Serve Hot and Watch Your Guests Go Crazy!

With a wife and two daughters who are very much at home in the kitchen, my dad, understandably, usually enters the room just as dinner's hitting the table. The preparation of meals is largely handled by us gals, which is just fine with everyone involved. But on the rare occasion when Dad deems to cook, there's a very good chance he's making his signature dish: Party Ryes.

You could call the recipe retro, but that would suggest that Dad had revived it from a forgotten time. The thing is, Dad never stopped making Party Ryes. They debuted in the '70s, when he saw them mentioned on TV during a football game, and he's been making them ever since. A symphony of pimento-stuffed olives, chopped onions, parsley, mayo and swiss cheese, Party Ryes aren't exactly low-cal or high-brow. But nibbled during cocktail hour, especially if you're on vacation, cold beer in hand, deep in a heated game of gin rummy, you could do far worse. The Party Rye is a guilty pleasure appetizer and a nostalgic favorite. With the Superbowl coming up, I suggest you whip up a batch. As Dad wrote at the end of the recipe card he gave me once, "Serve hot and watch your guests go crazy."--S

Party Ryes

Small jar of olives with pimento, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
1/8 c. fresh parsley, chopped
4 T Mayonnaise ("real not diet")
Party rye bread slices ("no substitute")
Swiss cheese cut into squares

1. Put olives into bowl, add onions, parsley and mayo.
2. Spread onto party rye and top with squares of swiss cheese.
3. Bake on tray in toaster oven or oven broiler until cheese is thoroughly melted.
4. Serve hot and watch your guests go crazy.

What Do You Call It When a Starbucks Closes? A Good Start!

An article in the New York Times this week reports some glorious news: a Starbucks is closing! Actually, it sounds like many of them might close.

“After more than a decade of sensational buzz, Starbucks is struggling,” notes the Times. Starbucks’ Howard D. Schultz said this week he will roll out a plan that “will almost certainly involve shutting down more stores, saying that the company's strategy of saturation (just look at the map of NYC starbucks locations!), its “WalMarting” of the coffee experience, is flailing. that’s great news. My question: what can I do to help hasten the downfall?

Yes, folks, I pretty much hate Starbucks. I hate this tasteless chain for taking over my city block by block, for threatening the livelihood of neighborhood cafes, for hypercaffeinating and giving refuge to dickhead, laptopped yuppies, for poisoning the culinary lexicon with "product" like the triple-shot venti mocha skim half-caff latte and the “frappuccino,” while overcharging for a regular cup of their grainy, bitter “coffee of the day.” And all that was before they started serving crappy food and selling crappy CDs. I have to think putting out Paul McCartney's latest turd on their own label alone is reponsible for 50 stores closing.

OK, maybe I'm a bit of hypocrite. In Madrid, I loved the offerings of Spanish chain Cafe y The. Part of my disdain for the corporate coffee experience that is Starbucks is tied up with the feeling of watching my once-vibrant neighborhood be overrun by developers. Between 1998 and 2000, no less than five Starbucks opened around my old East Village home. It was only a sign of things to come. Back in 1990, I used to walk down my block and see colorful slogans like “fuck the police” scrawled on walls. One day, shortly after the first “luxury dorm” went up and Starbucks began threatening my favorite coffee shops, a new slogan appeared: "ban ATM fees." The issues and struggles of the gentrifying yuppie may lack emotional impact, but about a year later, I was living in Brooklyn.

No, I'm not bitter (unlike Starbucks overly roasted Kona, blehhh). And, I know, you can't stop progress. But you can stop Starbucks, and that, as far as I'm concerned is progress.--F

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.

The Family That Cooks Together...

Friday night, my family and I took a cab over to chef Micol Negrin's Midtown cooking studio to officially wind down the holiday season. It'd be tough to come up with a better finale to 12 days of eating and drinking than attending Micol's "Winter Feast in Northern Italy" class, helping to prepare the meal, learning cooking techniques and tricks, drinking wine and enjoying one of the best meals I've had this season.

In Micol's spacious, tricked-out kitchen (Wolf ranges and ovens; Subzero fridges, freezers and wine storage; Henckels knives), we chopped, sauteed and stirred. The first course was Crepes Stuffed with Two Cheeses & Shiitake Mushrooms in Béchamel Sauce. Micol did us the favor of making the crepes ahead of time, so we set to work making the sauce, sauteeing the mushrooms (a mix of shiitake, baby bella and oyster), mixing them with Raclette and Mozzarella cheeses, and assembling the crepes (my mom directed the positioning of the quesadilla-like crepes into a big roasting pan and ladled béchamel sauce over them). The main course was Slow-Cooked Lamb Ossobuco with Mint Gremolata, which Micol had started the day before. Our task: make the sauce, which consisted of butter, onions, carrot (expertly chopped by my dad), celery, bacon and juniper berries. Once everything was soft and starting to caramelize (under Laura's watchful eye), in went flour, then red wine, then tomatoes, demi-glace, salt and pepper. The side dish was Roasted Garlic Risotto (I squeezed the hot, roasted garlic paste out of the garlic skins), and for dessert, Grand Marnier Mousse with Fresh Berries (layered into wine glasses as per my dad's instructions).

After about an hour and a half of cooking, we were ready to eat. It was an amazing meal: the crepes were a huge hit, nice and cozy, the Alpine cheeses lending a delicious Vermonty taste. The lamb was unbelievably tender and rich, and the risotto a comforting side. And dessert was lovely, light and airy. We ate around a large table with the other class participants (we were 20 in all). About halfway through dinner, I heard someone remark, "How about those carrots! Look how nicely they're chopped!" and before long I heard my dad saying, "I'm gonna bag 'em! Ron's diced carrots!"--S

Oh, No, Bolo!

Some sad news to start 2008: Bolo, Bobby Flay's wonderful take on contemporary Spanish cuisine, has closed. "After 15 years we have closed our doors as of December 31, 2007," reads a sign in the window. "We would have loved to stay longer, but our home will soon be reduced to rubble." The latter statement surely refers to the sale of the building that housed Bolo on E. 22nd St. We expected the closure, just didn't expect it to come so soon or so suddenly.

Luckily, Spoon and I had a lovely meal there recently when my mother and my Aunt Judy visited from upstate New York. It was a typical Bolo affair: a terrific menu of seasonal ingredients, including a lovely butternut squash soup. The service was impeccable, as always. The waiter suggested a lovely Spanish white wine (Burgans Albarino, Rias Baixas) and obligingly wrote down the vintatge on a card for me after the meal. Spoon picked up a bottle for me as stocking stuffer this Christmas, and it sits chilling the fridge.

Bolo was a delicious, consistently excellent restaurant, a class act, and a terrific neighbor. Unlike some other experiences (ahem, Rocco), Bolo respected the block. It's a sad loss to start the year.--F

Merry Christmas!

It started with champagne, of course. Because Christmas Eve is always celebratory: the flocking of family members from around the country to one modest New Jersey dining room, the excitement of it being the night before Christmas, the happiness that comes from delicious eating foods you consume only once a year. Reasons enough to break open the bubbly!

This year, 23 of us sat down to three tables Aunt Mimi had lined up, stretching from the dining room bay window through the hall and well into the living room (God forbid we split up and eat in small groups). And we ate. Six fishes, with a bowl of Goldfish crackers on the table as our seventh. It sure was grand. The approximate order of events follows:

1. Antipasto: roasted red peppers, Italian tuna in olive oil, olives, marinated eggplant and artichoke hearts, Provolone.
2. Fresh mozzarella with tomatoes.
3. Fried calamari.
4. Pop's smelts, with vinegar and mint.
5. Baked stuffed clams in the beautiful clam shells.
6. Fork announces the scratch-off Lotto ticket my aunt left on his plate is a winner; once he has everyone's attention he admits he didn't win the lottery, but that he hit the jackpot: Spoon and Fork are getting married!
7. More champagne, kisses, hugs, tears.
8. Pasta with clam sauce.
9. Shrimp francese, affectionately referred to as "The Shrimbola," accompanied by Pop's retelling of Uncle Louie Barese's mispronunciation of the word "shrimp."
10. Mom's stuffed escarole, this year featuring Gaeta olives (instead of pimento-stuffed), capers (as usual), golden raisins, pignoli nuts, less breadcrumbs and no Parmesan cheese. A new classic.
11. More champagne. Pop tells jokes we've heard a thousand times, we all die laughing, for the thousandth time.
12. Family assembles around the piano for the worst-ever (musically speaking) but perhaps funniest-ever (performance-wise) rendition of A Partridge in a Pear Tree. Spoon can barely keep up with the mayhem, but the glittering diamond on her finger inspires her to keep playing because it sparkles nicely as she plays. Merry Christmas!--S

Botch-a-Mi

At a party once when I was a kid, my grandparents got up and lip-synched to a 1950s Rosemary Clooney song called Botch-a-Mi, a cute little Italian ditty about a kiss making "everything go crazy." Ba-ba-baciami piccina! I still remember it, Pop looking every bit the classy Neopolitan, Mina grinning and blowing kisses out to us.

I thought of that today as I made Chocolate Kisses (Baci di Cioccolato), from Dolce Italiano, which has muscled its way onto my "frequent use" cookbook shelf. This stellar recipe was one of the first ones Gina de Palma created for Babbo, so they carry fond memories for her. Baci means "kisses" in Italian, and here two chocolate cookies are sandwiched with a kiss of chocolate ganache. They're pretty superb. The cookies have chopped almonds and amaretto (my addition, in lieu of dark rum). I made a batch for Fork's family, and after tasting one, I knew I had to make more. The second batch are cooling now. Pucker up!--S

For Good Crack, You Must Have Patience

So about that brittle. It didn't work out so well. I let it sit for a half hour, but it wasn't quite hard... so I let it sit another half hour. And then an hour. And another hour. And the brittle remained, well, not brittle at all. I slid a small metal spatula underneath the nuts and sugar, and was able to flick up bits of it, bits that were quite tasty--after all, what's not to like about nuts, sugar and butter? But it was kind of soft, and a far cry from that break-your-teeth confection known as nut brittle.

I gave it a second go last night, and am happy to report: success! It was a mere case of impatience that kept me from cracking the brittle. When you're making nut brittle, you need to heat the caramel (made of sugar, corn syrup and butter) to 300 degrees. On my first go-round, the temperature hovered around 230 degrees (according to my thermometer, the correct temp for a "soft ball"), and after 10 or so minutes, I figured my thermometer was broken and mixed in the nuts. Soft ball is what I wound up with. So last night, I took the advice of The Wednesday Chef and resigned myself to sit tight, and what do you know? The thermometer hovered at 230 for awhile, but then it began inching up, and up, and up--until it reached 300 ("hard crack," says my thermometer).

Fork stepped in to help, and we quickly mixed in baking soda and nuts, and then poured it onto a baking sheet. They should call this stage of caramel "fast hard crack," because within 30 seconds the stuff was solid. I snapped a wooden spoon in half trying to spread it around the baking sheet. But no matter, we spread it enough--and, ta da! Real, snappy brittle! Give me patience, indeed.--S

Best Biscotti

Christmas cookies of the cookie-cutter variety are cute and all, but to me, the best sweet bites of the season are biscotti. I grew up eating my family's version, which have walnuts, anise seed, anisette or sambucco, and a hint of almond extract. They're a little soft and crumbly, not too sweet and shaped a bit like rounded rectangles. A far cry from the long, skinny and rock hard versions they serve at Starbucks. I once gave some to my building's doorman and he told me they were "Delicious! They taste like something imported!"

While the family's biscotti are still my favorite, I have branched out to try many other varieties over the years, with varying degrees of success. This year I went to one of my new favorite cookbooks, Dolce Italiano, by Gina De Palma, and tested out the Mosaic Biscotti, and the Polenta and Sesame Biscotti. I'm pleased with both, though I'm partial to the polenta/sesame ones. The Mosaic Biscotti are a riot of nuts and chocolate, containing semisweet chocolate bits, and chopped hazelnuts and pistachios. They're a substantial cookie. Next time, I'd chop the chocolate into smaller pieces; the chunks I used melted into blobs that lend more of a homemade than dainty look to the biscotti. But they do taste pretty yummy. The Polenta and Sesame Biscotti, on the other hand, are, to me, the perfect biscotti. As De Palma says, sesame seeds and cornmeal are a fantastic combination. The cookies are light and lovely, with a tender-crisp texture and bright interior. A definite keeper.

I also made a batch of nut brittle to give my grandparents--they love this stuff. It's Best-Ever Nut Brittle from December's Food & Wine, and it looks pretty sweet.--S

Hold the Special Toppings, Please

Totonno's, we're through. Two months ago, we had the traumatic experience of digging in to our Totonno's house salad and finding a fully intact rubber glove balled up like a piece of lettuce. Gag reflex, anyone? Horrified, we called the restaurant, who sent a delivery boy over to retrieve the evidence.

After a period of culinary therapy, we decided to give our favorite pizza another shot this week. The manager got on the phone and sounded curt and annoyed but agreed we were owed salad. Which, this time, was free of detritus. Halfway into fork's first slice of pizza, however, a bite yielded a loud snap, and out with small piece of tooth, came a hard piece of plastic. We're not sure what it is, but it isn't food. And one thing for sure, Totonno's on Second Avenue in Manhattan has problems in the kitchen. Too bad, too. We loved the place and ordered regularly. But we're in the market for a new pizza. Totonno's it was grand, but you suck.

Only 13 More Baking Days

While other girls were roaming the streets of Soho Friday evening looking for perfect gifts for friends and family, my friend Kate and I had a much better plan. Holed up in my apartment with a bottle of wine and Vietnamese takeout, we churned out some 20 dozen cookies. We soldiered on long after the last downtown boutique had closed, 'till the last cookie was cooled and nestled amid parchment paper in a freezer-safe tupperware box. Kate hopped into a cab around 1AM, laden with two big bags of homemade goodies that will go to some very lucky gift recipients.

I'm going to take the liberty of rating the contenders:

1. Trios
Thumbprint cookies times three: you form each cookie into a tiny threesome that showcases three different jams: raspberry, apricot and strawberry. These babies were work, but they were worth it; our faves for looks alone (never mind that Fork thinks they look like zygotes).

2. Monster Cookies
Leave it to Paula Deen: this recipe involved a half-dozen eggs, 2 cups of sugar, a pound and a half of peanut butter, 2 sticks of butter, 9 cups of oatmeal, and vast quantities of mini M&M's, chocolate chips and raisins. No flour (they ARE low-carb, after all). Kate made the dough in an 8-quart pasta pot since I didn't have a bowl big enough, and got quite a workout stirring it. The result: totally over-the-top and delicious.

3. Peppermint Patties
A cookie, not a candy, essentially a homemade version of the classic foil-wrapped York Peppermint Patty. These were labor-intensive and not entirely worth it, though they taste pretty good.

4. Gingerbread People
The jury's still out, since this dough is still in my freezer awaiting its formation into gingerbread moms, dads and kids. But our use of blackstrap molasses resulted in some very dark cookie dough that may or may not be reminsicent of something you don't want to eat. More to come on that.--S

Care for Some Meat with Your Potatoes?

After spending Thanksgiving in China, I returned to New York with a suitcase full of tea and cashmere scarves, while Fork returned from a visit to his family lugging winter vegetables and meats courtesy of the wilds of upstate New York. Stocked with cashmere, chrysanthemum tea, butternut squash, potatoes and venison, my apartment is ready to battle winter.

About the vegetables. I have a feeling Fork's mom may have genetically engingeered these things. The butternut squash probably weigh a hefty four pounds each. Suffering from jet lag one morning, I chopped one up and roasted half of it for Roasted Butternut Squash Muffins. The recipe was labor-intensive, although at 3:30 AM, I was in no rush. Steps included roasting the squash, making applesauce, simmering apple cider down from two cups to a quarter-cup, and whipping the egg whites separately from the yolks. But the muffins were delicious: they had a nice crusty top and weren't overly sweet. They were even a little healthy, thanks to the sprouted flour I used. The rest of the squash found its way into Butternut Squash Soup, which we enjoyed with a dollop of sour cream and spicy toasted pumpkin seeds.

If the squash are on the big side, the potatoes are positively freakish. One is about as big as the butternut squash. Fork took on the mammoth task of twice-baking one of them, and the result was enough to serve six. And since we needed just a little meat with our potatoes, jerk-seasoned venison stood in as a commendable side. Fork will expound on his experiences with the potatoes and venison momentarily.

Fortified and ready for winter!--S

Spoon Goes to China

The fortune cookie that accompanied my meal on the flight read "It could be better, but it's good enough." It was certainly an optimistic view of the awful food they served as we soared over half the world en route from Newark to Beijing. I worried: will I have to adapt this motto as I eat my way around China for the next 10 days? Seven days in, I'm happy to report: bu!

Despite a few missteps, the food I've had in China so far has largely been excellent. Every meal features at least three vegetables, one of which is often baby bok choi. There are flashes of familiarity--something approximating kung pow chicken, the occasional steamed dumpling--but other apparent staples here are completely new to me, like spicy green beans, which have appeared at our tables numerous times, each time better than the last.

Those green beans were a part of a mult-course feast at the beautiful South Beauty in Shanghai, where we noshed on lotus root stuffed with sticky rice, spicy chicken stuffed inside baby pumpkins, shark fin soup, and even a Chinese take on foie gras. We ate with a group of Chinese people I was introduced to through a friend, and laughed our way through the cultural differences between China and the West. Who knew they eat their rice after the meal?

The green beans also showed up yesterday, when we asked our driver to take us to a good local restaurant after trekking up and down the Great Wall at Mutianyu. It was a roadside cafe of sorts, and my friends and I were the only Westerners there. The food was delicious: crispy fried fish, a revelatory eggplant in a tangy brown sauce, spicy chicken with peanuts and of course those green beans. And the meal was punctuated with fireworks! No matter that it was the middle afternoon, and not a holiday. How festive!

Speaking of, it's already Thanksgiving here--and we're getting ready to stage a full-blown American feast over here in Beijing. Should be interesting!--S

Tortellini Soup

Still working out the last remains of soreness in my quads and trying to prevent a scratchy throat from becoming a full-blown cold before my big trip on Thursday, I wanted a simple dinner tonight. Italian White Bean, Pancetta, and Tortellini Soup was calling my name.

It's a recipe from Giada DeLaurentiis's Everyday Pasta. Very simple, very tasty. My yoga class ended at 7:45 PM, by 8 I was at the supermarket buying escarole, cannellini beans, chicken broth and pancetta, and at 8:40 Fork and I were slurping down some very delicious soup. It's filling but not heavy, with leaves of wilted escarole (which I used instead of Swiss chard) swirled throughout. We sprinkled it with grated Parmesan, more for effect than out of necessity, since the pancetta and little hats of cheese-stuffed pasta added just the right amount of flavor.--S

Italian White Bean, Pancetta, and Tortellini Soup
4 to 6 servings

3 T olive oil
4 ounces pancetta, chopped
3 large shallots, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 (15-oz) can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
4 c chopped Swiss chard or escarole (1 bunch)
6 c low-sodium chicken broth
1 (9-oz) package cheese tortellini, fresh or frozen
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper

1. In a large, heavy soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the pancetta, shallots, carrot, and garlic and cook until the pancetta is crisp, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the beans, Swiss chard (or escarole), and broth.
2. Bring the soup to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Add the tortellini and cook 5 minutes for fresh, 8 minutes for frozen, or until just tender. Season with pepper and serve.

Recipe courtesy of Everyday Pasta

Let the Carbo-Loading Begin!

I've always poo-pooed the marathon eve group pasta dinner, snobbily casting it off as something for out-of-towners and people who eat jarred sauce. I imagined an unappetizing buffet of lukewarm, gummy, not-ribbed ziti, thin sauce pooled around it. I mean, how can they possibly make pasta for 39,000 people taste good?

In the words of my dear Aunt Mimi, I don't know how they make it, but they make it. Because tonight, on the eve of my fourth marathon, I decided to join the masses at the Barilla Marathon Eve Dinner at Tavern on the Green. And guess what? It was actually pretty good.

Some parts of the meal were stronger than others: the salad was overdressed and soggy, and the bowties in the cold pasta salad were too al dente. But the main pastas--gemelli in marinara sauce with mushrooms, and cellentani (corkscrew-shaped pasta) with peas and little bits of sausage--were very tasty. The pasta was hot and the pans were replenished frequently. Lest we forget who was paying for dinner, the tables were decorated with boxes of Barilla pasta, as well as lots of large bottles of Poland Spring.

And for dessert, one of my all-time favorites from the grocery store cookie aisle: Stella D'Oro Breakfast Treats. Not too sweet and just the thing to keep the carbo-loading going. Here's to a great run tomorrow.--S

The Great White Bean

One of my favorite soups to make is so not fancy. But it's so tasty. It's a kind of spin on escarole and bean soup (or "schcadole" and bean soup, if you're around my family), beefed up with sausage and finished with a drizzle of red wine vinegar. This last touch might suggest fanciness, but I don't buy it.

The recipe is for White Bean Soup with Sausage and Collards, but I substitute chopped spinach for the collards. Escarole would work, too. Best eaten with some crusty bread, the soup is easy to make and freezes well. And you can keep almost all the ingredients in your freezer, making this dish a primo candidate for bad weather when you don't feel like going to the store. Fork and I like it very much and eat it about once a month in the fall and winter. Make some today and save your fancy food for another night.--S

White Bean Soup with Sausage and Collards

serves 4

1 package (12 oz) frozen bulk sausage, thawed and crumbled
1 medium onion, chopped
2 packages (10 oz each) frozen chopped collard greens, unthawed
2 cans (15.5 oz each) cannellini beans, drained, rinsed, and slightly mashed
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1 T red-wine vinegar (optional)
Slices of toasted French bread (optional)

1. Cook sausage and onion in a large saucepan over medium heat, covered, stirring occasionally, until fat renders, 8 to 10 minutes. Uncover and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until browned, 5 to 7 minutes more. (If bottom of pan starts to burn in spots, sprinkle with water and scrape up blackened bits.)
2. Add greens, beans, and 4 cups water; season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer until soup is slightly thickened, 5 to 7 minutes. Adjust consistency of soup with water, if necessary. Stir in red-wine vinegar, and serve with toasted bread slices, if desired.

Recipe courtesy of Everyday Food

Super Power

Go ahead and roll your eyes: I made my own granola bars. Do-It-Yourself Power Bars, actually. I need to find something to do with my time now that I'm in the dreaded taper period of marathon training. And while I'll gladly tear into a PowerBar after an 18-mile run, the fact remains: they taste like crap.

Not so for these delicious homemade treats. The recipe is from Heidi Swanson's beautiful Super Natural Cooking, and calls for tasty ingredients like dried cranberries, toasted walnuts and candied ginger. The method is easy and similar to making granola. You stir together all the dry ingredients, simmer the liquid ones, and then mix the two.

I will not be making my own Gatorade or knitting my own running socks anytime soon, but could somebody hand me one of these DIY Power Bars somewhere along 1st Avenue?--S

Do-It-Yourself Power Bars

1 T coconut oil (I used grapeseed oil; it's just to grease the pan)
1 1/4 c rolled oats
1 1/4 c walnuts (toasted and chopped)
1/2 c oat bran
1 1/2 c crisped brown rice cereal
1 c dried cranberries, coarsely chopped
3 T finely chopped crystallized ginger
1 c brown rice syrup
1/4 c unrefined cane sugar
1 t pure vanilla extract
1/2 t fine grain sea salt

1. Grease a 9" x 13" baking pan with the oil (I used an 8" x 8" pan so I'd have thicker bars).
2. In a bowl gather the next seven dry ingredients.
3. In a small saucepan stir together the remaining ingredients over a medium heat until they start to bubble and boil and thicken slightly (about 4 min.).
4. Pour the hot liquid in with the dry ingredients and mix until they are fully coated in the syrup.
5. Press down the mixture in the baking pan and leave to cool. (I coated a spatula with nonstick spray to pat down the mixture because it's very sticky.)
6. Cut into bars before serving

Recipe courtesy of Super Natural Cooking

He's Still an Asshole, but...

Gordon Ramsay has been a guilty pleasure of mine ever since my friend (and my drummer's best friend) Jess Cabo, a superstar in her own right, made it deep into the first season of Hell's Kitchen. Ramsay has made a living out of being an asshole...and I dig it! I especially love Kitchen Nightmares on BBC America, where I saw Ramsay make this simple Broccoli Soup using just broccoli, water and a bit of salt. Being a man of odd tastes (broccoli, Gordon Ramsay, need I say more?) I mentioned it to Spoon, who whipped it up tonight, dressing it, at Ramsay's suggestion, with a dollop of goat cheese.--F

I was a little skeptical--I like broccoli and am all for healthy soups, but broccoli soup? Cream of Broccoli, ok, but this sounded like a broccoli dish that backfired. But I love Fork a lot so I figured what the heck, worst case scenario we order Chinese and he does the dishes. Well, after making the soup and wiping a big bowl of it clean, we should rename this dish, because the ho-hum moniker really does not do it justice. It had the perfect consistency, and if you follow Ramsay's instructions--salt the water, salt the broccoli once it's in the water, and check for possible resalting once it's blended, the result is nicely seasoned and flavorful. And it's so simple. Three ingredients at its most basic, and that's including water and salt. With a new name, this soup might just make take off into more people's regular rotation.

Fork suggested we name it in honor of Ramsay himself: Asshole Soup. I think not.--S

Broccoli Soup

2 heads of very fresh broccoli
Kosher salt to taste
Olive oil, for garnish (optional)
Goat cheese, for garnish (optional)

1. Cut the florets off the heads of broccoli. Cut the stems into similarly sized pieces. Add all of the broccoli--florets and stems--into a large pot of rapidly boiling, salted water (2 tablespoons salt in 5 quarts of water). Cover and cook 3 1/2 to 4 minutes.
2. Using a slotted spoon, put the cooked broccoli pieces into a blender. Fill blender about halfway with cooking liquid. Blend carefully since it's hot. Add more cooking liquid as necessary to achieve the desired consistency. Check seasonings.
3. If desired, add cheese (goat cheese or cheddar cheese) to the bottom of the bowl before pouring the soup in. Serve, drizzled with olive oil if you would like.

Recipe courtesy of Gordon Ramsay

What Workers Want

Yesterday's 20-mile run signaled the beginning of the end of my marathon training, and I've decided to spend much of the next three low(er)-mileage weeks baking goodies for the generous people I work with who've made donations on my behalf to Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. People don't necessarily like parting with their hard-earned cash, but give them a worthy cause and the promise of homemade cookies, and watch how quickly they whip out their checkbooks.

Today I made three different cookies to stash in my freezer until I bring them to work the day after the marathon: Lenox Almond Biscotti from Dorie Greenspan's Baking, Flourless Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip Cookies from The Bon Appetit Cookbook, and Chocolate Toffee Butter Cookies from Cook's Country by way of Aunt Betty.

The biscotti and peanut butter cookies are part of my standard baking repertoire. I call on Greenspan's biscotti recipe when I want a light, crispy biscotti--the addition of cornmeal gives them a fabulous crunch. They're for the dieters in the office, as well as those who aren't big on sweet stuff. The peanut butter cookies are rich and delicious. Enhanced by a glass of milk, they are no-brainers for the traditionalists.

But with their impressive chocolate-nut covering, the Chocolate Toffee Butter Cookies will probably be the crowd pleasers. People love gooey stuff. However, these are no mere gloppy squares. The pecans on top are toasted, to intensify their flavor. The cookie dough is enriched with Heath toffee bits, which add additional crunch and boost the flavor of the dough's brown sugar. And they've got pretty drizzled patterns on top.

My money's on the toffee cookies to be the first to go.--S

Chocolate Toffee Butter Cookies

makes 5 dozen cookies

2 1/3 c all-purpose flour
1/2 t baking powder
1/2 t salt
16 T (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened by still cool
1 c packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 t vanilla extract
1 c Health Toffee Bits (without chocolate)
1 1/2 c semisweet chocolate chips
1 T vegetable oil
2/3 c pecans, toasted and chopped fine

1. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt together. With electric mixer, beat butter and brown sugar on medium speed until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add egg and vanilla and beat until combined, about 30 seconds. Reduce speed to low, add flour mixture in two batches, and mix until incorporated. Stir in toffee bits. Divide dough in half and roll each piece into log about 9 in. long and 1 1/2 in. in diameter. Flatten logs until 2 1/2 in. wide. Wrap and refrigerate until firm, about 1 1/2 hrs.
2. Adjust oven racks to upper-middle and lower-middle positions and heat oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
3. Using chef's knife, cut dough into 1/2-in. slices; transfer to baking sheets, spacing 1 in. apart. Bake until just browned around edges, 10 to 12 minutes, rotating rack position and direction of baking sheets halfway through baking time. Cool cookies completely on baking sheets. Use remaining dough to make second batch of cookies.
4. Transfer baked cookies to wire rack set in baking sheet. Melt chocolate and mix with oil in bowl until smooth. Dip part of each cookie into melted chocolate or drizzle chocolate over cookies with spoon. Sprinkle pecans over cookies. Don't touch until chocolate sets, about 1 hr.

Recipe courtesy of Cook's Country

The Sum of Its Parts

DIM SUM GO GO
5 East Broadway
New York, NY 10038
Tel 212.732.0797

TWO SPORKS

Dim Sum Go Go may not have the signature clattering carts or raucous atmosphere of a typical New York dim sum restaurant, but it's no less of an authentic experience. It's Chinatown's first nouvelle dim sum joint, with a hip-minimalist dining room, helpful service, and some amazing dumplings. So that's where we headed when my mom--who can make a marinara sauce in her sleep and assists chefs at cooking classes in her free time--told me she wanted to have dim sum for her birthday.

Our waiter led us through the paper menu, helping me tick off two of these and two of that with a stubby little pencil. Within minutes, Mom, Dad, Aunt Ann, Uncle Roly, Fork and I were enjoying Tsingtao beers and watching the staff carry towers of bamboo steamer baskets filled with delicious dim sum to our table. The pork buns landed first, and we all bit in to our own simultaneously, oohs and aahs erupting: the hot, baked buns filled with roasted pork were "a home run," my dad declared.

Next, fried rolls containing shrimp and mango, light and fresh. And then, the dumplings, beautiful little rounds bursting with flavor. The meat offerings included shredded duck with ginger, pork and shrimp mixed together, shrimp and chive (a crowd favorite), seafood dotted with black sesame seeds, and crabmeat wrapped in green spinach dough. On the vegetarian side there were Jade Dumplings, stuffed with asparagus and ginger; and Abbot's Delight, with shredded carrot, jicama and cabbage. We dipped these delicacies in a variety of tasty sauces: wine vinegar-garlic, chili, and ginger-scallion. By this point, we were in full-on dim sum mode. Forget our initial plan to start with dim sum and move to traditional entrees. More dumplings! We stopped momentarily to contemplate how wonderful and non-greasy everything was, and then consulted with our waiter for round two.

This time we sampled little meatballs and pork wrapped in bean curd. Both were excellent. We also tried the pumpkin cake (our waiter's favorite dish), which added a delightfully sweet note to the savory menu; and the chicken and sticky rice in lotus leaf, which wins the evening's Most Dramatic Presentation award. After unwrapping two layers of leaves, we found a rectangle of very sticky rice. Tucked in the middle of the rice: a bundle of richly-flavored roasted chicken.

The dumplings' paper-thin skins meant you ate more filling than doughy exterior, and the fresh flavors and lack of heavy MSG left us feeling sated but not stuffed. So go, go to Dim Sum Go Go!--S