Archive for the 'one dish' Category
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?
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September 02 2009 | one dish and vegetarian | 11 Comments »
Oh yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.
Yes.
Seriously, yes.
Sweet Potato Aloo Gobi
Aloo (potatoes) gobi (cauliflower) is a potato-cauliflower curry; this version, inspired by Bal Arneson’s beautiful new cookbook, Everyday Indian, uses sweet potatoes for a flavour and nutritional boost. (Use the larger, darker-fleshed sweet potatoes rather than those that are longer, thinner and paler-fleshed.) The tomatoes melt around the sweet potatoes and cauliflower, mingling with the spices and creating a sticky-sweet, smoky almost-sauce.
generous drizzle of canola or olive oil
1 medium head cauliflower, separated into florets
1 onion, finely chopped
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
1 Tbsp. garam masala
2 tsp. ground cumin or 1 Tbsp. cumin seeds
2 tsp. chili powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2-3 medium-large tomatoes, chopped
1 large sweet potato, peeled and diced
Preheat the oven to 425°F. Drizzle a rimmed baking sheet with oil and spread the cauliflower out in a single layer; drizzle with a little more oil and toss the cauliflower around with your hands to coat the pieces. Roast for 10-15 minutes, until tender and golden on the bottoms and edges.
Meanwhile, heat a generous drizzle of oil in a large, heavy skillet. Add the onion and cook for a few minutes, until starting to soften. Add the ginger, garam masala, cumin, chili powder and salt and cook for a minute, then add the tomatoes and potato. Stir to combine everything well, pour 1/2 cup water over top and cover with a lid; reduce the heat to medium-low and cook until the sweet potatoes are tender – about 7 minutes.
Add the roasted cauliflower to the pan and stir to combine everything well. Serve immediately, as is, with rice or naan.
Serves 4.
One Year Ago: Upside-Down Pear Gingerbread
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May 19 2009 | eating out and one dish and sweet stuff and veg and vegetarian | 35 Comments »
Tonight we went to a barbecue. It was supposed to be a bocce barbecue, but the wind picked up and by the time we finished our roast beef, salmon, potatoes, salad, and Thai prawns in spicy coconut milk with chilies and bits of tomato, onion and cilantro and sourdough bread to mop up the broth, we wussed out and packed it all inside to drink wine around the table and listen to 80s music over coconut-lemon bars and brownies.
Soon enough John Cusack came up in conversation. At which point it was revealed that V, whom I must make a point of getting to know better – much better – perhaps she’s in the market for a new best friend? – lived in the Chelsea Hotel in New York in the 80s and actually hung out with John and his sister. (What a bonus wedding present that would be, hey? Joan Cusack for a sister in law? Could the package really get any better?)
But wait, it gets better. She went to see Pretty in Pink with him. He called her and asked her to go, even. John Cusack called and invited her to a movie. It was the advance screening, at which they showed an alternate ending in which Andie (Molly Ringwald) ends up with Duckie (Jon Cryer) instead. It was the one they both voted for, but I guess the consensus was that she live happily ever after in cinematic history with Blane (Andrew McCarthy). So I’m sitting there eating brownies with someone who went to see Pretty in Pink with John Cusack, for real and true. I touched her as much as I could subtly get away with sitting casually next to her at the table. I’m down to two degrees of separation now. It’s a good thing I have size 11 feet – they do come in handy when I need that extra reach.
(In case you’re wondering the same thing I was, I did ask why she didn’t end up with him, and she said it was because she already had a boyfriend; one of the Kids in the Hall.)
So this all came up about three hours ago, and since then I’ve had a bit of fuzzy feedback in my brain that sort of flushes out all other information, both coming and going. So I’m afraid I can’t really relay much in the way of May long weekend goings-on thus far. I just need to have some time to settle down with it, to ponder how a girl not much older than I ended up leaving Calgary for New York and doing laundry with Iggy Pop and his wife in the laundry room of the Chelsea, going to see Pretty in Pink with John Cusack, and then wound up at a patio table with me, laughing at W when he came out of the house pantsless to ask one of us to wipe his bum. Sometimes I’m just so blown away by the possibility of it all.
I will, however, tell you about a chick pea-asparagus-brown rice dish I made last week and again yesterday afternoon, and which I will undoubtedly make again. I had a big bunch of asparagus, and I have to say I’m a little bit done with asparagus – it was completely uninspiring and going south quickly in the fridge while I summed up the gumption to do something with it. So I moseyed on over to 101 Cookbooks and typed in “asparagus” – it’s like the grown-up version of shaking the magic 8 ball – always interesting to see what pops up. Ten Minute Tasty Asparagus and Brown Rice. It lived up to its name, and then some.
I did streamline it a little, and skilleted everything separately in order to really brown and caramelize it all. Yum. I can tell this is going to make it into my regular rotation. (If I have one?) I’d definitely make a batch for John, if he ever asked me to.
Stir-Fried Chickpeas and Asparagus with Brown Rice and Lemon Tahini Dressing
adapted from 101 Cookbooks
a drizzle of canola or olive oil
1 19 oz. (540 mL) can chickpeas, drained well
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 onion, chopped
1/2 bunch asparagus, cut into 1″ pieces
2-3 cups precooked brown rice (cold rice fries up better, with separate grains instead of turning pasty)
1/2 cup sliced or slivered almonds, toasted
Tahini Dressing:
1/4 cup tahini
juice of 1 lemon (or 2-3 tablespoons)
2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp. hot water
1 garlic clove, finely crushed
pinch salt
To make the dressing, shake everything up in a jar. Depending on how much you like, you may have enough for a second batch of chickpeas with asparagus.
Heat a generous drizzle of oil in a skillet set over medium-high heat; add the chick peas and cook for a few minutes, until they start turning golden. They will sputter and pop as they cook. Add the garlic and a bit of salt and cook until they are nicely golden and getting crispy. Transfer to a shallow bowl.
Add the onions to the pan, along with a little more oil if you need it. Cook for 4-5 minutes, until golden. Add the asparagus to the pan and cook for a minute or two, putting the lid on the pan if it helps, just to allow the asparagus to brighten and soften a bit. Dump that into the bowl with the chickpeas.
Add another slick of oil to the skillet and cook the rice for a few minutes, just to warm it through and brown it a bit as well. Add the chickpeas, onions and asparagus back to the pan and toss it around to warm it all through, then divvy it among bowls and sprinkle with almonds. Drizzle with a bit of the tahini dressing, and pass more at the table.
Serves 4.
One Year Ago: Maple-Rosemary Pork Satay and Berry Crumble Cake
May 17 2009 | beans and one dish and vegetarian | 23 Comments »
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