Oh Brother

Last post: June 1
Today's date: November 13
Me: useless

Even though I am the only person who reads this (not false modesty; if I knew how to prove such things via technology, I would), I am annoyed at letting V&V lapse for so long, if only because it is one of few diversions I have that doesn't involve television, mind-altering substances or buying new clothes (number of garbage bags filled with clothes that I am going to "get rid of" sitting in the corner of my room right now: five?) Seeing as I have recently taken steps to chip away at my lazy and apathetic nature, perhaps I can recommit myself to writing at least a little something 2-5x/wk (and only in abbreviation form.) Summer was a bit rough, psychologically, and just a moment ago I was actually stunned to look out my front window and see the tree in our courtyard was completely orange instead of the green that it would be if I were to think about it without looking at it. The weather has been mostly mild, allowing me to ignore the fact that grey winter is imminent.

What inspired me this morning was eating some leftover spring rolls I'd picked up yesterday at Nhu Lan bakery here in Lincoln Square. I'm a fan of Vietnamese food in general, but until recently hadn't revisited their sandwich offerings, which are worthy. Growing up, my best friend lived near "Little Saigon" (I don't think anyone actually calls it that), a strip of Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants and groceries on Argyle Street. Her Chinese mother would often bring us intimidating, unfamiliar treats from these shops. One that always stood out in my mind was a Banh Mi, a Vietnamese sandwich of various meats, topped with carrots, daikon radish, cilantro, hot peppers and mayonnaise on french bread. One often finds pork belly or pork pate on these sandwiches. So, my first time eating one of these (10 years old?) was a mindfuck indeed. It contained familiar elements - french bread, mayo, carrots - and foreign elements, like all the other stuff. It tasted good but it also tasted really weird! The meat was heady and, to my young olfactory system, had a guttural or even garbage-y smell.

Jump to 2010. I start reading LTH Forum, the Chicago food-lovers' message board, with some regularity. Nhu Lan is a recipient of their "Great Neighborhood Restaurant" award for its delicious food and miser-friendly price point. And it's four blocks from my house. Working from home one day, I decide to revisit the Banh Mi that had perplexed me as a child. And I'm so glad I did. Though I am not brave enough to try the headcheese and ham combo (yet), the pork belly and pate hit the spot. It was a big, awesome sandwich, with just the right balance of salt, sweet and heat. And it's only $3.25! (cue swelling violins and birds gently tweeting)

Yesterday was another work from home day, which I think might now just be called Nhu Lan day. I went and got my sammich, but wanted to try another offering, so I grabbed a three-pack of (giant) spring rolls - one each of shrimp, pork and tofu, with a side of peanut sauce - even though I am rightly wary of such pre-packaged offerings. My fears were baseless this time. They were fresh and very, very tasty. I ate half of each spring roll in addition to my big awesome sandwich, then lolled around in a food haze for the rest of the afternoon. The spring rolls were $4.50, and I ate the rest of them for breakfast today, still as crisp and delicious as yesterday, with a cup of coffee (or half coffee-half soy milk, as coffee seems to make me extra dehydrated and jittery these days, boo hoo.)

I have a Nhu appreciation for Vietnamese food! And I would be remiss in not mentioning that Nhu Lan is steps away from the greatest grocery store in the history of the world, HarvesTime. The 2600 block of Lawrence Avenue brings shine to a street that, I have posited, is mostly crappy no matter which neighborhood through which it runs, bar a few great restaurants.

In other food-related events, a group of fine friends went to a local chain last night for my sister's birthday. The food was remarkable only in its expense ($10 for a side of sauteed spinach? I could make ten pounds of sauteed spinach for that price), but the drinks were flowing and, late in the meal, A. noticed that the table next to us had left half a bottle of white wine chilling within reach (when I say "had left," I mean that the party was long gone.) In his buzzed state he reached over and poured some into his own wine glass, in full view of about five bus boys and servers. A few minutes later an obsequious manager approaches him and says, "Excuse me sir, but I was told that this is not your wine," to which A. responded "Oh!" The manager grabbed the wine and asked if he needed any water - bit of a dick move. We were all stunned and highly amused. As one of the last tables in the dining room, one might think that we would have hightailed it out of embarrassment, but no! We stayed, ordered dessert, and talked loudly about the ridiculousness of the situation. Even though the staff looked like they wanted to murder us by the end of the night, a good time was had by all.

So... lazy...

My stars, has it really been over a month? So much has changed since Tuesday, May 11, 2010 at 9:42 a.m. I didn't realize it then, but that was the greatest time of my life (or not. Please, make it 'not.')

I must say that not too much cookin' has gone down in the intervening days. I was out of town almost every weekend in May and the first weekend in June, leaving me gasping for normalcy during the weeks. Apart from that, I seem to have fallen into a weekday austerity/weekend gluttony cycle that is best served by soups, sandwiches and salads (austere) and pizzas, Thai food and wings (gluttonous), which are, respectively, prepared with little fanfare or ordered out.

The things I did make, I photographed. Herewith, a collection of some things that I have made and consumed as of late:

Roasted vegetable sandwiches with mozzarella and balsamic dressing

"Mmmmm. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm... mmmm!" - Bob Wiley

The first time I made these I stupidly wasted time trying to 'grill' the vegetables on a indoor electric grill that probably couldn't melt a drinking straw. This time I fired up the old brain cells and decided to use the broiler. First, the red and yellow peppers get the de-skinning treatment: broil until skin is a good deal charred. Place peppers in tightly sealed zip-top bag for 15 minutes; the condensation will help the skin loosen and after that you should be able to peel it off easily. Lesson learned: err on the 'more broiling' side for the best chance of easy skin removal.

Had to re-broil these, sheesh.

You could use any sort of watery veg you want for this; I used red and yellow bell peppers, green zucchini and baby eggplant. Cut the zucchini and eggplant lengthwise, in slices about 1/2 inch thick. Lay them out on your broiler pan and give them 3-4 minutes a side, checking after the first go-around to make sure they're cooked to your liking. I like them quite limp. The sweet, watery taste of broiled zucchini is something special.

To assemble, I splashed a bit of balsamic vinegar on lightly toasted polish rye; layered a mix of vegetables and a couple of slices of fresh mozzarella on top. I microwaved this for about 30-45 seconds to melt the cheese. If you're fancier than me (I suspect most people aren't), you could stick it in a low oven for about 10 minutes, or even better, a toaster oven on 'melt this delicious cheese' setting!

I think I also threw some baby spinach on there for crunch. Arugula or any other flavorful green would work great.

In less successful attempts, I found myself with a surplus of grape tomatoes that were about to turn. Various people on Chowhound recommended making 'oven-dried tomatoes' - cut the GTs in half lengthwise, spread evenly on a cookie sheet, and cook in a low oven (200F) for at least two hours, until the tomatoes are wrinkly, but not burned.

I might have had the oven up too high, or just forgot about them (how could that have happened? The smell of slow-roasting tomatoes [and garlic, of which I also threw some in to roast - seize the opportunity to make roasted garlic, I say] filled the house and it was absolutely seductive) but about half the tomatoes turned out dry and brown. The ones that didn't were very, very tasty and I would recommend this to anyone who likes sun-dried tomatoes, has too many tomatoes, or enjoys intoxicating food smells.

Finally, my friends, I made a lasagna this past weekend. My go-to is my mom's pesto lasagna, but this was being made based on a special request - that request specifying MEAT lasagna - and so I took to the Internet in search of a meaty recipe. I settled on this Turkey Sausage-Spinach Lasagna with Spicy Tomato Sauce from Bon Appétit. It was quite good, though time-intensive, as it calls for making the sauce from scratch (a 90-minute process). I used regular beef/pork Italian sausage. The meat itself turned out dry, which was surprising as there was enough liquid in this lasagna to quench a powerful thirst - in fact, you don't even need to pre-boil the noodles - there's so much liquid they cook inside the lasagna! Maybe they hogged the tomato liquid and absorbed the sausage liquid as well - parasitic noodles. Ah well. Lasagna, like pizza, is never truly bad, only less good.


Is there a more glorious sight in this world than the browned edge of a lasagna?

Rainy Day Remedy

When your day looks off to a bad start, Poached Eggs on an English Muffin may provide a temporary boost. Ask your doctor about Poached Eggs on an English Muffin. Side effects may include brown tomatoes, spinach, and seeing how big of a bite you can take at once.

Seriously, these brown tomatoes are the business. Definitely the most flavorful you can find this time of year. This time of year being the time in early May when it's 45 degrees and raining.

Food on the Page

Of all the things I loved about the Carson McCullers biography The Lonely Hunter, one passage made me giggle, retch and realize that her whims and oddities inhabited the kitchen as much as they did her notoriously well-appointed bedrooms:

… to cap the night’s activities, a pregnant cat had slipped unbidden into the house and given birth to a half-dozen kittens downstairs. Undisturbed by the clutter in the house which greeted her, Carson volunteered that she would be very comfortable sharing the bed with the litter of kittens…

Ah, wait, this isn’t the place for my cat and clutter fancy. That actually comes right before the relevant part, which is this:

Carson suggested that they go out immediately and rent bicycles so that they might ride to the beach and stores. Soon they were cycling about the island shopping for food, liquor and flowers. Carson also bought flowered paper curtains for the windows, and red-and-white checkered oilcloth and candles for the table. “We’re going to eat fancy,” she said. If Carson had ever played the role of kitchen prima donna in the past, it was abandoned that night and for the duration of her stay. She cooked more during her month at Nantucket than she had cooked since the early days of her marriage. Among her culinary skills that summer were homemade mayonnaise, which she admitted was really her mother’s speciality, clam chowder, canned green pea soup enlivened with small chunks of wieners, and a unique dish which she labeled “spuds Carson,” made with creamed potatoes, ripe olives, minced onions and grated cheese.

Uff da! To be fair, if I were imbibing a few tumblers of whiskey per day, I might come up with something similarly misguided. In fact, I don’t need whiskey to get lost in the kitchen.

Another delightful bio of sorts, Patti Smith’s Just Kids, described a tasty little breakfast:

I rolled out of bed and noticed it was late. I raced through my morning ritual, going around the corner to the Moroccan bakery, grabbing a crusty roll, a sprig of fresh mint, and some anchovies. I came back and boiled water, stuffing the pot with mint. I poured olive oil in the open roll, rinsed the anchovies, and laid them inside, sprinkling in some cayenne pepper. I poured a glass of tea and thought better of wearing my shirt, knowing that I’d get olive oil on the front of it.

Turning the time machine way back, this passage from Don Quixote got my mouth watering:

“…But all of this in due course; look and see if you have anything to eat in those saddlebags, and then we shall go in search of a castle where we can stay the night and prepare the balm I told you of, because I swear before God that my ear is hurting a good deal.”
“I have here an onion, and a little cheese, and I don’t know how many crusts of bread,” said Sancho, “but these are not victuals suitable for a knight as valiant as your grace.”

Assuming there was crusty bread and cheese widely available, I think I might have been able to pull through in 16th century Spain, even if I had all the looks and none of the strength of Dulcinea of Toboso. Even the raw onion sounds good.

Raspberry Custard Cake

Here's a mind-bogglingly easy recipe for a delicious and bountiful cake, care of one of my favorite food bloggers, Liz over at Gastronomy Domine. I made it as a last-minute contribution to a weeknight dinner party - the trick custard lent me some baking credibility that I desperately needed.

Here's what you need:

1 box Duncan Hines yellow cake mix
3-4 cups raspberries, slightly macerated or chopped
1 cup white sugar
1 pint heavy whipping cream

Here's what you do:

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Prepare the cake according to directions and pour into a greased and floured 9x13 dish (glass or metal will do fine.) Evenly distribute the raspberries over the top; they should stay put on the surface of the cake batter. Sprinkle the raspberries with sugar. Slowly pour over this one pint of whipping cream, making sure to cover the entire surface. Bake for one hour, testing for doneness after 50 minutes using a skewer inserted into the center.

Now, what happens is that the raspberries and cream sink to the bottom while the cake is cooking, creating a wonderfully moist, custard-like consistency. I'd been considering making a Tres Leches cake, but due to lack of time and experience I thought better of it (I had about two hours between getting home from work and having to leave for the party.) As you can see, the preparation for this cake takes about five minutes.

The original recipe calls for four cups of raspberries, but I only used three, which seemed sufficient (though an extra cup of raspberry goodness would not have gone unappreciated.) Also, instead of fresh, I used frozen raspberries that were pre-sweetened, so I omitted the sugar, and I don't think the cake suffered at all for it. It was quite a hit, and I told anyone who would listen how easy it was. Cue the blank stares...

For those who cringe at using a boxed cake mix: feel free to make your own yellow cake from scratch. Liz's recipe called for Duncan Hines specifically, after which she waxed rhapsodic about it and told of leaving room in her suitcase to bring a few boxes home from her trips to the US. Baking is my weakest culinary skill by far, so I didn't want to tempt the inedible cake gods by trying to whip up my own on a whim.

Who can argue with this?

Florida Food

In chronological order:

Turkey sandwich on Italian bread with mayo, tomato and red onion;
Wavy chips;
Dill potato salad;
Lazy salad with arugula, roasted sweet potatoes, rotisserie chicken, goat cheese and honey mustard vinaigrette (this was a big hit, and in retrospect is not for the strictly lazy);
Garlic bread;
2 poached eggs, potatoes, turkey sausage, English muffin;
Tenderloin fillets with Bearnaise sauce, roasted asparagus, garlic roasted potatoes;
Strawberry-Rhubarb crumble with vanilla ice cream;
English muffin with peanut butter, honey and blackberries;
White cheddar popcorn;
Chicken salad (mayo, green grapes, pecans and tarragon) sandwich on Publix 'White Mountain Bread' (extraordinarily soft and malleable) with tomato;
More wavy chips;
Pan-fried grouper with lemon and homemade tartar sauce, leftover roasted potatoes, steamed French beans;
Diet coke and M&Ms;
Leftover Strawberry-Rhubarb crumble;
English muffin with peanut butter, honey and blackberries;
Spring rolls with vermicelli, shrimp, mint and carrots;
Wonton soup (or in my case, Wanton - hey-ooo!);
Bún with grilled curry chicken, pork egg rolls, vermicelli, cucumber, carrots, lettuce, bean sprouts and fish sauce;

To be continued. Now, I must attend to my sangria.

The dull tyranny of pasta and salad

Ah, my first prolonged silence. Faced with distractions like buying way too many new clothes that I don't need, intermittent balmy weather, and my cats engaged in Olympian vomiting efforts, it seems that I have abandoned the ol' blog for a few weeks now. If only I could come back with tales of crackling, delectable meats and sublime roasted vegetables... alas. I've only been able to muster the energy for pasta and, tonight, a salad, those friends of the uninspired cook.

The pasta dish is one that I've made a few times over the past couple of months, and very tasty it is, too. Leftovers for a few days and can be eaten cold without guilt (a major plus for me.) Here's the idea:

1/2 box spaghetti, linguine, or other 'long' variety - you could easily use penne or something like that if you so wish. I've been using De Cecco brand perciatelli, which is like a thick piece of spaghetti with a hollow middle. Fun?
1 small container Fage yogurt (I like the 2%)
Any greens, vegetables or meat you might like to add. I've added different mixes of spinach, chicken, arugula and parmesan with success. This is another good 'what's in the fridge?' dish. I can't think of very many ingredients that would be unwelcome here.

Cook pasta according to your tastes. When done, reserve 1/2 cup of cooking water and drain the rest.

In a serving bowl, empty the yogurt and add the reserved pasta water. Whisk with a fork until well incorporated. Add the pasta and toss to coat. Add other ingredients, if any, and serve.

Sometimes I like to throw a big dollop (~2 T) of sun-dried tomato paste to the yogurt mixture. That's good eatin'!

Tonight's salad features baby arugula (some pieces of which are not so baby, ahem, EARTHBOUND FARMS), roasted sweet potato cubes, goat cheese and some leftover rotisserie chicken, the beloved standby of my culinary fallow periods. Having whipped up the arugula/goat cheese/sweet potato combo before, I'm wagering on success, unless the chicken goes and fucks everything up. So bland a bird wouldn't dare.

In other food-related news, Dinero Fudge is currently whooping Pizza Ashby in the Name Of The Year's Dragonwagon Regional! Unbelievable!

The salad didn't taste as blurry as it looked.

Hoppin' John

My mother, a dear lady of Southern extraction, is a masterful cook who can make something palatable just by stirring it. This is her recipe for Hoppin' John, a dish of black-eyed peas and pork. It's traditional in the South to eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day if you want good luck for the rest of the year. I've never found this to hold true, but if you're a fan of rituals or the power of suggestion, by all means, indulge. This is good the other 364 days of the year, too!

You will need:

16 oz. black-eyed peas (I use frozen; if using dry, have beans soaked and picked over before starting this dish. Avoid canned.)
2 ham hocks, or 1 smoked pork butt
2 shallots or 1/2 small onion, chopped (optional)
bay leaf

In a medium stock pot, cover the ham hocks or smoked butt with water, drop in the bay leaf and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook 1-1 1/2 hours. The cooking time can be completely dependent on your schedule, mood and whims if you're using ham hocks - they are quite indestructible. If using smoked butt, cook until meat is tender and easy to pull apart.

Remove the meat from the water, and skim fat from the top with a large spoon.

mmm, hocks

Bring water back to a simmer and drop in the beans and chopped onion/shallots, if using. If you're using frozen beans, they should be done in about 30 minutes. If you're using soaked dry beans, finish cooking according to directions on package.

While the beans are cooking, chop up the meat. I had bad luck with the ham hocks this time around - couldn't get a scrap off them. It later came to be known, via mom the cook, that I was doing it wrong. Oh well! I sometimes prefer it without the actual meat, as ham is a smidge too salty for my liking. This dish is good with or without - having the beans cook in the pork broth gives it plenty of flavor.

When beans are done, reserve about 2 cups of the broth and drain the rest. Mix meat (or not) with the beans and reserved broth.

Serve over white rice, topped with chopped tomatoes and scallions, shredded cheddar cheese, and as much Louisiana hot sauce as you please. If you are a reasonable person, you might also want some jalapeno corn bread as an accompaniment (1 pkg. Jiffy + 1 large jalapeno, minced + 1/4 cup shredded cheddar.)

Roasted Butternut Squash and Sweet Potatoes

On the not-wasting-produce tip, I smile smugly to myself when I buy things like potatoes and squash, knowing that I can let them languish in the produce bowl twice as long without consequence. I am the queen of big plans with little follow-through, so basically, these items give me ample time to convince/guilt myself into cooking instead of eating toast with marmalade or baby carrots for dinner (these work in a pinch, but ultimately give me a sense of wasted potential).

I work from home during the evenings, and when I'm not too busy I like to put something together that is short on prep work and long on oven-cooking so I can ignore it. This side (or main, if you're a big fan of the veg in question) takes about 10 minutes to prepare and 45 minutes to roast. It is absolutely delicious.

There are some variations which I will explain below, but here's the general idea:

Roasted Butternut Squash and Sweet Potatoes

1 medium-large size butternut squash, peeled and cut into large cubes (~1.5 inch a side)
1 large or 2 smaller sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into medium cubes (~1 inch a side)
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1-2 shallots, halved lengthwise with layers separated
Olive oil (2-3 T does the trick)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat oven to 375F.

In a 9x13 baking dish, toss all ingredients until well mingled. Shake dish to distribute in an even layer. Place in oven, tossing with a spatula every 15 minutes to discourage sticking and burning. Check for doneness after 45 minutes; cook an additional 10-15 minutes if necessary.

Variations: When I started making this, I would cut 2 T of butter into strips and distribute it throughout the dish before baking. This is both rich and delicious, but omitting the butter still yields successful results. The butternut squash itself is quite creamy and rich-tasting, so only use butter if you're feeling particularly decadent.

The shallot: this was the first time I'd used a shallot, and it was a welcome addition. Roughly chopped red onion would probably be good too.

I ate a small serving of this the night of, and the next day ate the leftovers for dinner with a big glass of white wine. I didn't heat them up, which I think makes them "chilled hors d'oeuvres."

No chili left behind

On New Year's Day 2009, I resolved to be more mindful of wasting produce. The maxim has met with mixed success, but in general I try to have a recipe in mind when I head to the store. However, my local grocery has their fruits and vegetables displayed so alluringly, it's often hard to keep myself from loading up on more rapini, cucumbers, cilantro, etc. than I will ever be able to use in their lifespans.

A dish that can help ease elderly vegetables to their final resting place is, of course, the stir-fry. I was proud of myself this week when I whipped one up using kale (I bought too much last weekend), green beans (there are usually some languishing in the crisper), some scallions that were looking quite sad until I peeled off their outer layers, and tofu (there was a vegetarian in our midst).

My wok is also rather sad, and is unable to both support the volume of a stir-fry and thoroughly cook its components at the same time. So everything got cooked separately and thrown together for a few minutes at the end. I dry-fried the tofu in squares, just enough to brown it on the outside - no oil or cooking spray of any kind, just throw those happy little bean curd slices in a dry, hot skillet over medium heat, turning every 5-7 minutes until desired crust is achieved. The kale and green beans were blanched in salted, simmering water for five minutes. I heated about 1 T of canola oil in the skillet, adding the sliced green onion and two minced cloves of garlic. When those were cooked to my satisfaction, the rest of the ingredients were added, along with a generous glug of mushroom soy sauce (a thicker variety, more conducive to sauces), pre-minced garlic and ginger mix (was going to grate real ginger root, until I discovered the section in the fridge had shuffled off this mortal coil), Sriracha and red pepper flakes. I tossed until it was all warmed through and then I ate it.

In a second triumph for not wasting produce, for dessert I made myself a dish of the unserved vanilla ice cream and fruit mix from the dinner party. With a tiny cup of coffee and milk, it tasted much better than on Saturday, the fruit perhaps having advanced a bit in the ripening and melding-flavors processes. Plus, coffee with dessert makes things twice as good, always, even though I slept horribly that night. When I informed my boyfriend of said triumph, he replied "that fruit is probably rotten by now."

Me 1, Potential Disasters 0

Dinner Party went off without a hitch. I had four guests, one of whom was called to work about half an hour before the start of the party. Thankfully she was able to TCB and rejoin the gang in time for the festivities.

The pork recipe proved to be quite time-consuming indeed. Even reading through it a few times didn't prepare me for the task of de-membraning three grapefruit - which I did in front of the television - but it all came together quite well. I think adrenaline got me through the last half hour. People were here, I was still trying to get my shit together, I almost burned the fries, the table wasn't set. So, yes, adrenaline and a few successes. The pork came out of the oven perfectly, though it took about half an hour longer to get to 165F than the recipe stated. Earlier in the day I'd bought an instant-read digital thermometer, so as not to poison my guests with rare pork. My old dial thermometer wasn't cutting it anymore. I rarely have 10 minutes to watch it crawl to the accurate reading.

What else? I made a salad that's proven a hit with this crowd before. I think the most notable thing about this meal for me was the widespread lack of garlic in the dishes. My food is usually drowning in the stuff, much to the chagrin of my dear devoted boyfriend and kissing partner. There were three crushed cloves in the roasting pan, which were strained out before serving. I would have put some in the kale, but I didn't even have an opportunity to mince any thanks to my time-management skills, or lack thereof.

For dessert, I'd considered buying a wee cake from this delicious bakery down the street, but at the last minute decided on fruit with vanilla ice cream. I chopped up mangoes (Manilla Mangoes, to be specific, which apart from their small size didn't seem much different from standard mangoes), plums and papaya. All this is irrelevant: the wine was a-flowin', and dessert was forgotten. I had a small dish after the déluge had passed, and was happy that I'd skipped serving it. Once a year or so I taste papaya and am mostly repulsed, yet I keep on with it hoping that my palate will change. Frankly, I think it is the durian of the West.

Forthwith, the kale and salad recipes that helped me win this round of Katie vs. Dinner. The salad dressing is c/o Tyler Florence.

Braised Kale

2 bunches kale, de-veined, chopped and washed
1 1/2-2 cups chicken broth
1 small or 1/2 large red onion, chopped
1 large cl. garlic, minced*
Crushed red pepper flakes

In a stockpot, bring the chicken broth and onions to a boil. Turn down to a simmer, add the kale and cover, steaming for 10-12 minutes or until kale is limp, but not mushy. Add more chicken broth as needed. Remove from heat, add red pepper flakes, toss and serve. Makes six generous helpings.

*Like I said, no garlic in this past iteration, but I usually use it.

Arugula Salad with Honey Mustard Vinaigrette

For the salad:

5-6 oz. arugula
1 Bartlett pear, cored and thinly sliced (it's better if the pear is slightly less-than-ripe)
1 brie triangle (choose a harder kind, or keep in fridge until ready to use), cut into bite-size pieces
3/4 cup chopped walnuts or sliced almonds

For the dressing:

1 shallot, finely minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon honey
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Mix dressing ingredients in a food processor until finely blended. Add to salad, toss and serve.

For the dressing, I sometimes substitute a large clove of garlic for the shallot. The shallot gives the whole salad a very onion-y flavor. It tastes great, but is very strong and tends to overwhelm the other ingredients. Substituting a single garlic clove actually ends up being mellower in this instance.

Sweet Potato Oven Fries*

*more like fat, squishy matchsticks, but let's stick with our socially normed terminology here.

Last time I made sweet potato oven fries, I followed a recipe from "In The Kitchen With Rosie" by Rosie Daley, Oprah's one-time personal chef. The book appeared at the crest of yet another of Oprah's health kicks, and so the recipes call for lots of hot sauce and bread crumbs and low-fat yogurt to help create a simulacra of delicious fried and flavorful goodies. The oven fries called for an egg white coating and an eyebrow-raising amount of cajun seasoning. What I ended up with were fries that were half burned, half just-cooked, with crusty chords of egg white and the bold saltiness of the cajun flavoring taking center stage. Ew.

In preparation for Dinner Party, I scoured message boards and ad-laden recipe sites for a better approach to sweet potato oven fries. Had I a Fry Daddy, things would be different, but seeing as I've already set my oven on fire once, a cauldron of boiling oil is not high on the list of things I want in my kitchen. Moving on...

The primary complaint about oven fries, the sweet kind in particular, is that they don't get crispy enough. They come out soggy or charred; there's no in-between. I read many suggestions, some that would not work for me (no convection oven here, you see), and ultimately tried an amalgam of steps from different recipes that I thought would yield a tasty, if not crisp, oven fry.

Sweet Potato Oven Fries

2 medium-large sweet potatoes
olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
cayenne pepper
brown sugar

Preheat oven to 425F.

Cut the potatoes in half, width-wise, then halve each half. Cut each of the subsequent quarters into 3-4 thick strips, about an inch wide and 3 inches long.

In an aluminum or glass bowl, soak the potato sticks in cold water for 20 min. This will help release some of the starch, giving you a better chance for a toothsome fry.

After soaking, dry potatoes with paper towels; rinse and dry the bowl you soaked them in. In the bowl, toss the dried potatoes, olive oil, salt, pepper and cayenne. I've left out measurements here because this is easy to eyeball, and the amounts are dependent on personal preference. I put in 8 enthusiastic shakes of cayenne and they had a good, but not overwhelming, heat.

Choose a jelly roll pan or cookie sheet that will allow you to spread the fries out with enough room so that none touch each other. Cover the pan with parchment paper, then spread potatoes over the paper. Cook on the middle rack of the oven for 15-20 min, keeping an eye out so they don't get too browned (temp might need to be a little lower if your oven runs hot; these fries are precarious.) After 15 min, turn or toss fries to encourage even cooking, and return to oven for 10 more minutes.

After 10 minutes, remove the fries from the oven and toss with brown sugar - not enough to coat them completely - maybe 2-3 flat tablespoons. Return to oven for 3-5 min. The sugar will caramelize, leaving nice sweet crunchy bits in strategic areas. Remove from oven and serve warm.

**

The interplay of sweet and spicy was a real treat. A thinner fry would have crisped up better, of course, but sweet potatoes' squishiness is part of their charm, no?

A Dinner Dilemma

This coming Saturday, I've promised to cook a birthday dinner for a friend. Her only request was that I incorporate kale. After that dish, I'm a bit lost. She and her husband, and me and my boyfriend, have been on "diets" lately (I use the term loosely) -- we are all happy imbibers, but winter in Chicago tends to turn your average bon vivant into a gros bon vivant, and come March, action must be taken.

I considered a few reasonable dishes (roast chicken, oven fried chicken, chicken with pollo, etc.) Being mindful of my butter and oil intake is bearable for the everyday meal, but for a special occasion, I feel fine casting aside the diet mindset. A loin of pork signaled me from the freezer, and I answered the call of duty.

Recently, in a fit of nostalgia, I bought the entire 1992 run of Gourmet magazine on eBay. This was right before the magazine's demise, so that compelled my purchase as well. Largely the recipes are trendy by 1992 standards - modern Italian seems to have been culinary king then - or would leave me with heaps of leftovers to conquer by myself, thanks to my partner's selective tastes. But a few in each issue are both appetizing and just challenging enough to attempt. Thanks to the April 1992 issue, this weekend I shall endeavor to make...

Roast Pork Loin with Grapefruit

**Edit: My blog got "removed" the other day without explanation, and I have an inkling it might have something to do with posting a recipe from Gourmet while it's available on Epicurious. So, to avoid any further disruption, I'll just link to the recipe here and trust my gentle reader to click through.

I'm planning on serving this with the aforementioned braised kale and sweet potato oven fries. The correct method for preparing sweet potato oven fries seems to be the foundation of a lively internet debate; I'm going to experiment with a couple tonight and see what's what.

Ahem

I have false-started many blogs before, but never one so focused on a single endeavor. After toying with the idea of a food blog for a few months, today seemed the opportune time to give it a go. I proclaim no exceptional proficiency in the kitchen; I'm only a lady who loves to cook and be cooked for, and certainly one who loves to eat, almost anything. I skew towards the garlicky, the eggy, the salty and the citrus-kissed, but there's room inside for a bit of everything. Scratch that: no water chestnuts or raisins shall cross my lips if I have anything to do with it.

Thanks for reading.