Chicken, Fava Beans and Other Odds and Ends

Over the past few weeks, I've noticed how other food bloggers seem to have at least one entry re-capping their summers. They take a break from food for a day, and share images of sailboats, hammocks and laughing children, a little postcard to themselves and us, to help make the transition into a busy fall schedule less painful. 

But now that it's September, mid September, doing that would be a little like putting on a pair of white pants and drinking a beer at ten in the morning.

So, instead, I would like to look back at all the god awful things I made (and some pretty good things) that didn't make it into this blog. Because while I love to cook, and think I'm not all that bad at it, there are times when Chris looks at me, very tenderly, and says, "you're not going to write about this one are you?" And then lovingly eats what I've put forth. There are also other meals, splendid meals, that I was either too tired and uninspired to write about, didn't photograph well, or both.

Thank you for reading, thank you for your wonderful comments. They help keep me going when the shortcakes dry out, the greens get over cooked and the chicken would rather fling itself out the window than be subject to my Canon Power Shot camera.

No matter how many kitchen disasters you may have, keep cooking because I sure do!

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The above photo is of a meal that was quite successful. I marinated the chicken in plain yogurt, paprika, salt and garlic and broiled it until just cooked through. The potato salad was made with cilantro, red onion, celery, lemon juice, dijon mustard, olive oil, salt and pepper. These are so easy to make, and leftovers the next day, superb.

This was probably one of the worst pork chops ever cooked. It was tough and rubbery and what I had hoped would be a sauce, was instead a garlic oil spill. The peas were gently boiled and tossed with butter and chopped mint. I think they were trying to push the pork chop off the plate. The lighting is just unfortunate.

Here's an example of a meal that was almost good. My mother passed on a wonderful recipe for brick pressed chicken which I proceeded to screw up. I couldn't get the chicken done in the middle, the sauce was greasy, and although the skin looks crispy, that's in fact an optical illusion. The fava bean spread on the other hand was wonderful and came from, In the Green Kitchen with Alice Waters and the recipe is from the wonderful David Tanis. 

This was a last minute, I was so hungry I could only growl kind of meal. The zucchini pancakes were from Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking which is a wonderful book with great recipes, but these were a little bland and gummy (I'm sure this was mostly my fault). I have no memory of making mashed potatoes, and I broiled the red peppers in our toaster oven until the skin blackened, and then peeled the skin off before serving. 

Cabbage and potatoes in mustard sauce from Short-Cut Vegan by Lorna Sass is delicious and I'm not sure why I didn't write about it. You chop one cup of leeks, saute in 1tbs. olive oil, add 1 1/2 cups water and stir in 1tbs. dijon mustard (I use about 4tbs.), 2 tsp. vegetable stock powder, and salt. Bring to a boil, then add 3/4 lb. red potatoes cut into 1-inch pieces and boil for 5 minutes. Meanwhile cut 1 head of cabbage into small wedges (remove the core) and add to the potatoes with 1/3 cup water if dry (I also threw in some sliced carrots). Cook until potatoes and cabbage are tender. Add more mustard if needed and pepper to taste. 

This was also delicious and something I threw together last minute with some white rice. Saute a few cloves of garlic in a little olive oil and butter until fragrant, then add sliced mushrooms, sliced zucchini and or squash with a dash of white wine and one or two chopped tomatoes and cook until vegetables are just tender. Season with salt and pepper and some chopped basil, cook a minute longer and serve.

Omelettes are one of the easiest meals ever but I totally overcooked this one. It's hard to regulate the heat in my electric skillet (I know, excuses, excuses) and cooking delicate things like eggs is almost impossible (I will keep trying). Inside is grated gruyere cheese, with chopped chives on top, a lovely combination. A little salad and a glass of wine and you've got dinner.

These shortcakes were HORRIBLE! I won't share where they're from and will instead pledge to find a better recipe and post that. These were dry, flavorless hockey pucks which the strawberries and whipped cream even had a hard time saving. And recently I made a gingerbread cake in my rice cooker (which has a cake setting) that took one and a half hours to bake, tasted like salt licorice, and was both dry and gummy at the same time. I didn't even bother taking a photo. I think I'll stick to my toaster oven when it comes to baking.

And to end, a quote from Beckett :

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."

Fairytale Eggplant with Summer Squash

Last night as I handed over my name and phone number to a very tall and thin host at Barrio Chino, agreeing to a one and a half hour wait for a table, maybe just two seats at the bar, I realized it has been a long time since I've "gone out" in New York.

The last time my friend Ciara and I got together we went to Don Hills, a nighttime relic of the eighties clinging to it's punk rocker history, that is now, as scenes go, dead as a doornail. Just like I like it. Ciara, her friend Brian, and I danced to British Pop on an empty dance floor drinking $3 PBR's all night. It was great. No standing in line, no strange men rubbing up against you, and everyone got their own disco ball to hop and spin to.

Yesterday was different. Normally I would never wait an hour and a half for a table but Barrio Chino came with recommendations, I was craving a good margarita, and since it was just Ciara and me, we decided to grab a drink somewhere else until the call came that we were finally worthy of a seat. The night was young.

Turning the corner onto Orchard, wondering where to go, a bright and uncharacteristically cheery glow spilled out onto the dirty sidewalk. A new tequila bar! Perfect! We sat ourselves down and ordered two margaritas on the rocks. The bartender was strangely nice and even after we'd ordered, lingered, smiling at us a little more before happily getting to his mixing and shaking. Weird. Why is a Lower East Side bartender smiling? He must have moved to New York yesterday. Whatever. The service was speedy. He brought us two large, globe-like glasses filled to the top with ice, followed by another lingering smile. Looking down at our drinks we wondered if maybe we should have ordered them neat. Hello? Any Margarita in there? Ciara and I slurped and splashed our way through this never ending slushy of ice, which actually had a decent amount of booze after all, laughing and having a good time. The clock ticked on.

An hour and a half passed without a phone call and our patience for a pretentious wait list on a Tuesday night had passed, we paid our bill and decided walk back to Barrio. If they couldn't seat us we'd move on. Tequila and lime was sloshing around in our empty bellies and the evening could go South very soon without some food. "Oh", the host said, "I was just about to call you! I have two bar seats but if you want to wait just a few more minutes a table is about to open up." 

We read the menu taped to the window from the sidewalk, and tried not to faint.

Finally seated we ordered immediately. Two more margaritas, guacamole and chips, the Cornish hen rubbed with lime, jalapeno and cilantro for Ci, and the pulled lamb with green rice for me. 

The clock ticked on but you couldn't hear it from all the noise.

Twenty minutes later our drinks arrived. They were good but not worth the wait, and then about ten minutes later the guacamole appeared. The chips were delicious, thick, freshly made and lightly salted but the guacamole was more like chopped onions with a little avocado. It was very strange. So far, in the past two hours, Ciara and I had mostly eaten ice and onions. We were cranky, hoarse, and dared them to turn out a good meal.

About forty five minutes later, nearly dead, our food finally arrived. We inspected it, poked at it, and exchanged a glance that said, "if this isn't the best meal I've ever had we're walking out of here and getting ice cream".

I have to say, it was delicious. The lamb was tender and rich, filled with spicy flavor and Ciara's Cornish Hens were succulent and perfectly cooked. We softened a little. Don't get me wrong, we would never come back here, but we would go home full and a little tipsy.

What happened next was like a scene out of a horror film. It's the moment that the hot young girl, locks herself in a bathroom with the phone, 911 on the line, thinking that she's safe, and has averted danger. It's the moment when the audience tightens, sees the flash of a knife in the medicine cabinet, and can't help but scream, "Look behind you!" 

Smiling and at last blissfully happy with my meal I put a big forkful of rice into my mouth. My eyes widened. Tears began to stream down my cheeks, drool spilled out of my mouth, and a flash of heat traveled from the top of my head to my gut in a matter of seconds clearing everything in it's path. Those little orange slivers garnishing the rice were not pickled onions. They were habaneros. I must have put four or five in my mouth at once. I couldn't speak. I just stared at Ciara, mouth agape, in disbelief, my nose running like a drunk fleeing a fire. Check please!

Eating at Barrio Chino reminds me why eating at home can be so great. There is no wait, and you never have to blast your head off unless you want to! Last week I bought some fairytale eggplants from the farmers market, because who wouldn't? And made up a dish with what I had. Some eggplant, some summer squash, brown rice and a little radicchio, which in my opinion, is the dinosaur of lettuces. They last forever in the fridge.

And as for Barrio Chino, can't say I didn't warn you.

Fairytale Eggplant with Summer Squash


20 or so fairytale eggplants (or any eggplant)
1 ripe tomato, seeded and chopped
2 shallots, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1/4 cup pine nuts
2 tbs. Parmesan cheese
1 cup uncooked brown rice
eight or so radicchio leaves
five or six leaves of fresh basil, chopped
salt + pepper
Olive Oil


Cook the brown rice according to the instructions on the package. Wash and remove the tops of the eggplant, slice in half, lay in a colander and sprinkle with salt. Let sit for about half and hour to draw out some of the water. Blot the eggplant dry with a paper towel. Add the garlic and shallots to a frying pan or skillet and saute over medium heat in a few tablespoons of olive oil until soft. Add the eggplant, summer squash and tomato. Cook about fifteen minutes covered, or until everything is nice and soft and cooked all the way through. Salt if needed and toss with the basil just before serving. Meanwhile, in a toaster oven, toast the pine nuts until golden. To serve, lay a few radicchio leaves down on a plate. Spoon a little brown rice in the center, about 1/2 a cup. Then lay a good amount of the eggplant and squash over the rice, sprinkle a few tablespoons of pine nuts on top and a few pinches of Parmesan cheese. 

Lamb Kebobs and Summer Squash

Summer is almost upon us and with it comes grilling, beer, and fresh air. Charring meat over an open flame becomes as restorative as a yoga class, and a back yard in Brooklyn can feel like a country retreat. Last night I did a little cooking without a kitchen at a BBQ in Williamsburg, and kebob was the word. Here are some photos of the night's events from the prep work at home, to the grill, and finally the cab ride home. The lamb marinade is an adaptation from a Food + Wine recipe, and the garlic, onions and squash were all fresh from the farmers market. Crack open a cold one to wash it all down.

Happy Father's Day Pop. I love you.

Lamb Kebobs

3 large lamb steaks, trimmed and cut into 2" pieces

1 cup greek yogurt

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 tsp. tumeric

1/2 tsp. cayenne

small pinch ghost pepper

1 tsp. salt

2 yellow onions, cut into wedges

Lemon and butter or ghee, optional

Combine the yogurt, garlic, spices and salt in a glass bowl, add the lamb and refrigerate (overnight if you like). When ready to grill alternate two pieces of lamb and one wedge of onion on skewers. Get a nice char on all sides cooking for about 3 minutes, and then continue to cook another four. If you want to get a little fancy, during the last four minutes you can brush the kebobs with a little melted butter or ghee and a squeeze of lemon.

I also made a yogurt sauce by pureeing one cup greek yogurt, salt, pepper a few mint leaves and the juice of half a lemon. Some toasted and ground cumin seeds would be a nice addition too.

Summer Squash

1 lb. summer squash, a variety is nice

1 bunch fresh tarragon

juice of half a lemon

4 garlic cloves, minced

salt + Pepper

2 tbs. olive oil

Wash and cut the summer squash into 1" pieces. In a bowl combine the squash with the rest of the ingredients, season to taste (about 1 tsp. salt and as much black pepper as you like). Let marinate until time to cook (no need to refrigerate if only made a few hours before grilling). Skewer and cook until tender trying not to char it to a crisp.

A tipsy splurge on a cab ride home over the Williamsburg Bridge, and through the lower east side.