Summer's Visit

Yes, springtime's all about asparagus, rhubarb and ramps, but 85 degrees in April calls for summertime food. I'm talking potato salad, some vegetables thrown together in a quick dressing, and a terrific new scallop dish that I can easily see becoming a regular meal around here once summer arrives for good.

The recipe comes from Rick Moonen's Fish Without a Doubt, a book I'd skimmed for months but hadn't actually cooked from until recently. The marinade caught my eye not only because of its sweet-spicy combination, but because it looked so simple (and I was really needing a simple recipe, having run a half-marathon that morning in 80 degrees, and having totally flopped at dinner the night before). Sea Scallops with Jalapeno-Grapefruit Marinade it was.

The marinade is pretty tart from grapefruit juice and zest, and considerably spicy, with about one and a half diced jalapenos, seeds, ribs and all. But you're only marinating the scallops in the jalapenos, not actually eating them, so it's a very palatable spice. The marinade's other ingredients are cilantro, scallions and dry vermouth (you could probably use a dry white wine)--all summertime staples around here. After marinating the scallops for an hour, we seared them on a griddle (obviously if you had a grill you would use it here) for about three minutes per side.

They were fantastic. A little spicy, and sweet from the grapefruit. Moonen says this is terrific with head-on shrimp, too, which I'll definitely try once summer's here for good.--S

Sea Scallops with Jalapeno-Grapefruit Marinade

Serves 4 (8 as an appetizer)

Grated zest of 1 grapefruit
Juice of 2 grapefruits (about 1 1/3 c, and pulp is fine)
1/4 c minced jalapeno chiles (with seeds)
1/4 c chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 c chopped scallions
1/3 c dry vermouth
3 T olive oil
16 large sea scallops, tough bits removed
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

1. Stir the grapefruit zest and juice together with the jalapenos, cilantro, scallions, vermouth and olive oil in a baking dish or plastic container.
2. Immerse the scallops in the marinade, cover, and refrigerate for 1 hour.
3. Prepare a grill so it's very hot.
4. Take the scallops out of the marinade. Season them with salt and pepper and brush them with vegetable oil.
5. Brush the grill with vegetable oil. Grill the scallops for 3 minutes per side. Scallops are like little sponges--they soak up the marinade, which will slow down the cooking. Don't expect these to get very brown, though you should have grill marks.

Recipe courtesy of Fish Without a Doubt

Thrifty and Good

So I hear, there's an elegant restaurant in San Francisco called Spruce where chef Mark Sullivan prepares dishes like California caviar with a potato blini and a brioche ($90) and buttered Maine lobster with gnochhi ($40). An article in Food & Wine a few months ago offered "thrifty" versions of a few of Sullivan's recipes, and while the whole idea of making these fancy dishes for less was a good enough gimmick, what really drew me in was the recipe for Cod with Artichokes and Chickpeas.

At Spruce, Sullivan makes this dish--which is essentially cod fillets browned in a skillet with some olive oil, served over a melange of veggies softened by simmering with chicken stock and seasoned with some herbs--with highbrow ingredients like chanterelle mushrooms and baby artichokes. He charges customers $29. For F&W's home version, they suggest using shiitake mushrooms and frozen artichoke hearts. (I wound up using jarred artichoke hearts, and they worked just fine.) I think Fork & I spent about $29 total for all the groceries we needed for this dish, and it served two, with plenty of vegetables leftover to toss with pasta for another meal.

The other ingredients in the dish are onion, carrots, garlic and chickpeas, so it's pretty healthy. And tasty; the cod was cooked just enough for buttery bite-sized pieces to flake off perfectly. Each bite was a little different, depending on which veggies you'd picked up on your fork. It was a lovely meal, no need for accompaniments, and we wiped our plates clean, thinking, "Twenty-nine dollars a plate--as if!"--S

Cupcakes Win

I cooked a decent dinner for some friends the other night: macaroni and cheese carbonara with fontina, pancetta and peas, along with Mom's meatloaf. My lovely husband played bartender and made us all some delicious tequila sunrises with tequila we'd bought in Mexico. And I made homemade vanilla ice cream for dessert, using a vanilla bean I brought back from Martinique. But none of these things made me as happy as the Mini Chocolate Cupcakes with Seven-Minute Icing I made for dessert.

These cupcakes were divine, truly. Moist, light and just chocolatey enough. They kind of reminded me of Hostess cupcakes, the ones with that little dab of frosting in the middle and curlicue designs on top, because they weren't that sock-you-in-the-stomach rich chocolate flavor. Instead, they were like tiny chocolate pillows. The recipe calls for cake flour and all-purpose flour, but since only required a half-cup of each, I just used a full cup of all-purpose and sifted it. The batter also consists of unsweetened cocoa powder, dark brown sugar, granulated sugar, buttermilk and brewed coffee. Pretty heavenly stuff, wouldn't you say?

With marshmallow-ish Seven-Minute Icing on top, plus a smattering of rainbow sprinkles, these cupcakes were my favorite food of the evening. No offense to everything else (even those delectable cocktails), but these were just perfect.--S

Chocolate Cupcakes

Makes 6 large cupcakes, 24 mini cupcakes

1/2 c cake flour
1/2 c all-purpose flour [or use 1 c all-purpose flour and skip the cake flour]
1/3 c unsweetened cocoa powder, preferably Dutch processed
1 1/2 t baking soda
1/4 t kosher salt
1 large egg
1/2 c firmly packed dark brown sugar
1/2 c granulated sugar
1/2 c buttermilk
1/2 c brewed coffee
1/3 c canola oil

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Grease the insides of muffin cups.
2. Sift the cake and all-purpose flours, cocoa powder, and baking soda together onto a piece of parchment paper or into a bowl. Stir in the salt.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together the egg and the brown and granulated sugars.
4. In a small bowl, mix together the buttermilk, coffee and canola oil.
5. In 3 additions, alternately stir the wet and dry ingredients into the eggs. Divide the batter among the muffin cups.
6. Bake until a skewer inserted in the center of a cupcake comes out clean, 15 to 20 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Carefully remove the cupcakes from the cups by running a knife around the inside edge of the cup.

Recipe courtesy of A Passion for Ice Cream

Seven-Minute Icing

Makes about 3 cups

3 large egg whites
1 1/2 c sugar
1/3 c cold water
1 T light corn syrup
1/4 t cream of tartar
1 t vanilla

1. Combine all ingredients except vanilla in the top of a large double boiler or a heatproof bowl and beat until thoroughly blended.
2. Set over rapidly boiling water. Beat constantly with a hand-held mixer at medium-high speed, or with a wire whisk, until the mixture stands in stiff peaks, 7 minutes. Remove from the heat.
3. Add vanilla and continue beating until the icing is cooled to room temperature. Use at once.

Recipe courtesy of Joy of Cooking

Sunday Dinner with a Twist

Sunday dinner: it's rustic and cozy and homey and familiar. Right? Maybe, like, a nice hearty pasta dish? Rigatoni, perhaps, which holds marinara sauce like no other pasta? Add some sausage for substance. How about a little broccoli rabe, too? And wouldn't some heavy cream make it even better? Hold on.

Andrew Carmellini, who was until recently the chef at the fabulous restaurant A Voce, uses a curious ingredient to add smooth, rich texture and full, earthy flavor to Rigatoni Pugliese: chickpeas. It struck me as a little strange at first; wouldn't chickpeas pureed along with their liquids take things in a decidedly non-Italian, hummus-y direction? At least, I thought they would. But apparently, chickpeas are used all the time in Puglia. And the Pugliese know good food. So I went with it, and am very glad I did.

You start by browning a pound of spicy Italian sausage, out of the casing. Add about three cups of tomato sauce (I used my mom's recipe but any basic one would work). And then, in goes pureed chickpeas and liquid. They add a creaminess that looks a lot like heavy cream would, swirling into the sauce, lightening it in color while thickening it. For the final touch, you blanch and sautee broccoli rabe with a few whole chickpeas and garlic. You boil the macaroni until it's al dente, and then pour it into the sauce, tossing in the rabe and chickpeas. (I added a pat of butter and some pecorino cheese, but that's optional.)

It's a spectacular Sunday supper. I love the idea of substituting a legume for a heavy dairy ingredient. Just a little lighter, but still plenty comforting.--S

Rigatoni Pugliese

Serves 4 to 6

For the sauce:
1 15-oz can chickpeas
¼ c plus 2 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 lb spicy Italian sausage
3 c basic tomato sauce
½ t ground fennel seed

For the broccoli rabe and rigatoni:
1 bunch broccoli rabe, cleaned of outer leaves and bottom stems trimmed
1 lb rigatoni
2 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, sliced Goodfellas thin
¼ t red pepper flakes
salt and pepper to taste

To finish the dish:
2 T butter
2 t extra-virgin olive oil
1 c grated pecorino cheese

To prepare the sauce:
1. Drain the chickpeas well, reserving the liquid. Blend half the chickpeas (about 1 c) and all their liquid on high until the mixture forms a smooth paste, about 1 minute.
2. Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over high heat. Squeeze the sausage out of the casing and add the meat to the pan. Brown it, stirring regularly and breaking the meat up into small pieces with a spoon or potato masher.
3. Add the tomato sauce and stir to combine.
4. Add the chickpea purée and the fennel seed and stir to combine. Cook over medium heat until the mixture forms a loose sauce and the flavors are combined, about 15 minutes.

To prepare the broccoli rabe and the rigatoni:
1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
2. Blanch the broccoli rabe until the stems are just softened and the color has deepened, about 90 seconds. Remove with a slotted spoon or spider to a bowl of ice water to immediately stop the cooking process.
3. Return the water to a boil, add the rigatoni and cook until it’s al dente. Drain but do not rinse the pasta.
4. Warm the olive oil over medium-high heat in a medium sauté pan. Add the broccoli rabe, garlic, red pepper flakes, and the remaining half of the chickpeas. Season with salt and pepper and sauté until the greens are well coated, about 1 minute.

To finish the dish:
1. Return the rigatoni to the pot. Add the sauce and cook on medium-high heat, mixing well, until the pasta is well coated, about 1 minute.
2. Remove the pot from the heat and stir in the butter, olive oil, and half the pecorino cheese.
3. Transfer the pasta and sauce to a large serving dish and pour the broccoli rabe and chickpea mixture over the top. Top with the rest of the pecorino cheese and serve immediately.

Recipe courtesy of Urban Italian

Scoping Out the Neighborhood

Little by little, I'm exploring our new neighborhood. I've yet to find a great butcher or fish store, but I can cross one thing off the list: a good health food store. It's Gary Null's Uptown Whole Foods Store. It has a big produce section, lots of bulk dry goods and a substantial Asian foods aisle... where Fork & I picked up mirin, rice vinegar, naturally brewed soy sauce and udon noodles. I was on my way to making Asian Noodles in Broth with Vegetables and Tofu, a recipe from Peter Berley's Flexitarian Table.

Berley's approach is along the lines of Almost Meatless; he gives instructions for making the dish with either flank steak or soft tofu. It's positioned more as a "please everybody" approach than an environmental or health-oriented one, but the idea is the same: a little less meat and a lot more veggies. We bought the flank steak, which Berley suggested, at Food Emporium. (Not sure I liked the store; while Fork thought their meat department was great, I found other areas lacking. But that's another post!) Turns out, the steak was the part of the dish we liked least. I don't think it has much to to do with Food Emporium; rather, flank steak is such a tough cut that marinating it would've gone a long way towards making it more tender. Instead, Berley has you slice the steak into thin strips and cook it in the broth. The broth, made from soy, mirin, rice vinegar and fresh ginger, was terrific, deeply flavored and smooth. But cooking the steak in it, even for just two minutes, resulted in a grey-ish meat that frankly was just kind of "eh."

Aside from the meat, though, this soup was really great. With udon noodles, snow peas (I used green beans because Food Emporium--ahem--didn't have them), mushrooms, radishes, carrots and scallions, plus a dab of hot sauce, it was well-rounded and filling. I'll definitely return to this soup, building on what I know now. And hopefully once I find a good butcher, I'll try it again, with a strip steak, or even just a sirloin. Like our new 'hood, this one's got lots of possibilities.--S

Asian Noodles in Broth with Vegetables and Tofu/Steak

serves 4 (2 servings tofu; 2 servings steak)

1 8-ounce package udon noodles

BROTH
½ cup soy sauce
1/3 cup mirin
3 T rice vinegar
1 T finely grated peeled fresh ginger
1 c snow peas, strings removed and halved crosswise on the diagonal
1 c thinly sliced mushrooms
6 oz flank steak, sliced against the grain into short thin strips
8 oz soft tofu, cubed

GARNISHES
1 romaine lettuce heart, finely shredded
½ c thinly sliced red radishes or daikon matchsticks
½ c carrot matchsticks
2 scallions, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
Toasted sesame oil, for serving (optional)
Hot sauce, for serving (optional)

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the noodles and cook until al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain and divide among four large soup bowls.
2. In each of two small saucepans, combine 1 ½ c water with half of the soy sauce, mirin, vinegar, and ginger and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Add half the snow peas and half the mushrooms to each pan, then add the steak to one pan and the tofu to the other. Simmer until the snow peas are crisp-tender, the meat is cooked, and the tofu is heated through, 3 to 5 minutes.
3. Divide the vegetable garnishes among the bowls and ladle the hot soup over the noodles. Drizzle each serving with a few drops of sesame oil and hot sauce, if desired. Serve immediately.

Recipe courtesy of The Flexitarian Table

The Inaugural Dinner

The first night in our new home, we ate some very delicious eggplant parmigiana my mom had made. But what to make the second night? I knew I'd also want to get some unpacking done, so I couldn't throw myself into a three-hour dinner making extravaganza. But I didn't want some chintzy, hastily assembled dish like salade nicoise or sauteed shrimp, which I'd been considering, and I'm sure would be fine, but not momentous enough for the first home-cooked meal. I could've tried a new recipe from any one of my many cookbooks, but what if it was a dud? That wouldn't be a good omen for the first real meal in a new home. I was pretty much stressed out over dinner, and it wasn't good.

And then, the epiphany: a family recipe. Something I knew how to make by heart; that I'd never screwed up; that was hearty, homey and good; and that we didn't eat all the time but that we always enjoyed. It was Pork Chops and Vinegar Peppers, and it was just the thing.

I grew up loving this dish, with its acidic peppers smoothed out just a bit by chicken stock and pork, with spaghetti on the side. I loved it so much that in third grade, when we were going around the classroom naming our favorite dinners, I proudly said, "Pork chops and vinegar peppers" when everybody else was saying meatloaf and pizza, and got a chorus of ewwws. But I didn't care.

This is a quick meal to put together; the hardest thing might be finding the vinegar peppers, depending on where you live. B&G Foods makes them; the company started in Manhattan in 1889 and apparently has not achieved world domination yet. I guess other peppers would work, but the dish won't really be the same. The peppers in vinegar are tangy and add such a nice punch to the pork. Other than that, things are straightforward: brown chops, saute peppers, add juices, cook until pork is done, serve over spaghetti mixed in with all the juices and lots of parsley.

Hoping this is the beginning of many more delicious, happy meals.--S

Pork Chops and Vinegar Peppers over Spaghetti

Serves 4

4 center-cut pork chops on the bone
Olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 large jar red bell peppers in vinegar
2-4 T fresh parsley, minced plus more for garnish
1/2 c chicken stock
1/2 lb spaghetti

1. Warm 2-3 t olive oil in a large nonstick fry pan. Season pork chops with salt and pepper. Brown chops in pan 1-2 minutes per side on medium high heat. Remove chops from pan.
2. Slice peppers and reserve the vinegar from the jar. Add 2-3 t olive oil to the pan and saute peppers for 5 minutes. Add minced garlic and cook 1 minute. Add stock and 1/4 c reserved vinegar.
3. Return the chops to the pan along with parsley. Cover and simmer on low flame 5-7 minutes, until pork registers 155 degrees or is slightly pink inside. Meanwhile, cook pasta in boiling, salted water until al dente.
4. Place chops and pepper son a serving platter. Toss pasta with liquid from pork chop pan. Sprinkle with parsley and serve with grated parmesan cheese.

Out with Chicken Pot Pie

We're moving tomorrow--finally! And so I present to you the final recipe in the Operation Clean Out the Pantry series. Drumroll please...

On the "let's finish this up" list were about four skinless chicken thighs, on the bone; buttermilk; herbs; mushrooms; cheddar cheese; and a big bag of all-purpose flour. I have to say, the challenge of figuring out what to make with odds-and-ends ingredients like that is a lot easier if you use the Internet. A search on Epicurious led me to Turkey Potpie with Cheddar Biscuit Crust, which I quickly determined could be easily adapted to my ingredients. The recipe actually was meant to use up leftover turkey after Thanksgiving, and I'm sure that's a terrific use for the meat. But I'll also say that roasting chicken in a 400-degree oven for 40 minutes and then pulling it off the bone, shredding it to chunks, works just fine as well. The other sub I made was dill in the place of thyme. Other than that, I followed the recipe.

You cook onion, celery, chopped parsnip and herbs until tender, and then toss in some chopped mushrooms, stirring them until they're soft. You thicken the veggies with a sprinkle of flour, and then pour in a fair amount of chicken stock. Once your soup is nice and thick, you stir in the meat and a box of frozen peas, and season the entire thing with salt and pepper. And this is where things get interesting. While the veggies were cooking, you had already whipped up a quick biscuit dough made with buttermilk, butter, Parmigiano and grated sharp cheddar. So you take that batter, which is quite lumpy, and drop dollops of it on top of the thickened soup/meat mixture. And then you slide the rather bizarre-looking creation into a 400 degree oven for 35 minutes.

This was one of those dishes which, when cooking, your mouth is watering so much that it takes everything in your power not to tear the dish from the oven and dig in right there. The smell of buttermilk biscuits, savory vegetables and roasted chicken have to be some of the most appetizing I know, and taken together? Hold me back. Of course, we had to wait another nearly interminable 10 minutes for the dish to cool before we could spoon it out, but eventually that time came, and let me tell you, it was sweet. Amazing, actually. The biscuit was thick and fluffy; the flavors of the meat and vegetables underneath had melded together into a warm and comfy stew. It was heaven, seriously.

And with that, I'm off to our new kitchen!--S

Turkey Potpie with Cheddar Biscuit Crus

Serves 8

For stock:
Carcass and skin from a 12- to 14-pound roast turkey
10 cups water

For filling:
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
2 large carrots, cut into 1/2" pieces
2 celery ribs, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 large parsnip (peeled), cored and cut into 1/2" pieces
1 t chopped thyme
3 T unsalted butter
1/2 lb mushrooms, trimmed and quartered
1/4 c all-purpose flour
4 c roast turkey [or chicken] meat, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 (10-oz) package frozen baby peas, thawed
[3 1/2 c chicken stock]

For biscuit crust:
2 c all-purpose flour
2 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1/2 t black pepper
1 c coarsely grated extra-sharp Cheddar
1/4 c grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
3/4 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 1/4 c well-shaken buttermilk

Separate parts of carcass and put, along with skin, in an 8-quart pot. Cover bones with water and simmer until liquid is reduced by one third, about 1 1/2 hours. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a large bowl. Set aside 3 1/2 cups stock (reserve remainder for another use).

Make filling:

Cook onion, carrots, celery, parsnip, and thyme in butter with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in a 12-inch-wide shallow pot (3- to 4-quart), covered, over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are almost tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook, uncovered, stirring, until tender, 5 to 7 minutes.

Sprinkle with flour and cook, stirring constantly, 2 minutes. Stir in stock (3 1/2 cups), scraping up any brown bits, and bring to a boil, stirring, then simmer until slightly thickened, about 3 minutes. Stir in turkey, peas, and salt and pepper to taste. Reheat over low heat just before topping with biscuit crust.

Make biscuit crust and bake pie:

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle.

Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and pepper into a medium bowl. Add cheeses and toss to coat. Blend in butter with a pastry blender or your fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add buttermilk and stir just until a dough forms. Drop biscuit dough onto filling in 8 large mounds, leaving spaces between biscuits.

Bake until biscuits are puffed and golden brown and filling is bubbling, 35 to 40 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Cooks' notes:

· If using carcass and meat from a brined turkey, filling may need little or no salt.

· Filling can be made in a 12-inch skillet and transferred to a 13- by 9-inch baking pan before topping with biscuit dough.
· You can substitute another turkey stock or reduced-sodium chicken broth for the stock in this recipe. You can also make stock using leftover cooked chicken in place of turkey.

1. Separate parts of carcass and put, along with skin, in an 8-quart pot. Cover bones with water and simmer until liquid is reduced by one third, about 1 1/2 hours. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a large bowl. Set aside 3 1/2 cups stock (reserve remainder for another use). [Skip this step if you're using pre-cooked chicken.]
2. Cook onion, carrots, celery, parsnip, and thyme in butter with 1/2 t salt and 1/4 t pepper in a 12-inch-wide shallow pot (3- to 4-quart), covered, over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are almost tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook, uncovered, stirring, until tender, 5 to 7 minutes.
3. Sprinkle with flour and cook, stirring constantly, 2 minutes. Stir in stock (3 1/2 c), scraping up any brown bits, and bring to a boil, stirring, then simmer until slightly thickened, about 3 minutes. Stir in turkey, peas, and salt and pepper to taste.
4. Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle.
5. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and pepper into a medium bowl. Add cheeses and toss to coat. Blend in butter with a pastry blender or your fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add buttermilk and stir just until a dough forms. Drop biscuit dough onto filling in 8 large mounds, leaving spaces between biscuits.
6. Bake until biscuits are puffed and golden brown and filling is bubbling, 35 to 40 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Recipe courtesy of Gourmet

Shameless Self-Promotion Department

I wrote an article for Gourmet.com!

Bulgur with Coconut, Ginger and Almonds

We've scheduled our move for March 18, and you know what that means... Operation Clean Out the Pantry is kicking into high gear. For the dish I'm about to tell you about, I used up a bag of bulgur that had been knocking around in the cabinet for a few months. This dish was so tasty that I'm tempted to buy more bulgur to make it again, even if it thwarts my efforts to empty the pantry pre-move.

It's just a variation on whole grain breakfast cereal, and it barely needs a recipe. Bulgur with Coconut, Ginger and Almonds is pretty self-explanatory. I stirred in a bit of milk to bind everything together, and plain yogurt would work well, too. Bulgur, which is apparently akin to cracked wheat, has a nutty flavor and chewy texture (for everything you ever wanted to know about bulgur, check out this article). And it cooks quickly: you bring it to a boil in a pot of water, then turn off the heat, put a lid on the pot, and let it sit for 25 minutes--just long enough to hop in the shower and get dressed. When you're ready, so is your bulgur.--S

Bulgur with Coconut, Ginger and Almonds

Serves 2

2/3 c bulgur
1 1/3 c water
2 T chopped crystallized ginger
Handful of chopped almonds
Handful of sweetened coconut, shredded

1. Put the bulgur and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Cover tightly, turn it off, and leave for 25 minutes while you take a shower and get dressed.
2. Stir in ginger, almonds and coconut; add a splash of milk.

* The variations here are endless: spices dried fruits, seeds... go nuts!

Cod with Ginger and Scallions

I don't know why I've held out on sharing this recipe with you for so long. I've been making it every couple of months for a few years now, and it's always good. It's fast, easy, healthy and delicious. It's Steamed Cod with Ginger and Scallions, and I think you should add it to your repertoire, too.

Most of the time, I have all the ingredients I need for this recipe in my kitchen already, save for the cod. The Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch Program recommends you use Pacific cod; if you can't find it, you could use red snapper or sea bass. But it's worth it to splurge on a nice piece of fish, because the flavors and preparation are so simple that the fish really is the star here. You whisk rice vinegar, soy sauce and grated fresh ginger in a large skillet, lay your salted and peppered cod fillets onto the liquid, and then bring it to a boil. Lower the heat to a gentle simmer, cover and let it cook for six minutes or so, a little longer if your fish fillets are thicker. Then, when the fish has about two minutes to go until it's opaque throughout, you lay the green parts of a handful of scallions over the fish, and let them wilt while the fish finishes cooking. That's it!

The cod flakes away in such beautiful pieces, and it's gently infused with soy and ginger. (In the picture above, you can see the cod actually broke apart as I was taking it out of the skillet--not that that bothered me.) The scallions are a little al dente, and eating a forkful of cod and scallion together gives you a great variety of textures. With some rice and veggies, you've got a simple and extremely tasty supper. Sorry it took me so long to share this one with you!--S

Steamed Cod with Ginger and Scallions

serves 4

4 skinless cod fillets (6 to 8 ounces each)
3 T rice vinegar
2 T soy sauce
2 T finely grated, peeled fresh ginger
Coarse salt and ground pepper
6 scallions, green parts cut into 3-inch lengths

1. In a large skillet, combine rice vinegar, soy sauce and ginger.
2. Season both sides of cod fillets with salt and pepper; place in skillet with vinegar mixture.
3. Bring to a boil; reduce heat to a gentle simmer. Cover; cook until fish is almost opaque throughout, 6 to 8 minutes.
4. Meanwhile, thinly slice scallions lengthwise. Scatter over fish; cook (covered) until fish is opaque throughout and scallions are just wilted, about 2 minutes more.

Recipe courtesy of Everyday Food

Almost Meatless... Unless There's a Juicy Pork Chop Nearby

I know I've been extolling the virtues of eating less meat lately, but I have to confess: there is nothing like a good pork chop. We're lucky enough to live about three blocks from a terrific butcher, an old-world kind of place that carries lots of high-quality organic meats. The pork chops they cut to order are just gorgeous. So you know, if you're going to eat meat, this is the way to do it.

Braised Pork Chops with Savoy Cabbage seemed like a good choice for a rainy winter Sunday. The recipe, from Lidia's Italy, plays on a centuries-old combination; in this rendition, the meat and its juices are used to flavor and cook the cabbage. I'm usually not a huge cabbage fan, finding it kind of stinky and even bitter. Just a few weeks earlier, I'd given it a chance, and was disappointed. But I reasoned that Lidia had never steered me wrong, and at least I was certain the pork would be stellar.

The recipe has you slice the cabbage into inch-and-a-half-wide strips and boil them until tender, about 15 minutes. Next, you heat up some butter and olive oil in a skillet and brown the chops alongside a few rosemary sprigs. Once they're nicely braised, you remove them, and pour some white wine into the skillet, deglazing any caramelization. Toss in a bit more butter and olive oil (I should've known: wine, butter and oil are keys to making cabbage tasty), and then pile in the cooked, drained cabbage. Let almost all the liquid evaporate, and the cabbage shreds start to caramelize, then return the meat to the pan. Cook it all for a few minutes more, and you're set.

There was silence as we tucked in. Fork finally broke it, saying, "Perfect. This is the best pork chop I've ever had." I had to agree. The chops were slightly pink in the center, juicy and--I can't believe I'm writing this, but it's true--succulent. The cabbage was tender and delicious, the rosemary cutting any bitterness and the meat giving it a rich, deep flavor. We ate the cabbage and pork with a spinach salad with hard-boiled eggs and bacon, and some semolina bread. And we ate it all, every last bite.--S

Braised Pork Chops with Savoy Cabbage

serves 6

4 lbs Savoy cabbage
6 T butter
6 T extra-virgin olive oil
6 pork loin chops, on the bone, 2.5 to 3 lbs.
2 t coarse sea salt
2 or 3 small branches fresh rosemary
1 c white wine
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Brings 6 quarts of water to the boil in the large pot. Slice the cabbage head (or heads) in half, and cut out the core completely so the leaves will separate. Discard all tough and torn outer leaves, lay the cabbage halves cut side down, and slice crosswise into strips about 1 1/2 inches wide. Drop all the strips into the water, cover the pot, and return to the boil. Cook the cabbage until tender, about 15 minutes, and drain in a colander.
2. When the cabbage is cooked, put 3 T each of butter and olive oil in the big skillet and set over medium-high heat. Season the pork chops on both sides with salt (about 1 t in all) and lay them in the hot skillet. Drop the rosemary branches onto th epan bottom.
3. Sear the chops on the underside, about 3 minutes, turn, and brown the second side for a few minutes more. The chops should still be rare--if you like them better done, cook a minute or two longer on both sides. Remove to a platter, and keep in a warm spot.
4. Pour the wine into the skillet and bring to a boil, stirring to deglaze any caramelization. Cook for just a minute or so, to dissipate the alcohol, then drop in the remaining 3 T of butter and 3 T of olive oil. Stir well until the butter melts and the liquid is bubbling.
5. Pile the cooked, drained cabbage in the skillet, turning the strips over as they heat and wilt in the pan juices. Sprinkle 1 t salt all over, and cook, tossing and stirring, until the pan is nearly dry and the cabbage shreds are just starting to caramelize.
6. Push aside the cabbage, lay the chops on the pan bottom, and pour in any meat juices from the platter. Still over medium-high heat, cook the chops for 2 or 3 minutes, turning them over once or twice, just until they're heated through. Stir the cabbage so it continues to caramelize and pick up flavor. Season with more salt and some freshly ground black pepper to taste.
7. Serve right from the skillet, or arrange chops and cabbage on a platter and bring to the table.

Recipe courtesy of Lidia's Italy

The Perfect Cookie

If the biscotti you're familiar with need to be dunked in coffee for a full 30 seconds before eating in order to not crack your teeth, have I got news for you: not all biscotti are like that. Sure, there's a time and a place for all biscotti, but if I had to live out the rest of my days eating only one kind, I'd go with Mom's Biscotti.

They're a little soft and crumbly, not too sweet and shaped a bit like rounded rectangles, actually more like biscuits than cookies. There are no chopped bits of bittersweet chocolate, no segments of dried exotic fruits, no citrus zest. Instead, Mom's Biscotti have walnuts, anise seed, anisette or sambuca, and a hint of almond extract. They may not be much to look at, but they're so simple and honest, with just enough sweetness that they hit the spot after a meal but not so much that you can't eat one for breakfast with coffee. The perfect cookie, I'd say. I just enjoyed one on a rainy Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea. Delicious.--S

Mom's Biscotti

3 eggs
3 c flour, sifted
1 T anise or fennel seed
1 c walnuts, chopped
3/4 c sugar
1 t vanilla extract
3 t baking powder
1 t almond extract
1 T anisette or sambuca
1 stick unsalted butter

1. Beat eggs, melt butter. Combine, then add sugar, flour, baking powder and flavorings/liqueur.
2. Blend well, add nuts and seeds, and shape dough into two long, flat logs (use flour if your hands are sticky).
3. Place the logs on a lightly greased cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.
4. Remove from oven and let cool on sheet. Once cool, slice and lay slices on their sides.
5. Bake at 350 for 10 to 15 more minutes, or until golden.

Better Hot Pockets

I'm still working on cleaning out the pantry, but tonight the challenge extended to the freezer, where I had stashed a flattened roll of filo dough and three links of turkey sausage at some point over the past two months, among other goodies. I also had "less meat" on my mind, since I just talked to three authors today about the trend, and how important it is for your health, your wallet and the planet--not to mention your conscience. So I went to a book that two of those authors wrote for a dinner plan tonight.

Spinach and Chickpea Pouches come from Almost Meatless, a book I first heard about in October. The authors mention Greek spanakopita triangles in their introduction to the recipe, but those cocktail party staples only have three ingredients in common with these tasty pockets. The filling here is much more substantial and consists of meat (the authors suggest eight ounces of ground beef, but I used turkey sausage), red onion, spinach, chickpeas, roasted red peppers, feta, garlic and herbs. Everything except for the cheese gets pre-cooked in a saute pan. Once the filling's ready, you spread out a few sheets of filo, spoon about a half-cup of filling onto the filo and sprinkle a bit of crumbled feta on top. Rolling up the pouches is a little tricky, and my early ones were kind of misshapen. Eventually I figured out that folding one side over the filling and then rolling the whole pouch toward the other side was the best way, so they truly were rolls. One other adaptation: I was out of sesame seeds to sprinkle atop the egg-washed pouches, so I used cumin seeds. Not the same, I know; but they worked.

Alongside some bright green broccoli sauteed in garlic and olive oil, these made a great dinner. Instead of tzatziki, Greek yogurt or sour cream, I stirred a bit of crumbled feta into plain yogurt, seasoned with salt and pepper. It was a nice accompaniment to the piping hot pockets. Three of us couldn't everything--which means each of us ate less than a link of sausage--and still wound up stuffed.--S

Wake and Bake

I know I'm a big dork, but I woke up at my parents' house last weekend wanting to bake. There was a beautiful kitchen downstairs; gleaming appliances; counter space galore; and a stocked pantry. I plucked Great Cookies: Secrets to Sensational Sweets by Carole Walter off my mom's cookbook shelf, headed into the kitchen... and realized that the pantry wasn't exactly stocked. I guess that's what happens when Mom and Dad take off for vacation.

Ginger spice cookies were out: there was barely a teaspoon of ground ginger. Key ingredients for oatmeal raisin and chunky white chocolate cookies were missing, too. I had to keep it simple: there were two eggs and a few sticks of butter in the fridge, and we had bought some milk. There was flour, salt, baking soda, sugar, vanilla extract and I even found a stash of pretty sparkling white sugar. Turns out I had all the ingredients for Super Sugar Sparkles... and you probably do, too.

These cookies fall under Walter's "Big Boys" categorization--meaning each cookie is made from a quarter-cup of dough and spreads out to nearly five inches in diameter. They remind me of the bakery cookies I always went for as a kid. The ones at our local bakery were covered in rainbow sprinkles and Walter's have sparkly clear sugar, but they're the same size and have the same buttery texture, somewhere between crunchy and soft. They're pretty perfect, actually.

A few notes on the recipe: Walter advises using superfine sugar; with the limited pantry options I was facing, that wasn't an option, so plain old granulated sugar it was. I also had to add an extra tablespoon of milk because the dough was so crumbly I couldn't form it into a ball. I also only got 13 cookies instead of 16.

If you wake up with the urge to bake (come on, admit it), this is the recipe to turn to. Straightforward, satisfying--and no trip to the supermarket necessary!--S

Love the Loaf

Add meatloaf to the list of foods I just assumed I hated when I was younger. Like lamb, it was something my dad did not like; therefore, my mom didn't serve it, and my sister and I grew up figuring meatloaf was just not good. Well, we were wrong.

The unfortunately named dish is really tasty, and about five years ago I discovered a wonderful recipe for Turkey Meatloaf that included, among many other tasty ingredients, porcini mushrooms and homemade breadcrumbs. I made it for Fork and I and was sold. Who knew meatloaf was actually good? Flavorful and filling, but not heavy--and the perfect thing for a Superbowl dinner.

There's a fair amount of prep work involved, but if you have a mini-chop or food processor, it's not so bad. Once your veggies--in addition to the porcinis, there are onions, garlic, carrots and parsley--are minced, you cook them on the stove; then you add the bread crumbs (I used a 7-grain bread I'd bought at the market), eggs, milk and some seasonings. I recommend using your bare hands to mix in the meat. Nothing like a good "squish, squish" noise and feel to whet the appetite!

You shape the meat and veggies--held together now by the breadcrumbs, egg and milk--into a rounded loaf, and bake for about an hour. The recipe suggests serving this with a roasted red pepper tomato sauce, but I like it plain. We ate the meatloaf on sandwiches using the bread I'd just made, alongside some lemon-zested kale. I'd take this meal over hot wings and nachos any Superbowl.--S

Spoon vs Gourmet

I'm not quite making bread daily (har) yet, but twice in one week is certainly stepping it up. I knew it was only a matter of time before I tried making one of the gorgeous rolls from Gourmet's February issue, and on Sunday, the time had come. I went with the Crusty Cornstalk Rolls because I had all the ingredients in my kitchen already (pantry, people, pantry!).

So here's the thing about this particular recipe spread. Every photograph is drop-dead gorgeous. Golden crusts, perfect knots, pretty fantails and fancy swirls... could I really do this? Probably not. But I was going to give it a shot anyway. The headnotes for the Cornstalk Rolls recipe insisted, "the technique for shaping this sculptural loaf is very simple..." Right. First I needed to go out and buy a pair of kitchen shears, which, truth be told, I did need. After that, the dough came together pretty easily; I had to use a bit more flour because it was extremely sticky, but I didn't really have any problems in that department.

However, when it came to shaping the dough into a "towering cornstalk," I was nervous. Snipping dough with extremely sharp kitchen scissors on the diagonal, pulling apart the pieces and stretching the dough to form rolls that were connected to the center "stalk"... this is advanced stuff. I kept telling myself it didn't matter how it looked; it's all about the taste, because I knew my bread (above left) wasn't going to look like the picture in the magazine (below right). Oh well. Not the first time that's happened.

I diligently misted the rolls with water before baking them, and then spritzed the oven with water three times during the first five minutes of baking. And the finished product? As expected, a little more "homemade" looking than the picture. But tasty? You bet. A little grainy from the cornmeal, nicely crusty from the misted water. My friend Kate said they were even prettier than the ones in the magazine. Take that, Gourmet.--S

Moving On Up

We're moving in a few weeks (our new kitchen rules!), and in preparation, I have begun Operation Clean Out the Pantry. Somehow I don't think it's going to be as much fun as Operation Clean Out the Shoe Collection. But anyway. Last night I used up some soba noodles, riffing on that delicious Otsu recipe from last summer. Today's special: blackstrap molasses.

While searching for a recipe in which to use it, I tried to remember what I'd bought it for in the first place. I'm pretty sure it was for Sticky Teff-Kissed Spice Loaves, a deliciously sweet and spicy cake. Turns out that the recipe I decided to make today, a Ginger Cake from Gourmet, is pretty similar. I guess blackstrap molasses have a way of dominating. Which is fine with me, so long as it's cooked, because while stinky and gross out of the bottle, this kind of molasses gets a deep, rich flavor after some time in the oven.

It's a fairly straightforward cake recipe, with flour (I used two cups of regular flour and one cup of sprouted wheat flour--score one more item out of the pantry!), butter, brown sugar, eggs and baking soda. Then, lots of powdered ginger--I grated a dried ginger root I got from a friend who went to India--plus some cinnamon.

After an hour in the oven and some cooling time, this cake was great. Using a springform pan resulted in a perfectly crisp crust, crunchier than the teff loaf. They're definitely similar: both dark, moist and deeply flavored. And as far as I can tell, they're the best way to use blackstrap molasses.--S

It's Bread Time

Between the February issue of Gourmet, with its gorgeous cover image of plump, golden rolls; and the graphic novel I just finished reading, about a Japanese kid who just wants to bake bread (making him an outcast in his family of rice eaters), I've had bread on my mind lately. And when the weather turned nasty last night, with snow, sleet and rain predicted, it was decided: I was baking bread.

I got this recipe from my cousin Kathy, a master breadmaker, and had tried it twice before. The first time was a bust; I used yeast that had expired two weeks earlier, which turned out to be a very poor decision. The dough never rose, and I wound up tossing it, sadly. The second time was quite good, and I'd say this most recent batch was even better. It's a Classic French Bread, but instead of shaping it into baguettes (baby steps!), I make it into a "country French loaf," which is a nicer way of saying "ball." As with most breads (I think?) patience is the primary ingredient; there are two risings with this recipe, each one about an hour and a half. So if you want bread for dinner, you should start making this around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Also, a stand mixer makes things much easier. And no, I don't feel like I'm cheating when I attach the dough hook and flip the switch.

The recipe has you brush the dough with melted butter and salt before you bake it, which is a nice touch that not only spiffs up the finish product with a warm glow, but gives it a gentle salty flavor. If you're wary about baking bread, this is a terrific starter recipe, one that I plan on sticking with for a long time. Thanks, Kath!--S

Classic French Bread

1 cup warm water (105 to 115 degrees)
1 envelope dry yeast
1 T sugar
1 t salt
1/2 t balsamic or red wine vinegar
2 c bread flour
3/4 c (about) all-purpose flour
1/2 stick unsalted butter 1
1/4 t salt

1. Pour 1 cup warm water into bowl of heavy-duty electric mixer. Sprinkle yeast and sugar over; stir to dissolve. Let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.
2. Mix salt and vinegar into yeast. Add bread flour; using paddle attachment, mix 5 miutes. Replace paddle with dough hook. Add 1/2 c all-purpose flour and knead until soft and slightly sticky dough forms, adding more all purpose flour if dough is very sticky, about 7 minutes.
3. Coat large bowl with 2 T oil. Add dough, turning to coat entire surface. Cover bowl with plastic-wrap. Let dough rise in warm, draft-free area until tripled in volume, about 1 1/2 hrs. (To test, press 2 fingers into dough; if fully risen, indentations will remain. If indentations fill in, cover with plastic and let dough rise longer.)
4. Melt butter with salt in saucepan. Keep glaze warm.
5. Oil or butter baking sheet. Punch down dough. Form dough into round ball, smoothing top. Place on baking sheet, flattening slightly. Brush with butter glaze and let rise until tripled in volume as above.
6. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Slash dough in tic-tac-toe pattern or with swirled slashes radiating from center. Bake until loaf is golden brown and sounds hollow when tapped on bottom, about 35 minutes. Cool on rack.

Recipe courtesy of The Bon Appetit Cookbook

Comfort

Since getting home from our honeymoon, I haven't been the most adventurous cook. I've been sticking with things I don't need recipes for: granola, chicken milanese, pesto, roasted peppers. I don't think I've tried a new recipe in weeks. Tonight was no exception. And I'm pretty happy with that, especially since dinner was one of my childhood favorites: Sausage, Peas and Potatoes.

I wish there were a more glamorous or catchy name for it, but the truth is, it's simple food with a simple name. I remember sleepovers at my grandparents' when I was a kid: Lucky Charms for breakfast, snacks consisting of Neopolitan ice cream on cones (mostly strawberry, please) and Tang (?!). We had a few favorite dinners, and one was Sausage, Peas and Potatoes. The recipe is shamelessly simple: you toss wedges of Idaho potatoes and yellow onions with some olive oil, salt and pepper; place them in a roasting pan; add links of Italian sausage; roast (somewhere between 350 and 400 degrees) for about an hour and a half. Stir once, about halfway through, and 15 minutes before the dish done--you'll know when the potatoes are browned, the onions are crisping at the edges, and the sausage is golden--toss in a can of peas. I think everyone in my extended family grew up eating this dish and knows the recipe by heart.

The best part of this dish might be the browned bits that gather in the corner of the pan. Or it might be the way the sweet potatoes (a new-ish addition) get mushy and sweet. Or maybe it's the comfort of throwing together a ridiculously easy meal that's so homey and good.--S

Mexican Granola

After getting married and honeymooning in Mexico, we are finally back in action--with a granola recipe. I know, it's not very exciting. But ever since Fork and I returned from the tropics I have really been missing the breakfast at a lovely little cafe in Tulum called Trecelunas. My favorite item on the menu? Fruit, yogurt and granola, tropical-style. Back in freezing cold New York, I was determined to recreate it.

I started with my basic granola recipe and went from there. Instead of cranberry juice concentrate as the sweetener, I used orange juice concentrate. I ditched the dried cranberries, too, in lieu of dried mango, papaya and pineapple. I doubled the amount of coconut, and stirred in a teaspoon of the Mexican vanilla I brought home. Now, I'm still searching for a nice, liquidy yogurt like they served at Trecelunas--it was almost like a yogurt sauce, drizzled atop fresh melon, kiwi and banana. But aside from that, I think I nailed it. Fork called it my best granola ever!--S