Beet It!

I love vegetables that taste like dirt. Mushrooms, spinach, carrots... all dirty-tasting veg in their own special ways, and I love em. But the topper has to be beets. I freaking love beets. (Qualifier: I love beets that are roasted. You can keep the sickly pickled beets out of a can that somehow found their way to the top of every green salad served in the 70s and tainted my love of beets until I grew up and wised up. Gag. As Oprah always says, "When you know better, you do better" - I know better and roast my beets these days. I'm catching up for nearly four decades of beet deprivation. But I digress.)

So when my mom was in town recently, we found some gorgeous beets at the last St. Helena Farmer's Market of the season. We decided to try and recreate a dish that we'd shared together when mom treated me to dinner at Pago in Salt Lake City that made me swoon: Cinnamon Beets.
Since the dish is no longer on their menu anymore (bastards!) we were recreating from memory. Luckily, it was pretty straightforward: roasted beets on a bed of simply-dressed arugula (lightly coated with EVOO) and served with a dollop of Greek yogurt. The twist was that the beets were topped with a generous sprinkling of a cinnamon/walnut crunch concoction that resembled the texture of a finely-ground cinnamon lollipop combined with finely chopped walnuts - it was the consistency of sand.

I will admit I was skeptical at the time: cinnamon and beets? Such an earthy (dirty) main ingredient paired up with basically cinnamon candy? Oh Lordy - am I ever glad I gave it a try (and you should too!) because the combination of flavors is dynamite. Damn you beets with cinnamon - I can't quit you!

Thank goodness my mom was around to help me with the candy part of the recipe. I would have had to search online (or more likely knowing me, wing it!) for a hard candy recipe that I could tweak to get maximum cinnamon flavor. But dear old mom basically had a hard candy recipe in her head. How handy is that?! So, we gave it a go, and the results couldn't have been any better. Her candy recipe is below. (Note: it makes LOADS of the stuff - I won't have to make it again for years - so you could probably cut it in half and still have extra to go around.) The rest of the dish is basically as I described above. If you don't know how to roast beets, I'm afraid you're on your own. (Just kidding! Check here.)

But seriously give it a try. So freaking good. Thanks Pago.

Cinnamon Hard Candy

• 1 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup water
• 1/2 cube butter (1/4 cup)
• 1 Tablespoon corn syrup
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon oil

Combine all ingredients except for the cinnamon oil in a saucepan; stir over medium heat until all ingredients are melted into a syrup and come to a rolling boil. Reduce heat and continue to cook at a slow boil until the mixture has reached the hard-crack stage*. Once at hard-crack stage, add the cinnamon oil and stir well. Pour the candy syrup into a flat, greased cookie sheet and spread it out until it is very thin (be careful - it will be molten hot!!). Cool thoroughly.

Once cool, pop the candy from the pan (you may need a knife to break it up into large shards), and crush it by using a meat tenderizer or other heavy object! (Place it under a sheet of plastic wrap and pound away until it is crushed to the consistency of sand). Combine with an equal amount of finely-chopped walnuts for the beet topping.

*Not familiar with candy-making (what the heck is hard-crack stage??)? Here's a quick primer thanks to The Science of Cooking:

As a sugar syrup is cooked, water boils away, the sugar concentration increases, and the temperature rises. The highest temperature that the sugar syrup reaches tells you what the syrup will be like when it cools.

Hard-Crack Stage
300° F–310° F

The hard-crack stage is the highest temperature you are likely to see specified in a candy recipe. At these temperatures, there is almost no water left in the syrup. Drop a little of the molten syrup in cold water and it will form hard, brittle threads that break when bent. CAUTION: To avoid burns, allow the syrup to cool in the cold water for a few moments before touching it!

All in Favor of Fennel Say "Aye"

Aye! See those roasted veggies up there? That's fennel and cauliflower, roasted in anticipation of making a soup. I had visions of an earthy, silky, smooth soup, inspired by the rainy days we've been having. But you know what? These veggies never made it into a soup. They smelled SO good when I pulled them from the oven, that I pretty much ate them for lunch right there on the spot. The fennel was the real culprit - I was defenseless. My soup never even had a chance. If you think you're not a fan of fennel, try roasting it with a little bit of olive oil and kosher salt (high heat - 400 degrees - until it's caramelized). The licorice flavor and aroma of the raw bulb melt away, leaving a savory, rich morsel of goodness. So that's pretty much all I have to say - just try it. And next time, if I can avoid the temptation, I'll work on bringing you a soup recipe. But I wouldn't count on it...

Blossoming in the Kitchen

So I'm at the farmer's market with one of my bestest foodie friends, Glenn. It was pretty amazing how we both honed in on a basket brimming with squash blossoms at precisely the same time. Between the two of us, we bought out the farmer's stash for the day, before the market had officially even opened (we're no dummies - we were there 15 minutes before the official opening time, cash in hand).

Of course we got to talking how we were going to prepare our little treasures, and of course the fall-back way is to stuff them with some cheesy gooeyness, batter and fry them. Glenn was going to do just that, but as good as that sounds (and is!) - I told Glenn that I was going to challenge myself to come up with a lighter version of the dish that was every bit as delicious.

Mission accomplished - and it was altogether a much easier, quicker dish to prepare than the fried version. Here's what I did:

• I still wanted a creamy, soft inside, so I went with a fat-free ricotta.
  
• To the ricotta, I added some fresh chopped herbs (basil, oregano), some roasted and chopped garlic, and some chopped up sundried tomatoes that I had packed in olive oil.
  
• I scooped a generous tablespoon of the mixture into the blossoms, and twisted the open end to hold it all together.
  
• I dunked each blossom in an egg white bath (I added a tablespoon of water for every two egg whites and whisked until frothy)
• Rolled the stuffed/dunked blossoms in panko bread crumbs
• Baked at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes (turning once) until they were browned and the filling was warmed through

How about that, huh? Totally my new go-to method of making squash blossoms. Eat your heart out, Glenn!

Spanish Roulette Anyone? It's Padrone Season!

You know what's really great about late summer? Besides warm weather, long days and any excuse for a backyard barbecue? Padrone peppers. Or if your Spanish, pimientos de Padrón. When these little nuggets of deliciousness start showing up at the farmer's market, I grab them up like there's no tomorrow. Because literally, tomorrow they won't be there. They're always gone way too soon.

The deal with Padrones, or their cousins, the Shishito peppers (both from the capsicum annuum family; one popular in Spanish cuisine, the other in Japanese), is that they are so freaking simple to prepare and if you're like me, you literally can't stop eating them. Healthy, quick, delicious - what's not to like? Both peppers are very mild in flavor, but the Padrones have a hidden kick. As the title of this post suggests, eating them is called playing "Spanish Roulette," since about one in ten of the peppers has some heat to it (this according to my farmer dude). When that kick of heat shows up though, I love it! It's not even as hot as a jalapeno, so it's not like it will sear the taste buds off your tongue. Nope - just a welcome flame of warmth to liven things up a bit. If you're not a gambler, however, stick to the Shishitos - no heat there at all.

(The Padrones are short and squat - pictured above. The Shishitos are long and skinny - pictured below.)


Preparing them is a piece of cake: Place the peppers and a drizzle of good olive oil in a nice big frying pan, and simply saute them on high heat them until they're blistered. Sprinkle with a generous dose of kosher salt, and snacking heaven awaits.

Summer On a Plate: Grilled Veggie Salad

You want quick, easy and healthy? This one's for you! I had a dozen or so beautiful little summer squash on my hands, thanks to my bi-weekly CSA delivery, and knew that unless I used them up in one fell swoop, a few might not make it. So to the grill I went, and charred them until they were blistered and just this side of al dente (that would be the toothsome side - not the mushy side). They were joined on said grill by some asparagus as well, and if I'd had had other goodies to toss on there (peppers, eggplant) - I woulda done them too. I didn't dress them up for grilling with anything but a light coating of olive oil, since I knew that their destiny was in this salad which gets beaucoup flavor from a simple dressing and fresh herbs.

Once grilled, I left the squash and asparagus in the fridge to chill, went about my day, and assembled the salad in about five minutes before serving. The chopped up grilled veg went into a big bowl with some stunning diced tomatoes (also from the CSA), a sprinkling of feta cheese, and a whole snarl of chopped basil. By a snarl, I mean a lot (I love fresh basil!). Separately, I mixed up a quick lemon vinaigrette (1 clove crushed garlic, the juice of one lemon, ample kosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper)- poured, tossed, and voila. Instant summer veggie heaven.

It was so good that I'm not dreading the onslaught of squash I'm bound to get delivered in the coming weeks as farms find themselves with the inevitable bounty. To that I say bring it on, CSA. Bring it on.

Heating Up for Summer: Gratin of Greens

This is not exactly a summer dish. But then again, summer hasn't quite yet found its way to Northern California ... yet (there are signs, yes, there are signs!). But the cool temperatures have somehow not impacted people's gardens too much, as witnessed by the huge shopping bag full of greens deposited on my desk last week by my friend Aerial. (Thank you Aerial!)

I love me some greens, simply sauteed and maybe spinkled with a dash of vinegar, but due to some various and sundry personal issues that cropped up last week, I was in the mood for comfort food. Something warm and homey. So I whipped up this gratin, and loaded it with what I just knew would taste great on a cool summer night: bacon, cheese, toasted breadcrumbs. Oh yeah. So I veered from my usual healthy fare and gave in to my heart. Sometimes you just have to do it. (Honestly - it's not that bad... everything in the recipe is used in moderation. Omit the bacon and even the breadcrumbs and it would still be every bit as good.)

At any rate, it is quite delicious, and an excellent way to turn a mountain of greens into a manageable dish. Courtesy of Aerial, my greens of choice were Swiss chard and kale, but really, any greens will do. You just needs LOTS of them. So if you're with me here in the not-quite-hot Bay Area, give this recipe a try now; for those of you in other parts of the country where the weather is sweltering, well... tuck it away for a cold Winter's night. (Note: I served the gratin scooped over some creamy soft polenta and it was divine!)

Gratin of Greens (adapted from a Whole Foods Market recipe)

• 4 strips of bacon, chopped
  
• 8 cups chopped, packed greens (stems removed) - kale, swiss chard, mustard greens, etc.
• 
1 cup water 

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil 

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 
1 cup nonfat milk 

• 2 tablespoons flour
• 
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper 

• 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided 

• 1 tablespoon whole wheat bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large saute pan, cook bacon to desired crispness (go crispy!); place on paper towels to drain excess grease. Reserve drippings. Add the chopped greens to the bacon drippings and cook over medium heat until leaves are just tender, 3 to 4 minutes, Adding water as needed for moisture. Drain and set greens aside. In the same saucepan, heat olive oil and butter over medium heat. When butter has melted, whisk in the flour until blended. Whisk constantly for 1 minute. Slowly whisk in the milk. Continue cooking and stirring until the sauce thickens, 3 to 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and stir in half of the grated cheese. Stir in the cooked chard and bacon, then transfer to an oiled 9x9-inch baking dish. Sprinkle with remaining cheese and breadcrumbs. Bake for 20 minutes or until hot and bubbling.

Fava Saga

"Bag o favas in office frig" read the text from my friend Kristin, an invitation to help myself to the fava beans she had been shelling for days on end. Kristin was in the midst of a fava saga - she had inherited something like a 10-gallon trash bag full of the beans in their thick, puffy pods (about 20 pounds) as a result of another friend's garden generosity. Now if you know favas... they are a lot of work for very little return, to put it mildly. Not only do you have to free the beans from their outer pod, they have an inner pod as well that requires parboiling in order to remove. It's labor intensive, and Kristin, having socked away more than ten cups of the doubly-shelled beans in her freezer, was done. The remainder of her favas had to find a home, so naturally I jumped at them. I love me some favas.

So I strolled down to the office frig, and picked up what I can only describe as the largest assembly of fava beans I'd ever seen in my life outside of the farmers market - a mini trash bag, if you will, full of the green nuggets. It was like striking gold, especially since Kristin had done all of the round-one shelling. But my work was still cut out for me. I spent hours and hours and hours that evening parboiling and shelling my little heart out, and came away the proud owner of about six cups of my own finished product. Most went into the freezer, but what goes around comes around: I happened to be heading to a dinner party at Kristin's house the very next day... my contribution? A salad featuring fava beans, of course!

Now the salad came about in an interesting way as well. The week prior to receiving my fava bounty, my friend Carolyn had forwarded me a link to a Martha Stewart recipe for an asparagus, artichoke and fava bean salad. "This looks like something right up your alley," read her email. And of course it was.

But you know me: recipes are usually only sources of inspiration; rarely do I follow them to a T. This one was no exception. There were a couple of steps in there that I just wasn't going to do: paring down artichokes to their tender hearts from scratch - which I find to be a waste, since if I'm going to buy whole artichokes, I'm eating whole artichokes; and simmering white asparagus in a milk concoction for 45 minutes until tender - seriously? Blanching regular old green asparagus for about a minute in boiling water works beautifully for me. So, my version used canned and drained artichoke hearts, and quickly blanched asparagus. I shaved off a good couple hours of prep time. In addition, Martha's version would make for a beautifully composed, plated dish... but that isn't exactly ideal for a potluck gathering. So in my version, I tossed all of the ingredients together with some spring greens in order for it to be easily doled out from a big salad bowl.

I even tweaked the dressing - possibly the best part of this salad and what made it so yummy. Martha's version was good... but it was pale in color. I realized I wanted something green - everything in the salad was basically a shade of green, so I went monochromatic, and bumped up the flavor in a subtly different way. So, if you're aching to get some green onto your plate (literally), give this a try. Below is Martha's recipe for the salad with my adjustments noted (visit her website for her complete version).

For the Dressing

• 1/3 cup low-fat buttermilk
• 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 scallion, green part only (I used 4 scallions and a hefty handful of chives - that made for the green color of my dressing)
• 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
• 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
• 1/4 teaspoon coarse salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper (I added way more)
  

Puree all the ingredients in a food processor until smooth.

For the Salad (my version)

• 2 14-ounce cans of artichoke hearts, drained and quartered
• 1 pound green asparagus, cut into 2-inch pieces
• 1 cup fresh fava bean pods, doubly shelled
• 1/2 cup fresh mint, chopped
  
• 4-5 cups fresh spring greens
• 1/2-3/4 cup feta cheese, crumbled

Combine all salad ingredients, toss with dressing and serve.

Thinking Inside the Box

I finally did it. I joined a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) delivery service. I've been hemming and hawing for years now about joining one, but finally pulled the trigger when some good friends of mine raved about their CSA (and now mine), Farm Fresh to You. It seems like a perfect fit - customizable fruit/veggie options so I don't wind up with items I'd never use; home delivery on a predetermined schedule (for now, I'm going with every other week); a wide variety of organic fruits, vegetables and herbs year round. And did I mention, they bring it right to my door? Love it. I got my first box a couple days ago, and couldn't be more pleased. In fact, most of it's already gone... so good.

Hashing it Out with Spaghetti Squash

I love spaghetti squash with all my heart, don't you? I seriously can tuck into a huge bowl of spaghetti squash - sprinkling of olive oil, dash of salt & peppa - and call it dinner. Of course I love it all dressed up with marinara or pesto or alfredo sauce as well - all of those tricks intended to show off its pasta imitating abilities. My latest love, however, is spaghetti squash hash browns. Never had them? Well let me introduce you to your next favorite weekend brunch item, people!

It couldn't be more simple:

• Nuke the spaghetti squash until it's soft - about 1 minute per pound. Microwaving spaghetti squash is really the easiest and quickest way to prepare it - what's easier than pushing a button and walking away? Make sure to pierce the squash with a knife kind of all over to allow vents for the steam to escape, but other than that, just throw the whole thing in and let it do its thing.
• Once it's cooked, slice the squash in half lengthwise and pull the strands out with a fork. Give the whole squash some time to cool before cutting into it - and even so, be aware that the inside will be scorching hot and steam will burst forth. Don't get burned, in other words.
• Spread a pile of the squash into a skillet or atop a griddle that has been heated with olive oil (or butter - your fat of choice), and fry it up just as you would hash browns. Just as with regular old potato hash browns, a thin layer is best so you can get them evenly browned. Crisp them up to your preference, using a little extra oil if necessary.
• Making them as plain as the day is long is fantastic - just sprinkle with salt and pepper. Or, do a loaded version (sorta like in the photo above): chopped scallion and Parmesan cheese being my go-to ingredients.

And there you have it. Yumm-o breakfast goodie that's oh-so-good for you. Mangia!

Snack Attack! Spicy Baked Chick Peas

Boy, it's Sunday night, and I actually felt like I had a weekend. A bona fide weekend with a couple of days off in a row and no obligations. And a great weekend it was! I got to celebrate my big 4-0 (again!) with a delightful dinner at Bouchon in Yountville, a treat by my bestest gal pal, Carolyn (she spoils me rotten....), revel as the Giants took Game 1 in the National League Conference Series, enjoy lazy mornings where I got to sleep late and read the paper in bed, and - joy of joys - actually spend time in the kitchen.

This morning arrived with a gray drizzle. Perfect. The first rain of the year coincided with my lazy attitude, so it completely confirmed my homebody status. Since the sun wasn't shining, I had no guilt that I wasn't out hiking, walking the dog, exploring or otherwise soaking in a spectacular Autumn day. Nope - we lit a fire in the fireplace and basically hunkered down, Ran in front of the various sporting match-ups that dominate the Sunday television lineup, and me puttering in the kitchen with ideas aplenty on how to stock my larder for the coming week (stock my larder? Who says that?).

At any rate, my oven was on all afternoon, and the stovetop hardly saw an idle moment. I'll probably blog later in the week about many of the things I made today (stay tuned!), but first and foremost on the list was taking care of snack food for the afternoon. I mean, what is watching sports all day without snacks? And since I've outlawed packaged snack food in my house, I needed to come up with something on my own. Chick peas to the rescue.

The humble chick pea. Garbanzo bean if you'd like. I love the little buggers. I eat them in some form nearly every day of the week (seriously - hummus is a staple of my diet). I've written about roasting raw chick peas in the husk on the BBQ grill (one of my all-time fave snacks) - but you just can't count on walking into a store and finding raw, in-the-husk garbanzo beans. It rarely happens. But you know what? You can find pre-cooked garbanzos in a can anywhere, anytime, and with the addition of just a couple spices and a preheated oven, healthy snack time is less than an hour away.

Imagine: crunchy, spicy garbanzo beans that you can Hoover up all you'd like because they're low-cal, no carb, and full of fiber and protein. These baked chick peas rate right up there with kale chips as being one of my favorite go-to healthy snack options.

Preparation couldn't be simpler:

• Open a can of garbanzo beans, rinse and drain. (Although seriously, one can's worth will vanish in a heartbeat. Bust open a couple. Trust me.)
• Pat dry with paper towels.
• In a mixing bowl, toss the garbanzos with a glug of olive oil. Not too much - just enough to coat. I use one of my favoritist olive oils of all time from The Smoked Olive - their chili pepper smoked olive oil. Sheer Heaven. If you don't know about The Smoked Olive - learn now! (I wrote about it here more than a year ago. My love has not waned.)
• Season. Just plain Kosher salt will do the trick, but if you want to make the spicy version I like, also add a heavy dusting of paprika (smoked paprika being my choice), some garlic powder, and a couple of shots of your favorite hot chili sauce or Tabasco. Stir to coat well. Taste them - if you like how they taste before going in the oven, you'll like the finished product times ten.
• Pour the seasoned garbanzos onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, and pop into a preheated 350-degree oven for 45 minutes.

When you pull them from the oven and let them cool just a bit, they get crunchy. And addictive. Voila - perfect snack food for a couch potato marathon. Speaking of... Giants are on (and losing....). Later peeps!

All Hail the Kale, Part 1: Kale Chips

I freaking love kale. Love it. Maybe you've noticed. I've written about it here. And here. But you know how I love it the very very best? Baked into crispy chips. That's right - kale chips. If you read as many food blogs as I do, you know that recipes and accolades for kale chips are ubiquitous. Everybody - yes everybody - raves.

Talk about the simplest, tastiest, healthiest snack on the planet. I literally make midnight runs to the grocery to pick up kale when the craving for kale chips sets in (alas, I don't grow it in my little garden). Made a big batch tonight because of that very urge. They really do make you feel as though you're eating junk food (salty! crispy!) when that couldn't be farther from the truth. Low-calorie and chock full of iron, fiber, antioxidants, beta carotene, and vitamin K, it's a downright power veggie. Bring it on.

So to make kale chips:

• wash
• dry
• break the leaves off of the thick stems in bite-size chunks
• toss with a drizzle of olive oil
• season with kosher salt (or any flavored salt/seasoning that you like)
• bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for about 12 minutes, or until the edges start to turn brown.

Once you remove them from the oven and let them cool just a bit, if they've been cooked perfectly, the delicate chips will simply shatter in your mouth with an explosion of flavor, and the bitterness of the green will have vanished. Test the times in your oven - I find that 12 minutes is *perfect* in mine.

OMG - is my batch finished yet???

All Hail the Kale, Part 2: Obsessed

Somebody stop me...
I can't stop photographing this flowering kale.

The Call of the Cauliflower, Part 1: Roasted Florets

Ok all you haters out there - prepare to open your minds. I want no pre-conceived notions, no "I don't like it" click-throughs, no stink-face, simply because we're talking about cauliflower here. Ima make a believer out of you. If you just trust me as the cauliflower champion that I am, you will walk away from reading these next couple of blog posts not only wanting to give cauliflower a chance, but actually learning to LOVE it. Yes, I said love. (You - the group over there in the corner? The cauliflower nerds who love it just as much as I? Chime in any time.... let's form an advocacy group!)

Ah, cauliflower. Such a maligned vegetable, for absolutely no good reason. I happen to love it raw and crunchy, plain as the day is long. Or steamed, with a little pat of butter and a sprinkling of salt. But since those are both the primary ways people are accustomed to seeing cauliflower served, they are also the preparations folks have learned to hate. So I'll just pass them right on by and not even try and persuade you.

The next logical option would be to espouse the virtues of baked cauliflower drenched in cream and cheese, such as a decadent gratin. But I won't go there either, because even though I love a cheesy dish probably more than anyone, I'm avoiding the calorie-laden, heavy, hearty, artery-clogging dishes that decimate all health benefits of eating cauliflower in the first place.

The fact is, there are so many more exciting and innovative ways to use cauliflower that are fresh, flavorful and healthy, that it's criminal to dismiss it just out of hand. So let's dive in and explore a couple of options, shall we?

First up: Roasting. This couldn't be any simpler to prepare, and the result of roasting cauliflower under high heat is transformative. Utterly delicious. The way I make it, the little cauliflower kernels come out bursting with flavor, and tasting like those great crunchy bits that we all like to fight over on any baked dish.

Again, no recipe, just a method:

• Break up the cauliflower head into tiny florets - like popcorn size
• Toss with a glug of olive oil - enough for a light coating
• Add the juice of one fresh-squeezed lemon
• Season with garlic salt and chili powder
• Spread on a baking sheet in one even layer
• Roast in a 400-degree oven, stirring occasionally, until the cauliflower is nicely browned and crispy on the edges

Nothing else to it, and it's fabulous. I swear.

The Call of the Cauliflower, Part 2: Counterfeit Carbs

Ok - not won over yet? The roasted cauliflower - was that still a tough sell? Well what if I told you that you could use cauliflower as a stand-in for your favorite starch? Imagine - replace your carb-loaded mashed potatoes or rice with easily-disguised cauliflower.... and not even notice the difference. It's true. And do you know how I know it's true? I snuck the roasted garlic cauliflower puree past my husband (who - quote - "loathes" cauliflower), letting him assume it was whipped taters.... and he asked for seconds. And thirds. Ha!

Tis simple:

• Steam 1/2 a head of cauliflower florets until fork tender (this will make enough for two adequate portions... or if you're like me, just eat it all and call it dinner)
• Throw the cooked florets into your food processor with 2-4 tablespoons of plain Greek yogurt (start with less and add as you go - since cauliflower contains so much water, it's easy for the puree to get too thin); puree
• Season with kosher salt
• If you want to add roasted garlic to the food processor for the puree, all the better (I use about two whole heads of roasted garlic per 1/2 head of cauliflower)
• Serve as you would mashed potatoes (I like it with a little bit of butter, chives and salt)

Now faking rice - also easy. The trick is to grate the cauliflower. Grating is an awesome ploy. It renders the cauliflower into completely unrecognizable nibs, which you can then use in dozens of ways (a couple more are coming up... like here and here!). But this fake rice is just that - grated cauliflower that has simply been nuked in the microwave for 2 minutes. You don't even add anything to it before nuking - there's enough water in the cauliflower that it basically steams itself.

So let me repeat the very complicated steps:

• Grate
• Nuke
• Eat

Or get fancy like I did in the pictures - toss in some herbs (in this case, parsley). Voila - herbed rice. No matter the case, it's a five-minute side dish, and it really is amazing. The next time I make this, I'm going to try an Asian-style fried rice version, and I predict great things. But for now, I'm grooving on this plain Jane variety.

So if you're watching your carb intake, or are simply looking for innovative ways to get more veggies in your diet (or to sneak them in your S.O.'s diet - or your kids' diets) - you can't beat these sneaky cauliflower maneuvers. Just try it out for kicks and giggles - it's fun to fool the ones you love.

The Call of the Cauliflower, Part 3: Cauliflower and Kale Tabouli

Remember how I promised just a minute ago that I'd get you a nice little recipe for grated cauliflower? This one, my dear friends, is the bomb. The shizzle. The whatever-the-kids-are-saying today to indicate vast goodness. Allow me to introduce you to a salad that has, quite possibly, changed my life: Cauliflower and Kale Tabouli.

You know tabouli, right? That freaking awesome Mediterranean salad of parsley, mint, tomatoes, bulgar and maybe some chickpeas if it's fancy? Well this version turns convention on its head and uses only a handful of the traditional ingredients, but comes out tasting just the same, if not better. I saw the idea on one of the many blogs I read, Steamy Kitchen, and tweaked it just a bit more to be even closer to the traditional recipe.

The thing about this salad is that no matter how you choose - or need - to eat, it fits the bill. Pick your diet: vegetarian, vegan, gluten free, low-carb, low fat, raw.... it's all of the above and more. It's jam packed with powerful antioxidants, loads of vitamins, calcium... and lo and behold.... FLAVOR. I made a big batch, thinking it would last me several days (it stands up beautifully in the fridge) - but ate it all in about 48 hours. Once I started in on it, this salad is all I wanted to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It is that good and addictive.

So without any further ado, here's the best salad that you've never made. Yet.

Cauliflower and Kale Tabouli
(This will make enough for a big party-sized bowl for your next potluck; adjust as you see fit)

• 1/2 head of cauliflower, grated
• 1 head of kale, center stems removed and chopped fine (I used flowering kale for the batch in the photos here - I couldn't pass up on the colors!)
• 1/2 of a good-sized bunch of parsley, stems removed and chopped fine
• 1/2 cup +/- of mint, chopped fine
• 1 pint of cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
• 4 scallions, chopped

For the dressing

• The juice of two fresh-squeezed lemons
• Equal amount of extra virgin olive oil
• 2 cloves of garlic, pressed

To assemble, throw all of the chopped ingredients in a big bowl. Whisk together the dressing ingredients. Pour dressing over the salad and toss. Season to taste with kosher salt. Serve.

The Call of the Cauliflower, Part 4: Cauliflower Pizza Crust

Now this here, this is the piece de resistance. I've saved the best for last: cauliflower pizza crust. Words simply cannot describe the awesomeness of it - you really do have to make it and taste it and marvel at it to believe it. It's a stellar stand-in for pizza dough - as improbable as it may sounds. But I swear on all that is holy, this crust will knock your socks off.

Again - I have proof. We had out-of-town guests visiting for the weekend, and we celebrated with a homemade pizza party. Since my diet is on double-secret probation, and refined sugars are out (especially if they come in the form of pizza crust), I pulled this recipe out of my back pocket so that I could partake in the festivities as well. Lo and behold, of the four pizzas I made (two with this cauliflower crust, two with a cornmeal crust) - which do you think were the first to go? That's right - the cauliflower crusted pizzas vanished quicker than their traditional counterparts. Everyone loved them. Love love loved them. With a capital L. And that goes for Randall as well, my aforementioned cauliflower-loathing DH.

Now, I'm a pretty imaginative cook, but there's no way I can take credit for this idea. I'd actually seen this recipe online months ago (I tweaked mine slightly), and have been dying to try it ever since. The opportunity just had never presented itself. But after today, I can tell you that this dish will be in permanent rotation at my house. It takes a couple of steps, but baby, when it's pizza that you want, this totally fills the bill. It's worth every single step.


Cauliflower Pizza Crust

• 1/4 of a head of cauliflower, steamed until fork-tender, then chopped fine (you can also use the fake rice method); you'll need a yield of 1 cup of loosely packed, finely chopped/grated cauliflower
• 1/2 cup low-fat shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1/4 cup egg whites
• Salt, to taste

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Spread onto a baking sheet that has been generously sprayed with cooking spray (you could also grease the pan with olive oil or butter if you're averse to cooking spray). Use a spatula to form the mixture into a circle. Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until edges are nice and crispy (and I mean nice and crispy - they'll be very brown, almost burned). Remove from the oven and top with your favorite toppings*; change the oven from bake to broil. Broil the toppings until cooked through and the cheese is melted.

*The toppings for our cauliflower pizzas were: Pizza #1 - tomato sauce, fresh heirloom tomato slices, spinach, mushrooms, low-fat mozzarella cheese; Pizza #2 - tomato sauce, mushrooms, red bell peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, low-fat mozzarella cheese.

The Happiest Place On Earth? Home, with Radishes!

I just got back from spending several days in The Happiest Place On Earth. The Most Magical Place On Earth. The Magic Kingdom... you know the place: Disneyland.

Happy and magical, sure; healthy and nutritious, not so much. This is what a typical meal of ours looked like in the park:


And this is what a typical meal of ours looked like outside the park:

So between the fast food and the adult libations, I was not the picture of health on this little adventure. Sure, I was able to throw a salad or two in the mix over the course of four days, had a lovely meal of grilled blackened salmon at The House of Blues in Downtown Disney, and God love em - Disney really tried to step up the health quotient at its concessions (sliced apples were available as an alternative side to french fries, and fresh fruit stands were abundant... problem was, none of it tasted any good. Preservatives are preservatives.) So, the birthday boy Randall and I indulged in way more carnival concoctions than I care to admit. There may have been a corn dog involved. Possibly a churro. And I had anxiety about it the entire time. I am not one to shrug it off as "guilt-free vacation behavior" - I seriously was on edge until... well, now.

To the rescue, my friend Aerial. She showed up at my cubicle bright and early this morning, my first day back from the Anaheim fat farm, with a shopping bag bursting with fresh goodies straight from her garden: delicate lettuces, still specked with earth, and a fistful of stunning French breakfast radishes, lacy green tops still intact. I might just survive after all!



I spent the day envisioning my dinner. A simple salad - the lettuces dressed only with a splash of good olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, a crack of fresh pepper and a sprinkling of sea salt. You can't beat Mother Nature - why try? But the radishes - oh the radishes! I had something crunchy and flavorful and aromatic and spicy in mind for them.

I whipped up what I'll call a Radish Chop Salad, and it was everything I had daydreamed of and more. Even Randall (not quite so guilt-ridden over the junk food consumption as I) enjoyed it with gusto. It's got an Asian flair, and would make an awesome side dish in lieu of coleslaw. But tonight, this salad was my main meal, and I think I've managed to crunch my way out of my food funk. It's good to be back!



Radish Chop Salad
All ingredient quantities can be adjusted - just use what you have in a combination that you like, but here are some guidelines for enough to feed two:

• 1 cup radishes, finely diced
• 1/2 cup baby carrots, finely diced
• 1/2 cup celery, finely diced
• 1/2 cup cooked and shelled edamame
• 1/2 cup dry roasted or raw almonds, chopped

Dressing

• 3 tablespoons sesame oil
• 2 tablespoons nam plah (fish sauce)
• The juice of one large lemon
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 2 teaspoons soy sauce

Combine all of the chopped ingredients in a salad bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk all dressing ingredients together; adjust individual ingredients to taste (these measurements are approximate - you know me, I just throw stuff in there and play with it until it tastes right). Toss the salad ingredients with the dressing and let sit for a minimum of 30 minutes for the flavors to meld. Great make-ahead dish; the textures will hold up in the fridge for a good 24 hours, and the flavors will continue to develop (can you say left-overs?).

This salad would taste amazing with the addition of some fresh chopped cilantro; I just didn't have any on hand.

Seeing Green: Lao Raw Green Bean Salad

As I wrote in the previous post, I didn't get to eat too many fresh veggies in Laos. So I was intrigued by this raw green bean salad in one of my souvenir Laos cookbooks. The description by the cookbook author says it all, so I'll just quote: "This is an excellent dish for summer. Make it for lunch as a side dish, pack it into a picnic basket, or just eat it as a light snack." I've made it as a side dish to a Lao meal a couple of times now, and I'm hooked. So fair warning: if you invite me to a potluck this summer, this is what I'll be bringing!

Raw Green Bean Salad
Ant Egg Soup, Natacha Du Pont De Bie

• 1 large clove garlic, peeled
• 1 birds-eye chili
• 1 heaped teaspoon rough salt
• 1 level dessertspoon brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons unsalted peanuts
• 1 pound raw green beans or long beans, topped and tailed, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 tablespoon fish sauce
• 3 flavorful medium tomatoes, quartered, or 8 cherry tomatoes, halved
• juice of one lime (or more, to taste)

Pound the garlic, chilies, salt and sugar in a pestle and mortar until they are a rough paste. Add the peanuts and pound to break them up (not too fine). Add the bean pieces and fish sauce and pound them until they are bruised so the flavors infuse. Add the tomatoes and pound a few more times. Squeeze on the lime and serve immediately.

Eggplant Red Curry

As mentioned (many times... sorry), I ate a lot of cooked vegetables in Laos as opposed to fresh. But don't you cry for me - I love cooked vegetables (when done right). And in Laos, the sheer variety of vegetable dishes and the ways in which they were prepared never left me lacking or feeling bored with my options. I especially ate a lot of eggplant. In Laos, eggplant comes in dozens of varieties - small, round and green; long thin and variegated; deep, dark and classic aubergine. My favorite take is a simple eggplant red curry, a dish so good that even my eggplant-hating, curry-despising husband will eat with gusto (who IS that man?).

I cobbled together my own semi-homemade recipe to approximate what I ate while in Laos; the ingredients can certainly be tweaked to suit your own tastes. But it's simple, it's tasty, and I can almost guarantee that if you didn't like eggplant before, this dish just might make you a convert. Worth a shot, right?

Eggplant Red Curry

• 1 large eggplant (or several of the smaller varieties), cubed
• 2-3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2+ tablespoons toasted sesame oil
• 1 15-ounce can coconut milk
• 3 tablespoons red curry paste (more or less depending on how much heat/flavor you like - I like a lot!)
• 1/2 cup fresh basil, finely shredded (chiffonade)
• Kosher salt

Start by placing the cubed eggplant in a colander and salting (salting will leach out the bitterness). Let sit to drain for a minimum of 30 minutes but up to an hour. In the meantime, combine the coconut milk and red curry paste; stir to blend well.

Place the sesame oil and minced garlic in a large skillet or wok. Slowly bring up the temperature to medium/medium-high, cooking until the garlic is soft and aromatic (be careful it doesn't burn). Add the eggplant; saute for 2-3 minutes until eggplant is lightly browned on all sides. Add the coconut milk/curry mixture, bring to a simmer. Reduce heat to low and simmer until the eggplant is soft and the curry has reduced by about a quarter. Add the basil chiffonade at the very end; serve immediately. Great with sticky rice!

So Long Tomatoes, See You Next Year

Even now, as I look out the window and watch the colorful fall leaves swirl in the wind and the barely-there spittle of rain stipple the sidewalk, I can't believe it's over. Tomato season, that is. Summer? I can take it or leave it. (Probably because here in Napa Valley, Autumn is the coveted season. Gorgeous temperate days; cozy sweater-wearing, fireside-lounging nights; harvest, color, evening's slanted golden light .... mmm. I'll take Fall any day.) But what I will miss - perhaps more than stone fruit, plump berries or 100-degree temperatures - are fresh tomatoes.

I'm not discriminatory - I love tomatoes of all shapes, sizes and varieties. The uglier the heirloom, the quicker it winds up in my market basket. So as I find myself straddling the divide between tomato glut and tomato drought, I've shored up the pantry for the winter ahead. Sauce, salsa, soup... I've got a few goodies stashed away that capture that summer-fresh ripeness. But my favorite preservation method, hands-down, is slow roasting them in the oven.

Slow, oven-dried tomatoes have an amazing concentrated flavor that I find irresistible. It's a method that works really well with Roma tomatoes; they're the right size and sturdiness, and they pack a wallop of intense flavor when perfectly ripe. Lucky for me, Randall brought home a bounty of the red beauties from the last day of this season's Napa Farmer's Market.

There's not much to it. Slice the tomatoes in half lengthwise, lay them in a single layer on a baking sheet, dribble them with some good olive oil and a sprinkling of Kosher salt, and put them in a 200-degree oven for a nice long, warm nap. I let mine roast for about four hours - maybe longer, depending on the size of the tomatoes. I roast them until they are just this side of completely dried; I like them to still be a little plump. Once removed from the low heat, I just let them cool before loading them into canning jars and covering them with a layer of good olive oil. I don't even bother heat-sealing the jars (at least this time around, since I only wound up with four small jars) - I've just stored them in the fridge, and it will be all I can do to not eat my entire stash before month's end.


The oven-dried tomatoes are an amazing addition to salads, awesome when tossed with pasta, or a great base for tapenades or spreads. I use them just as I would use sundried tomatoes - the possibilities are endless. So I'm set for a little bit - I don't have to let the delight of vine-ripened tomatoes go just yet.

And speaking of vine-ripened tomatoes, I wasn't the only one enjoying the summer's finest. My mom's garden back home in Salt Lake apparently was overflowing this year (see all the pictures she sent me below); she's still harvesting the last of her tomatoes and has been stockpiling them as well. Here's her method for making tomato puree that is the base for her off-the-charts good tomato soup; she freezes the puree in quart-sized Ziplock bags (thanks mom, for the great instructions!).

Tomato Puree and Tomato Soup
Contributed by Judy Angell

This base freezes well, up to a year, and when I need a fresh tasting marinara, soup, juice, or anything else using tomatoes, I pull out one or two bags depending on how much I need. It always tastes like it just came from the garden.

• Gather and wash tomatoes.
• Put in 8-quart pot with lid on to slowly cook over medium to medium-low heat (add about 1 cup of water so the bottom tomatoes don't burn)
• Clean the garlic shallots; chop and put in pot with tomatoes (My mom grows garlic shallots in her garden, pictured below; regular shallots will work as well. Add to taste.)
• Cool when all is cooked
• Ladle cooked mixture into blender; puree
• Pour puree through a small wired strainer into another eight quart pot to catch seeds and small pieces of tomato skin

To make tomato soup, here's where you can go wild and crazy:

• Start with a base of the tomato puree
• Add to it what you like: noodles, rice, meats, variety of vegetables (celery and onions chopped fine are my favorites)
• Simmer 20 minutes
• Salt and pepper to taste
• For an extra zing, add one to two tablespoons of sugar (this is the real secret that gives the soup just a little extra uniqueness)
• Serve hot with a dollop of sour cream and cheese crackers