Perfection Is Overrated

As if tasting delicious weren't enough, this dish has another thing going for it: it's supposed to not look perfect. This is my kind of dinner!

This Tomato, Goat Cheese, and Olive Tart could be called "rustic" or "free form." Or, as Melissa Camero Ainslie, who who shared the recipe on her excellent blog, Bitchin' Camero, said, it could also be called the tart of a lazy person. Whatever you call it, you should make it. It's very easy and a delightful way to highlight summer tomatoes. Although the recipe calls for heirloom tomatoes, I used New Jersey beefsteak tomatoes and it turned out fabulously.

I made one tart and froze the other half of the dough. But I have a feeling I may be defrosting it soon, because this is such a perfect summer meal. Along with a salad, it's a perfect (in a less-than-perfect kind of way) lunch or supper.

Perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know.--S

Catalog Cooking

I've been pulling recipes off the Internet for ages now, while still using my cookbooks regularly, thanks to EatYourBooks. But until now I'd never made a dish from a recipe I found in a catalog.

A new Williams-Sonoma catalog arrived the other day and as I idly flipped through it, envisioning myself sitting down to a lovely spread like this one, I came upon a recipe for something called Tuscan Frittata Affogata. I know this sounds suspiciously made-up, like, do they really eat something so frou-frou sounding in Tuscany? (I also paid attention because Fork ordered a dessert called "affogata" at this restaurant a few months ago and it was fabulous.) Anyway, it looked good: a frittata made with eggs, cheese, and sausage, topped with marinara sauce, fresh mozzarella, and basil.

So I decided to try it. And it was excellent. It looked like a pizza coming out of the oven, all saucy and and bubbly cheese. And that's kind of what it is: a frittata pizza. It may well be true that no one in Tuscany has ever eaten such a thing. But who cares? This is one great dish. I had to make a few adaptations since the recipe--coming from a catalog and all--was written for you to use a fancy frittata pan that W-S sells for $149.95. Pish posh. You don't need one of those. Live on the edge and flip that baby right onto a plate, then slide it back into the pan.

Other than that it's pretty straightforward. An excellent way to use up a leftover cup of tomato sauce; a simple dinner that goes great with a salad and some garlic toasts; delicious the next day, cold or room temperature. I'm off to scour more catalogs now!--S

The Ragu That Got Me Talking

This whole parenting + full-time job + getting back to running, friends, and life is... well, suffice it to say, I haven't figured out how to also keep up with this blog. It isn't that I haven't been in the kitchen: lately I've made some delicious blondies, awesome cupcakes, tasty zucchini pancakes, and a perfect roast chicken (if I do say so myself). It's just that I've been lazy about telling people about them.

But I'm ready to break the silence. What did it? A bolognese sauce with homemade pappardelle. Wide, chewy, eggy noodles tangled onto a plate with a rich, meaty sauce that's just the slightest bit sweet... this, I had to share. I grew up making my mom's marinara sauce, a champion workhorse in its own right. But I'd never made bolognese. I always thought it was too complicated for me. The truth is, it isn't really complicated at all. So long as you can stay home for at least four hours--which isn't so hard when you have a three-month-old baby to cuddle--it's quite simple.

You start by sauteeing some cubed pancetta, and then adding diced carrots, celery and onion. Next, you stir in ground pork and veal. Once the meats are cooked, in go tomato paste, a cup of white wine, milk, thyme, pureed tomatoes, a bay leaf, and chicken stock. Then, for the next three and a half hours, you basically let the sauce slowly simmer down to a thick and chunky consistency, like "loose chili," as the recipe says. I let the sauce cool completely and then froze it for about six days, until we ate it last night.

I'm sure the bolognese would've been great with fresh pasta from any one of our local purveyors, but since I was just bumming around on Sunday afternoon, I decided to make homemade pappardelle from Lidia's Italy. I had all the ingredients, and Lidia's pastas are usually superb. This one was no exception. Sure, the noodles were a little raggedy because I didn't make each ribbon a perfect rectangle. But I like to think their homemade look was more authentic than anything you could buy in a store.

Homemade pasta with bolognese sauce: I can't think of a better reason to get back in touch.--S

Bolognese Sauce

Makes 8 cups

For soffritto

2 T unsalted butter

2 T extra-virgin olive oil

3 oz pancetta, cut into 1/4" pieces

2/3 c minced yellow onion

2/3 c minced carrot

2/3 c minced celery

For sauce

1 lb ground veal

1 lb ground pork

3 T plus 1 t tomato paste

1 c dry white wine

1 1/4 c whole milk (I used a combination of 1% and half & half)

6-7 c chicken stock

1 can (28 oz) whole peeled tomatoes, pureed (w/juice) in blender

1 dried bay leaf

5 sprigs thyme

Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

1. Cook soffritto: Heat butter and oil in large pot over medium-high heat until butter starts to sizzle, then reduce heat to medium. Add pancetta, and cook until golden and fat has rendered, about 2 1/2 minutes. Add onion, carrot, and celery and cook, stirring often, until just beginning to brown around edges, about 10 minutes (adjust heat if mixture is browning too quickly).

2. Brown meat: Add veal and pork and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently and separating meat with the back of a wooden spoon, until no longer pink, 8 to 10 minutes. once meat is completely browned, pour off any excess fat. Add tomato paste and cook 1 minute, stirring to intensify sweetness.

3. Deglaze pot and add liquids: Pour in wine and cook, stirring to scrape up browned bits from bottom of pot, until liquid has evaporated, 6 to 7 minutes. Add 1 cup milk and cook until reduced by half, about 3 minutes (don't worry if it appears slightly curdled, it will smooth out again). Add thyme bundle, then pour in 6 cups stock. Add tomatoes and bay leaf, and season with 1 1/2 t salt and 1/4 t pepper.

4. Simmer the sauce: Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a very low simmer and cook, partially covered, 3 to 3 1/2 hours, skimming the fat from the surface with a ladle periodically. If at any time the sauce appears too dry, add up to 1 cup more stock as necessary. The finished sauce should have the consistency of a loose chili. Stir in remaining 1/4 c milk and season with salt and pepper, as desired. If not serving immediately, let cool completely before transferring to airtight containers. Refrigerate up to 3 days or freeze up to 3 months; defrost in the refrigerator before using.

Recipe courtesy of Martha Stewart's Cooking School

Fresh Pasta for Pappardelle

Makes 1 pound

2 c all-purpose flour

1 large egg

2 egg yolks

4 T extra-virgin olive oil

Ice water as needed

1. Put the flour in the bowl of the food processor and process for a few seconds to aerate. Mix the egg, egg yolks, and olive oil in a measuring cup or other spouted container.

2. With the machine running, pour the liquids quickly through the feed tube on top of the flour. After 20 seconds, most of the dough should clump up on the blade. Process for another 15 seconds or so--no more than 40 seconds total. (If the dough does not gather on the blade and process easily, it is too wet or too dry. Feel the dough, then work in either more flour or some ice water, in small amounts, using the machine or kneading by hand.)

3. Turn the dough out on a lightly floured surface and knead it by hand for a minute, until it's smooth, soft, and stretchy. Press it into a disk, wrap well in plastic wrap, and let it rest at room temperature for 1/2 hour.

4. To roll out the dough in a pasta machine, cut the pound of dough into four equal pieces. Work with one at a time, keeping the others covered. Run the first piece of dough through the rollers at the widest setting several times, to develop strength and smoothness. Repeat with all the pieces. Reset the machine to a narrower setting, and run the first piece through, extending it into a rectangular strip. Let the rollers move the dough, and catch it in your hand as it comes out. Roll it again, to stretch and widen it. Lightly flour and cover the strip, then stretch the other pieces.

5. Roll and stretch all the pieces at progressively narrower settings, until they spread as wide as the rollers (usually about 5") and stretch to 20" or longer. Cut the four long pasta strips in half crosswise, giving you eight sheets, each about a foot long and 5" wide. Lay these flat on the trays in layers, lightly floured, separated, and covered by towels.

6. Lay out a rolled sheet on the floured board; dust the top with flour. Starting at one of the short ends, fold the sheet over on itself in thirds or quarters, creating a small rectangle with three or four layers of pasta.

7. With a sharp knife, cut cleanly through the folded dough crosswise, into 2"-wide strips. Separate and unfold the strips, shaking them into long needles. Sprinkle them liberally with flour so they don't stick together. Fold, cut, and unfurl all the rolled psata sheets this way and spread them out on a floured tray. Leave them uncovered, to air-dry at room temperature, until ready to cook.

8. Cook in salted boiling water 2-3 minutes.

Recipe courtesy of Lidia's Italy

Dinner at Home, Finally

After spending three days schlepping around the Javits Center for BookExpo, I wanted nothing more tonight than a home-cooked meal. This year's show did entail some good eats, including a wonderful party hosted by the Lee Bros., which featured boiled peanuts, fried chicken and Dogfish Head beer. But it also entailed choking down a squished turkey sandwich in the basement of the convention center as I filed stories on deadline.

So a homemade dinner was definitely on the menu. I decided to make Hunter's-Style Chicken with Rosemary, which sounds much better in Italian: Pollo alla Cacciatora. I'll save my grandfather's legendary version for another post, but this version, from Lidia's Italy, is very, very good. It fit the bill nicely. The ingredient list is brief (chicken, garlic, rosemary, red pepper flakes, plum tomatoes). The procedure couldn't be simpler (brown chicken in olive oil; add garlic, rosemary, hot pepper, crushed tomatoes and water; simmer). And the finished dish was satisfying and delicious.

I made a pot of polenta while the chicken simmered (whisk 1 cup cornmeal with 1 cup water and a dash of salt; stir in 2 cups boiling water; cook over medium heat, stirring, until desired consistency). As Lidia advises (and you know how I trust her), it's nice to spoon the chicken--which, once finished, is falling off the bone--and tomato sauce on top. The polenta soaks up the sauce, everything melds together, and you've got a wonderful meal. Happiness.--S

Hunter’s-Style Chicken with Rosemary

4-lb chicken cut into 8-10 pieces (I used thighs and drumsticks)
1 1/2 t sea salt or kosher salt or to taste
1/2 c extra virgin olive oil
8 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced in half
2 short branches fresh rosemary with lots of needles
1/2 ts peperoncino flakes or to taste
4 c or a 35 oz can of canned Italian plum tomatoes, preferably San Marzano, crushed by hand

1. Rinse chicken and pat dry. Season with salt. Pour olive oil in pan and set over medium high heat. Place chicken skin side down in pan to brown for 2 to 3 minutes. Turn them over and brown another 2 to 3 minutes. Scatter the garlic into the hot fat in between chicken and then drop in rosemary stems and sprinkle peperoncino over.
2. Keep turning chicken until nicely browned all over, 10 minutes or so, then pour in tomatoes slowly. Slosh the tomato can with a cup of water and pour that in too. Sprinkle another 1/2 tsp salt, raise heat, and turn and stir chicken in juices as they come to a boil.
3. Cover pan, leaving slightly ajar. Adjust heat to maintain steady bubbling. Cook for 20 minutes stirring occasionally and turning chicken. Remove cover and cook another 20 minutes until chicken is tender and cooked through.

Recipe courtesy of Lidia's Italy

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

Deliciously Unnecessary

Here's the thing about homemade pasta: I know it's not necessary. I live between two excellent shops that carry perfectly respectable dried pasta and pretty delicious fresh pasta. So I'm not going to get all "Homemade pasta is the only option; you simply must make your own, to hell with Barilla!" on you. But. Homemade pasta is really, really good. And the satisfaction of knowing that you (and your pasta machine) spun magnificent fettucine noodles out of flour, eggs and olive oil is not to be underestimated.

Fork and I received the Kitchen Aid pasta roller and cutter attachment as a shower gift. Alas, he was on a fishing trip in Montauk this weekend and missed its debut (but he'll no doubt enjoy the leftovers). So Kate and I gave it a try, and were quite impressed. We followed Lidia Bastianich's recipe for fettucine, using all-purpose flour, eggs, egg yolks, extra-virgin olive oil and ice water. The food processor turned out a soft, stretchy ball of dough in less than a minute, and after it rested for a half-hour, we revved up the stand mixer. Recalling what I'd learned from my mom about making pasta, we began feeding the dough through on the widest setting. We kept running it through, gradually adjusting the thickness setting to four, which resulted in an almost see-through sheet of pasta. Then we ran the sheet through the fettucine cutter, keeping the dough well-floured throughout. We separated the strands and laid them in nests (oh, how I loved those beautiful nests) on floured trays. And so it went for 1 1/2 lbs of pasta dough. The process was easy and fun.

So what to do with all this lovely fresh pasta? We went with Lidia's Fettucine with Squash and Cauliflower, a delicious seasonal dish. Using butternut squash and cauliflower from the greenmarket, plus capers, canned San Marzano plum tomatoes, garlic, onion and hot pepper flakes, we (er, Kate--I had done all the prep work and let her do the cooking!) prepared a warm, cozy, chunky vegetable sauce. The pasta cooked in boiling water for about two minutes, and we tossed it with the sauce, adding lots of pecorino cheese.

The pasta was tender and perfectly cooked, with some little clumps--truth be told, our favorite parts--where we hadn't used enough flour. The squash and cauliflower florets were softened, and the tomatoes strewn throughout added color and texture. We both had seconds, and still barely made a dent in the massive bowl. And this morning I woke up and considered reheating some for breakfast. I held off until lunch, and am digging in right now.--S

Fettucine with Squash and Cauliflower

1/2 c extra-virgin olive oil
3 plump garlic cloves, crushed, peeled
1 small onion, thinly sliced (1 c slices)
3 c butternut squash, cut in 1/2" cubes
3 c cauliflower, cut in small florets (about 1")
4 T small capers, drained
1 t coarse sea salt or kosher salt or to taste, plus more for cooking pasta
1/2 teaspoon peperoncino flakes, or to taste
2 c canned Italian plum tomatoes, preferably San Marzano, crushed by hand
1 lb pound fettuccine
1 c freshly grated pecorino

1. Pour the olive oil into the big skillet and set over medium-high heat. Scatter in the sliced garlic and let it start sizzling. Stir in the onion slices and cook for a couple of minutes to wilt. Spill in all the cut squash and cauliflower pieces, scatter the capers, salt and peperoncino on top and with tongs toss all together for a minute or so. Pour a cup of water into the skillet, cover tightly and steam the vegetables for 2 or 3 minutes, shaking the pan occasionally.
2. Pour in the crushed tomatoes along with a cup of water sloshed in the tomato containers. Stir well and cover. When the tomato juices are boiling, adjust the heat to keep them bubbling gently. Cook covered for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. When the vegetables are softened, uncover and continue cooking to reduce the pan juices to a good consistency for dressing the pasta, about 5 minutes. Adjust the seasoning to taste and keep at a low simmer.
3. While the sauce is cooking, heat the salted pasta cooking water to a rolling boil (at least 6 quarts water and a tablespoon salt). Drop in the fettuccine and cook until barely al dente. Lift them from the water, drain for a moment, then drop onto the simmering vegetables. Toss and cook all together for a couple of minutes, over moderate heat. Moisten the dish with pasta water if it seems dry; cook rapidly to reduce the juices if they're splashing in the skillet.
4. When the pasta is perfectly cooked and robed with sauce, turn off the heat. Sprinkle over the grated cheese, toss into the pasta and serve.

Recipe courtesy of Lidia's Italy

The Family Cornbread

As soon as I ate the first spoonful of Heidi Swanson's Roasted Tomato Soup with Smoked Paprika, I knew I should've made something bready to go with it. Grilled cheese, maybe, or toasty garlic bread. It's not that the soup wasn't enjoyable; with its oven-roasted tomatoes, red bell pepper, onions and garlic, it was warm and comfy, with a little more depth than your typical tomato soup. But it needed a go-with.

Enter my grandfather's cornbread. Mulyatz, we call it--though that's the phonetic spelling, and when I asked Pop how it's really spelled, he wasn't quite sure. Mogliacci? Mogliazi? I'd never made it before, but remembered eating it as a child, when Pop would make it. His favorite way to eat it is alongside escarole and beans (as bread), or cut into small squares and served as a hot or cold appetizer. It's basically cornbread amped up with Italian sausage and Parmesan cheese. And what's not to like about that? Pop told me he got the recipe from his mother, who got it from her mother--and while cornbread and polenta are typically northern Italian specialties (and Pop's family is from Naples), this dish has nevertheless been part of our family repertoire for five generations.

Spoonful of soup, bite of mulyatz--now we're talking. I even broke off a few little bits of mulyatz and dunked them into the soup. Just delicious.--S

Mulyatz (cornbread)

1/2 lb Italian sausage
1 small onion
1-2 T olive oil
2 c yellow cornmeal
1/3 c Parmesan cheese
4 c water
Black pepper and salt

1. Grease 13"x9" baking dish with olive oil.
2. Dissolve cornmeal in 2 c cold water. Stir and set aside.
3. Remove casing from sausage, break up into pieces and saute with olive oil and chopped onions.
4. Bring 2 c water to a boil. Pour in the sausage and onions, then add cornmeal and water mixture. Stir constantly until very thick, then add cheese, pepper and salt.
5. Pour mixture into baking pan, spreading out evenly to about 1/2" thick. Let rest for 1/2 hour.
6. Preheat oven to 425. Rub a bit more olive oil on top of cornbread and bake for 1 hour or until crust forms on top.

Hold Onto Summer

With summer slipping through my fingers (60 degrees when I stepped outside to run this morning!), I resolved to get myself to the greenmarket this week and enjoy the still gorgeous produce. The tomatoes, especially, continue to look amazing, and when I saw a recipe for a Caramelized Tomato Tarte Tatin in Wednesday's paper, I knew I had to make it.

I somehow skipped over the "tatin" part when I first read the recipe. What really drew me in were the words "tomato" and "tart." (Incidentally, it was almost exactly a year ago that I discovered this magnificent tomato tart.) The ingredient list seemed perfectly reasonable--puff pastry, onions, sugar, sherry vinegar, olives, tomatoes and thyme--so I made a split-second decision to make it for dinner. Many farmers at the market were selling cherry tomatoes in gorgeous colors, and I asked one of the vendors if I could mix and match them. He thrust a plastic pint basket at me and said, "Go nuts." So I did, handpicking about a pound of red, orange, yellow and purple cherry and grape tomatoes.

And then I got home and read through the recipe--and realized this was a tarte tatin--French code word for "upside down." Riiiight! I've made plenty of apple tarte tatins, and actually love them for their rustic look and simplicity. And that's exactly what this tomato tarte tatin was. I caramelized thinly-sliced onions and set them in a bowl to cool. Then I made a caramel sauce in a nonstick skillet, added the tomatoes and olives, spread the onions on top, plus thyme, salt and pepper, and topped the whole thing with a round of puff pastry dough. Into a 425-degree oven it went, and about 20 minutes later it was golden brown. A quick (and you must do it quickly, there's no other way) flip over onto a plate, and we were ready to eat.

The tarte was both savory and sweet, dessert-y and dinner-y. We gobbled it up with a big green salad, and helped ourselves to seconds. The roasted tomatoes exploded in our mouths, the puff pastry crust slightly crunched, and we were happy to hold onto summer a little bit longer.--S

You Had to Have the Big Salad

When I spotted an article in July's Food & Wine about Laurent Gras, an athletic chef who goes on 100-mile bike rides and won the magazine's prestigious Best New Chef award in 2002, I was psyched. Runner's World regularly profiles chefs who run, but their recipes sometimes let me down: too much emphasis on carbs and protein, and not enough emphasis on taste. So I was keen to try one of Gras's dishes. I'd picked up some fresh shelled peas and radishes at the greenmarket, so I was already well on my way to building the Crunchy Vegetable Salad with Sautéed Peas and Radishes.

Warning: this is no get-home-and-you're-eating-10-minutes-later salad. The recipe's head notes suggest 50 minutes. I'd say give yourself a good hour and 15--if you're going to follow the instructions to a T. Yes, blanching and peeling cherry tomatoes (or worse, as I did, tinier grape tomatoes) is not the easiest task. Nor is cooking and peeling fava beans (an ingredient I skipped entirely). The peas take a two-minute bath in boiling water, too; then they go into a sauté pan with radishes, olive oil and salt. And I used jarred artichokes instead of fresh baby ones, since I couldn't find them at the market or the two grocers I went to.

Extra labor notwithstanding, this is a great salad. Its combination of cooked and raw ingredients is quite satisfying, with a zing from lemon zest and a lemon vinaigrette. We didn't even miss the favas, and while I know jarred artichokes pale in comparison to fresh baby ones, they really did the job just fine. We ate this salad for supper along with a zucchini frittata and some country wheat bread. Big salad, big(ger than usual) effort, big payoff.--S

Crunchy Vegetable Salad with Sautéed Peas and Radishes


1 c cherry tomatoes
1 lb fava beans, shelled
1/2 lb fresh peas, shelled
1/4 c extra-virgin olive oil
2 T fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt
4 baby artichokes (I used one small jar of marinated artichokes)
4 medium radishes, quartered
1 bunch watercress (6 ounces), tough stems discarded
1 t finely grated lemon zest

1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Fill a bowl with ice water. Cut a slit into the base of each tomato and blanch them in the boiling water until their skins start to split, about 15 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the tomatoes to the ice water to cool, then drain and peel.
2. In the same water, cook the fava beans until just tender, 2 minutes. Remove and let cool slightly, then peel. Blanch the peas until just tender, 2 minutes. Drain well.
3. In a medium bowl, whisk 3 tablespoons of the olive oil with the lemon juice and season with salt. With a paring knife, trim the artichoke stems and snap off the tough outer leaves until you reach the light green inner leaves. Using a serrated knife, cut off the top third of the artichokes. Trim the bottoms and stems. Cut the artichokes in half lengthwise. Using a teaspoon, remove the chokes, if any. Thinly slice the artichokes lengthwise, add them to the dressing and toss to coat. Add the peeled tomatoes and the fava beans and toss again.
4. In a medium skillet, heat 1 1/2 teaspoons of the olive oil. Add the radishes and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 2 minutes. Add the blanched peas and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Season with salt.
5. In a medium bowl, toss the watercress with the remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons of olive oil and the lemon zest and transfer to plates. Top with the artichoke salad and the radishes and peas; serve.

Recipe courtesy of Food & Wine

Eggplant Zapatini

Each issue of Everyday Food has a page with the unfortunate title "zap it," featuring a dish cooked entirely in the microwave. I've never made any of these recipes, a little skeeved out with the idea of cooking my dinner entirely with microwave radiation, no matter how safe they say it is.

So I compromised on this month's offering. For EF's "zap-it" version of Eggplant Rollatini, you season eggplant slices with salt and pepper and microwave them "until tender and pliable but not fully cooked, 6 to 8 minutes." I zapped them for 5 minutes, and worried that even that was too much, but it turned out alright. However, I wasn't about to roll them up with a mixture of ricotta, Parmesan, egg, garlic, salt and pepper and zap that. The recipe recommended 15 to 17 minutes and I imagined a rubbery mass of eggplant and cheese. So I baked the rolled eggplant, surrounded with some of my homemade marinara, at 350 for 20 minutes, going on my grandfather's old saw, "I like a nice 350 oven." Once the sauce was bubbling up from the bottom of the dish, I scattered some shredded fresh mozzarella on top and let it melt for another four minutes.

Semi-zapped, I'll take this dinner any day. Salty cheese stuffed inside eggplant that had become almost sweet in the cooking, topped with chunks of tomatoes. And now I've got another use for my microwave besides warming up milk for my morning coffee.--S

My Favorite One-Pot Meal

With dinner guests coming on Tuesday and overnight temps in the 20s, I needed ideas for a tasty winter meal. It had to be something I could assemble quickly, since I work all day, and I didn't want something too meaty, since I'd just made meatloaf on Sunday. Fork had a brilliant suggestion: "How about that chicken you make in your dutch oven with the white beans?" It's not for nothing that I'm engaged to this genius.

The recipe for Baked Chicken with White Beans and Tomatoes came to me by way of Aunt Betty (and you thought she was only a desserts whiz--ha). Not only is it a one-pot meal, it also calls for just five ingredients! This is a dish you want in your winter repertoire, trust me. Canned, stewed tomatoes give a hint of sweetness, and once you throw in bacon and onions, a humdrum chicken-and-beans dish becomes a standout meal.

I served the chicken with some roasted potatoes of debatable provenance: I got the recipe from my mom, who got it from Micol Negrin, but Fork maintains Jacques Pepin is the guy behind the dish, and he got the recipe from his mom. Whatever, they're great. You boil baby new potatoes just until they're tender, then smash them slightly and roast them in a 400-degree oven with olive oil, and just before serving toss them with minced garlic and herbs (last night I used thyme). We also enjoyed a Caesar salad with my cousin Mike's dressing, which was, as usual, excellent.

Enjoy winter--for now, anyway!--S

Baked Chicken with White Beans and Tomatoes

6 bacon slices (1/4 lb total), cut into 1-inch pieces
4 large chicken thighs with skin and bone (1 1/2 lb total)
2 medium onions, chopped (1 1/2 cups)
1 (14- to 16-oz) can stewed tomatoes including juice
2 (15- to 16-oz) cans small white beans, rinsed and drained

1. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Cook bacon in a 10-inch heavy ovenproof skillet over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until browned and crisp, about 8 minutes. Transfer bacon with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain, reserving fat in skillet.
3. While bacon is browning, pat chicken dry and season with 1/2 t salt and 1/4 t pepper. Brown chicken in fat in skillet over moderately high heat, turning over once, about 8 minutes total, then transfer chicken with tongs to paper towels to drain.
4. Pour off all but 3 T fat from skillet and reduce heat to moderate. Cook onions in skillet with 1/4 t salt, stirring and scraping up any brown bits, until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Stir tomatoes and juice into onions and boil, uncovered, 3 minutes, to concentrate juices slightly. Stir in bacon and beans and bring to a simmer. Nestle chicken, skin side up, in beans and bake, uncovered, until chicken is cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes.

Recipe courtesy of Gourmet.

August Tomato

Fork's just back from winning a semi-final game with his softball team. The Yankees are about to beat the Red Sox. Ice cream's churning in the kitchen. And the tomatoes are fine. It's a lovely August night if ever there was one.

So those tomatoes: fabulous. I picked some up from the market after work and put together a simple meal for myself. Inspired by "So Many Tomatoes to Stuff in a Week" from last week's New York Times--and still in a Spanish mood--I made Pan Con Tomate. I toasted slices of a baguette (my first purchase at Borough Food & Drink) and smeared them with garlic. A little olive oil and some kosher salt, and then the piece de resistance: squished tomato. Appetizing, right? Actually, yes. You rub a tomato that's been cut in half, cut side down, on the bread, squeezing the insides out as you go. It's so delicious.

The apartment's quiet, and I can hear the hum of traffic outside. I leaf through a magazine, munch on some parmigiano-reggiano and lick my fingers as tomato dribbles down my chin. Not a bad way to wrap up August.--S