect my own recipe to match this memory.

I found falafel as an undergrad. It was fast food that didn’t seem so unhealthy and best of all, it was cheap. I could often be found between classes grabbing a falafel, standing just outside the small storefront nibbling away with tahini coating my lips and dripping on the sidewalk down below. I took friends visiting from out of town to the little shop and I even took D on our first date for a late night snack. But I have never tried making it myself.

Walking through the grocery I often spot and am tempted to pick up a box of falafel mix. As much as I love falafel, I cannot get myself to purchase the boxed mix. Yes, there are chickpeas in there, but get down the list and sure enough those hard-to-pronounce unknowns appear. I can’t make myself believe that off in the Middle East, or even my Lebanese or Egyptian friends here in the U.S., folks are whipping up boxed falafel. Where do these boxes come from?

To my surprise and horror, my own cookbooks I checked for reference suggested using boxed falafel mix. Wait, really? A cookbook calls for a box?! Truth be told, I don’t own a Middle Eastern cookbook (since I usually just reference friends and their parents for recipes). I took to the internet and researched away. Recipes I found seemed fairly close to hummus recipes before frying. I had some hummus a few days old in the fridge so I figured this would make good falafel– dry enough to form balls and fry. I also thought that my desire to use hummus, no longer desirable for snacking, would make sense historically. (Instead of throwing away old hummus, why not deep fry it?)

So I chopped some parsley, folded it into the hummus, formed golf ball sized nuggets and D threw them into a pan of hot oil. They fell apart. When I say fall apart I don’t mean the little balls broke apart and were still okay to eat. I mean the balls fell apart, totally crumbling into nothingness. D had to fish them out with a sieve the added comment, “Wow, we haven’t failed like this in a while.”

And when he says that he really means a long time. I cannot recall a time we made something so horribly inedible we had to throw it away. Sure, maybe it didn’t look (or fully taste) great, but one of us (me) usually not wanting to waste food, would suffer through eating it. What we had here was fried powder that was impossible to eat and had to enter the garbage.

We both took to the internet to find recipes and compare our separate results. The one major difference in falafel to hummus is that no liquids are added. When D and I make hummus we often add olive oil and yogurt to create a creamy result (that keeps smooth for days). The more falafel recipes we found, the greater the number that excluded these ingredients, as well as tahini. This kept the batter as dry as possible. (Which is why I thought our 3 day old hummus (with no yogurt), nice and dry, would work perfectly.)

We combined our favorite recipes and went in for Round Two. We stuck one in to test. Same result. The pictures on the internet lied. These little nuggets also fell apart as well. No golden balls of falafel came to our plates.

Back on the internet D began typing in “Falafel falls apart.” To his surprise, he didn’t even get to the first “l” of “falls” when Google auto-filled his results and he found multiple comments from ornery eaters attempting to make falafel.

Who knew these little buggers could be so difficult?

We did find the most common suggestions for falafel that falls apart is 1) Refrigerate for a few hours (we were hungry now) or 2) Add flour.

Back to our falafel balls, minus one brave comrade, I threw them back into the bowl and added almost 1/4 cup flour. Mixed it up, formed balls, flattened slightly (so oil would cover them completely) and coated the discs lightly with a more flour. I quickly told D it was not too late. We could just eat this dry hummus-like batter on our Barbari bread and it would be just fine. We threw a tester in again. Finally!

We topped stuffed the falafel into our Barbari bread (a flat bread originally from Iran that is an arms length long. Once a portion is torn off, it can easily be stuffed), added a yogurt and herb dressing, fresh tomatoes and topped it with some lip smacking sticky tahini. The best part of this falafel is that they remain crispy on the outside, but are soft and creamy inside.

Falafel
Prep time (getting it right the first time)= 12 minutes. Cook time= 4 minutes.
1- 15 oz can chickpeas (garbanzo beans), washed and drained
1/4 cup loosely chopped parsley
2 cloves garlic
1/2 teaspoon cumin powder
1/2 teaspoon coriander powder
1/2 teaspoon paprika
2 tablespoons red onion
1/4 cup flour (set aside 2 tablespoons in a small bowl for coating finished falafel balls)
salt/ pepper to taste
vegetable oil

1) Begin heating vegetable oil on high heat in a deep sauce pan (oil should come about 1 inch up the side of the pan).
2) Place remaining ingredients (minus 2 tablespoons of flour) into a food processor or blender. Process until fairly even consistency is reached, leaving some larger chickpea chunks, if desired.
3) Form golf ball sized balls of batter and flatten slightly. Coat lightly in remaining flour.
4) Add falafel discs to oil when hot and fry about 4 minutes, until golden on all sides. Serve warm served wrapped in pita or other flat bread.

And the yogurt-herb sauce we topped it with (along with tahini and tomatoes):
3 tablespoons yogurt
2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
juice of 1/2 a lemon
pinch of salt
Mix until combined.