Archive for the 'one dish' Category
Have I shown off my garden yet? I’m loaded – with spinach and chard, that is – between the CSA box and the boxes in my back yard, I should have X-ray vision or some such superpower by the end of the summer. Which is coming up all too quickly.
I punched “chard” into the search box on Epicurious the other day, looking for more inspiration (but really just procrastinating), and these frittata bites jumped out – they suggest cold squares for a cocktail party. I wound up doing my own thing, but kept the sausage-chard-feta combo, and it was loved by all. (Except W, who struggled unsuccessfully to separate the green stuff from the rest.) Bonus: two huge bunches of chard went into this – it always amazes me how small it gets once it wilts. You could cook a bunch down to a spoonful and just eat it, like a real-food vitamin pill.
Chard, Sausage and Feta Frittata
canola or olive oil, for cooking
1 small onion or half a purple one
2-3 large sausages (I used Winter’s Turkeys sausages)
1-2 bunches chard, ribs removed and leaves roughly chopped or torn
8 large eggs
1/4 cup milk
salt & pepper
1 cup crumbled feta
Preheat oven to 350°F. In a large ovenproof skillet (cast iron is perfect!) heat a drizzle of oil and cook the onion over medium-high heat for a few minutes, until starting to soften. Squeeze the sausage out of its casing into the skillet and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until no longer pink. Transfer to a bowl and add another drizzle of oil (if you need it) then add the chard to the pan – if you’ve washed it, the moisture clinging to the leaves should provide enough moisture – and cook for a few minutes, until it wilts. Add the sausage and onion back to the pan.
Whisk eggs, milk, salt and pepper. Stir in the cheese and pour over the meat and veg in the pan. Turn the heat to medium-low and cook for a few minutes, until it’s starting to set around the edges and on the bottom. Transfer to the oven and cook for about 10 minutes, until cooked through and golden on top. (Alternatively you could stir the lot together, pour it into a buttered baking dish and bake for 40-45 minutes, until set.)
Serve warm, in wedges, or cold in squares. Leftovers make great sandwich filling. Serves 8.
One Year Ago: Browned-Butter Blueberry Muffins (made with saskatoons)
August 24 2010 | appetizers and eggs and one dish | 16 Comments »
This was actually dinner last night. Tonight W had his two cousins over for their first! sleepover! ever! And I doubt a vegetable curry would have gone over well. They played trains, and Mouse Trap, and played with bubble wrap, and we biked to the store for a movie and then went to the ice cream shop for some MacKays. We had pillow fights and popcorn, and grilled a plain old steak, straight-up, for dinner with new potatoes, carrots and peas from the CSA box. Sounds downright wholesome, don’t it?
For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about when I refer to my CSA box, I’d love to tell you about it – I’m hoping that soon CSA will be as common a household term as Costco or superstore.
CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture – it’s a great arrangement that allows consumers (eaters) to connect more directly with (and more directly support) the source of their food. In a CSA relationship, the eater supports the farmer directly by buying a share of his or her crop at the beginning of the growing season. This guarantees a market for the farmers’ produce while covering the expense of planting early on, when it’s most needed. Members typically buy half shares (enough for 2-3 people) or whole shares (enough for a family of 4-5). It’s a direct way of sustainably supporting the existence of a small family farm, and getting to personally know who’s growing your food.
Over the course of the summer and fall (or the length of the growing season), CSA members typically receive weekly boxes of produce containing a share of the crop – most often fresh produce but often eggs, dairy and meat as well – dropped off and picked up at a prearranged location. For us, every Thursday between 5 and 7 we pop by the parking lot at the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Community Association, conveniently located across from Riley park (that has a wading pool!) and pick up our share – ours is a full share, and it about fills two shopping crates. It has become the highlight of the boys’ week to come and each pick one item from each box – white potatoes, purple potatoes, pink potatoes, summer squash (yellow zucchini and pattypan), tomatoes, onions, green onions, chard, lettuces, radishes, peas, and their favourite carrots, which they eat in the car on the way home.
Some CSAs send out weekly newsletters with photos and updates on the current crop. There is also often the option to go help out on your CSA farm – a great experience for anyone who wants to learn hands-on gardening skills or would like their kids to see exactly where their food is coming from. John, the owner (with his dad) of the farm we support, was telling me yesterday how thrilled he is with this new arrangement (in his twenties, he’s part of a new generation of Alberta farmer taking over the family farm – something not enough of the next generation are willing to do these days). This is his first year running a CSA. He says it’s far more efficient than the farmers’ markets as he knows exactly what’s being picked up and doesn’t have to guess at quantities nor haul the remainder home after a disappointing turnout (bad weather can affect weekly markets). Of course there isn’t any overhead either when all you’re doing is pulling into an empty parking lot once a week.
Our CSA is Eagle Creek Farms, in Bowden. But there are others in the Calgary area – Thompson Small Farm in Carbon, Blue Mountain Biodynamic Farm in Carstairs and Oxyoke Farms, in Linden. Of course they’re all booked up for this season, but it doesn’t hurt to connect now and perhaps even put your name on the list for next year. I know John has had a ton of interest for next spring already. For more information and a full list of Alberta CSAs, visit www.csaalberta.com.
Right – the curry. It was a ploy to get rid of the last of last week’s boxes before (or in this case immediately after) picking up this week’s. I chopped sweet onions, garlic scapes, a pepper (not from the box yet), yellow zucchini and chard, and at the last minute tossed in the remains of some flaked fish I used for a fish taco photo yesterday afternoon. Really – all you need to do to make a pretty smashing curry is saute whatever veg you like with a good glob of grated ginger and garlic, a spoonful of curry paste and a can of coconut milk poured in once the veg are soft and starting to turn golden on the edges – this means there are browned bits in the bottom of the pan, too, and the coconut milk will help you get them all up. If you want to add a spoonful of chutney – mango or otherwise – go for it.
Big ol’ Curry
If you really need a recipe, here you go. Curry is a great cupboard cleaner – curries are great with potatoes (plain or sweet), zucchini, spinach, onions, lentils, beans, peppers, kale, chard, cauliflower… and bottled curry paste and canned coconut milk make the sauce easy. If you’re using light coconut milk and want to boost the coconut flavor even further without adding extra fat, add a teaspoon of coconut extract. Serve over steamed rice.
canola or olive oil, for cooking
2 onions, peeled, halved and thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, crushed
2 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
1-3 cups chopped fresh veg – any kind you like
2-3 tsp. curry paste
1/2 tsp. ground cumin or cumin seed (optional)
1/4 tsp. salt
1 14 oz (398 mL) can coconut milk, regular or light
A couple handfuls fresh spinach, chard or kale, chopped (remove the stems)
chopped peanuts or torn cilantro, to sprinkle on top (optional)
In a large skillet set over medium-high heat, sauté the onions in a drizzle of oil for 2-3 minutes, until soft. Add the garlic and ginger and cook for another minute.
Add any firm veg you’re using, such as potatoes or cauliflower, and cook them for a few minutes, until they soften and start to turn golden on the edges. Add the remaining vegetables along with the curry paste, cumin, salt and coconut milk and bring the mixture to a simmer. Stir in the chutney, if you’re using it, and cook for about 5 more minutes, until the sauce thickens and the vegetables are tender. (How long you cook it all will depend on the veg you use and how big the pieces are.)
Season with salt and pepper. Stir in the spinach and cook for a minute, just until it wilts. Serve immediately over rice with chopped peanuts and/or cilantro sprinkled on top.
August 20 2010 | one dish and vegetarian | 17 Comments »
Have you ever panicked that there is just so much food and so little time? I do. Frequently.
I remember the first time I felt a pang of THERE IS JUST SO MUCH TO EAT AND ONLY SO MANY DAYS IN A WEEK AND HOURS IN A DAY! AND MONTHS IN A YEAR! EVERY DAY I HAVE TO DECIDE! I’M NOT GOING TO HAVE TIME TO EAT IT ALL! THE MATH JUST DOESN’T ADD UP! – it was triggered by a coconut cream pie. So now every time I get overwhelmed by the food possibilities out there (eating in and out), or unreasonably angry that I’ve wasted valuable space and calories on something that was not all it should be, I think of coconut cream pie. OK, not really every time. But sometimes I have my coconut cream pie moments.
I get this feeling a lot when I get sucked into the vortex of food blogs – skipping from one to the next, bookmarking stuff and taking mental notes that invariably more mental notes get loaded on top of until I go a little bit mental. Once in awhile something I see jumps the queue – this was one of them. And I had a bag of the daintiest little Canadian du puy lentils that remind me of smooth, speckled green river stones that I was dying to use.
A Gourmet recipe, it was originally titled “Fried Eggs Over Warm Lentil Salad with Lardons”, which sounds appealingly rustic and British, but of course we don’t generally use the term lardon to describe the bacon in our skillets, and because I’m trying to be a little bit less lardon I poached my eggs instead of frying them. Every little bit helps.
This was actually lunch and dinner; at 6pm I tossed the leftover lentil salad back into the skillet I had just cooked plain old pork chops in, tossing them around to warm them and get some of those flavourful bits. It made a great accompaniment; ditto pork tenderloin or roast, I’d imagine.
Poached Eggs Over Warm Lentil Salad with Bacon
Thanks again, Gourmet. (This of course has been adapted – I also tossed the spinach right in and wilted it, rather than scattering it overtop the eggs as per their instruction.) If you want to throw a peeled clove of garlic into the pot of lentils while they simmer, go right ahead.
3/4 cup dried lentils (I used little green du Puy lentils)
4 slices bacon, chopped
2 leeks (white and pale green parts only), finely chopped
2 celery ribs, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar, or to taste
1 cup baby spinach
1 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh tarragon (optional)
salt & pepper
4-8 large eggs
In a small saucepan, cover lentils with about twice as much water, bring to a simmer and cook uncovered for about 30 minutes, or until just tender. (You can do this ahead of time and keep them in the fridge until you’re ready for them.)
While the lentils are simmering, cook the bacon until crisp in a large, heavy skillet; transfer with a slotted spoon to a plate, leaving the drippings in the skillet. (If you like, pour them out and add a drizzle of canola or olive oil.) Add the leeks, celery, and carrot and cook, stirring often, for about 5 minutes. Add vinegar and cook until it’s mostly evaporated. Drain the lentils well and add them to the skillet along with the spinach and tarragon; cook, stirring, until heated through and the spinach wilts. Season with salt and pepper and stir in the bacon.
Meanwhile, poach your eggs. Divide the warm lentil salad among 4 plates and top with the eggs. Serves 4.
One Year Ago: Roast Chicken and Hummus Wraps and Mandarin Milkshakes
January 11 2010 | beans and eggs and one dish and vegetarian | 25 Comments »
So hey, it turns out I can cook Vietnamese. Who knew?
There are some things that I have a ton of interest in eating, but none whatsoever in making. Vietnamese food falls into this category. So does Chinese food, Korean food; anything I feel like I have no authority to create. I mean besides the basics. I attempted homemade ginger beef once and for all the effort that went into it I’d rather call up the place down the street and slap down a 10 spot for them to do it for me.
Besides, the mystique is taken away when you make something yourself. Do you ever get that sense that everything you make tastes like slightly different versions of the same thing? You know what went in there, and you’re intimately familiar with the process that made it taste the way it does. I’d rather focus my energies elsewhere and leave some things up to the pros.
But then recently I had the occasion to try, and I’m so glad I was shoved out of my comfort zone. Because that’s how you learn – when you expand your horizons beyond what you already know. (Whether voluntarily or by force.)
Satay aren’t really out of my comfort zone – they’d be more accurately classified as a staple around here. But the marinade is different from my usual. I kind of winged it; using about a pound of skinless chicken thighs and cutting them across into half strips, half chunks, and then mashing them more closely together than my usual slightly graceful (if anything about me could be described as such) “S” shape. I liked it this way.
Vietnamese Chicken or Pork Satay
1-2 lb. skinless chicken thighs or pork tenderloin, cut into strips or chunks
2 Tbsp. honey or sugar
1 1/2 Tbsp. fish sauce
1 Tbsp. canola or olive oil
1 Tbsp. lime juice
2-3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 tsp. Sriracha or a pinch of dried red chili flakes
Put the chicken or pork in a bowl or ziplock bag; stir together the rest of the ingredients and pour overtop. Marinate for at least an hour, or preferably overnight.
Soak bamboo skewers in water for at least 10 minutes to prevent them from burning, and thread the meat onto them, squishing the pieces together. Grill or broil for a few minutes per side, just until cooked through.
Fried rice is one of those things I tend to go about on my own. Even when I find a recipe I’m one to ignore it, thinking I know what I’m doing, and right here is a perfect example of something I make that always comes out tasting the same, with the occasional fluctuation depending on how heavy-handed I am with the soy sauce, or whether or not I opted to add curry paste.
But this. It elicited as many oohs and aahs as I’ve received for anything that has come out of my kitchen. The first time I made it, the recipient (who shall remain anonymous to protect his reputation as a mostly generous person) didn’t even share. I think it was the seasoning – the rice vinegar and sugar and fish sauce – but wow. It’s like fried rice that really means it.
Remember – you need leftover cold rice to make a good fried rice – the time in the fridge gives the grains a chance to separate, so that they won’t clump together and get all sticky in the pan.
Vietnamese Fried Rice
This is a bit of a spinoff of one I found on Epicurious
Seasoning:
2 Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. fish sauce
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
canola or mild olive oil, for cooking
5 cups cold long-grain rice
2 large eggs, lightly beaten with a fork
big pinch dried red chili flakes
1 small bunch of green onions, chopped
1-2 large carrots, coarsely grated
1-2 garlic cloves, crushed
2 cups bean sprouts (optional)
fresh cilantro and chopped salted peanuts, for garnish
In a small bowl stir together the sugar, fish sauce and vinegar.
In a large, heavy skillet, heat a slick of oil over medium-high heat. Add the rice and cook for a few minutes, until heated through. Push over to one side and pour in the eggs; stir-fry until the eggs are scrambled, allowing them to cook without mixing them into the rice completely (so that you end up with detectable bits of egg); add the chili flakes, then the green onions, carrots and garlic; cook for a few more minutes.
Pour over the fish sauce mixture, then add the bean sprouts and cook for a minute, tossing with tongs, just until heated through. Serve immediately, in shallow bowls topped with cilantro and peanuts. Serves 4.
One Year Ago: Meatloaf, (S)Mashed Potatoes and Peas
October 20 2009 | chicken & turkey and grains and on the grill and one dish and pork | 10 Comments »
There’s this girl I know (if you count obsessively reading their blog as knowing someone) who besides being a brilliant writer and photographer, has great taste in food. And besides that, she’s at a constant trot one step ahead of me in the kitchen.
I have a running list of things I want to try, and while it’s a fluid list, with items constantly being added and falling off as I forget about them/lost interest, some have been gathering dust on that list for eons. Blueberry Boy Bait, for example, has been knocking on the door since I flipped past it in one of Nigella’s books (along with Bang Bang Turkey, which I’ve managed to scratch off my list), and she beat me to it. And I know there were others, but I forget them, and now Laurie Colwin’s Tomato-Corn Pie, which I’ve read about approximately a hundred times (Laurie’s Home Cooking and More Home Cooking take up permanent residence beside my bed – they are the epitome of comfort) and have truly meant to make every single summer since I first read MHC, but never have. Laurie describes – as part of a story about a woman named Mary O’Brien who owned a tea shop called Chaiwalla in Salisbury, Connecticut – a pie built in a biscuit crust, thickly layered with tomatoes, corn scraped from the cob, basil, chives and grated cheddar, then topped with lemon juice-spiked mayo, topped with another biscuit crust (which is rolled thin, so it’s not too doughy) and baked. Every time I see a glut of ripe tomatoes, I think to myself: I really ought to make that tomato pie. But then I don’t. Because really, if you’re going to bother making a late-summer pie from scratch, oughtn’t it be peach, cherry, or plum?
continue reading »
September 02 2009 | one dish and vegetarian | 11 Comments »
Next »
