Archive for the 'one dish' Category
Look, I have something for you! That’s not baking, nor dessert. Something that can be called into service for barbecues and potlucks all summer long, or hang out in your fridge and wait for you to need a scoop of something real instead of a handful of chips or another piece of raisin toast. I feel like I’ve been shortchanging y’all lately, and when I was reminded of this salad – and how delicious it is – I got all tingly (as W said this morning when he woke up with his hand asleep for the first time: “it feels all sparkly, like a fuzzy peach”) – and wanted to rush home and tell you about it immediately. Of course it took me a day or two. Mostly because everybody ate it.
This is something my mom and I came up with years ago – like decades – to bring to a baby shower. I have little memory of whose (I have it narrowed down, but can’t be sure) but I do remember this salad. (Priorities.) It has orzo, and spinach, and purple onion, and lemon… we tossed things in without measuring, and when it disappeared and people asked for the recipe we figured we had better remember how we made it. The next time we used rice, and it quickly became that go-to recipe we used any time we had to bring something somewhere. Until we didn’t.
And then my mom made it on Saturday. (We had a Food Revolution Day dinner. It was great. I was so distracted by worry that there might not be enough food -there was- that I forgot my camera.)
Orzo – that slippery little pointy-ended pasta that looks like giant grains of rice – are generally overlooked as a base for a salad. (Or for anything, really. Does anyone outside of Italy cook with orzo anymore?) Its size is perfect for salads, slipping into the nooks and crannies between veggies, and never getting soggy. I highly recommend it – especially with lots of fresh spinach (it’s back in my garden already!), lemon and feta. And if you have juniors, pick up the salad bowl and bring it to the park with as many forks as there are people.
Orzo Salad with Spinach, Feta and Lemon
1 1/2 cups orzo (small rice-shaped pasta)
1 small bunch fresh spinach or half a bag of prewashed spinach
half a purple onion, finely chopped
1/2 – 1 cup crumbled feta
grated zest and juice of a lemon (about 3 Tbsp.)
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
2 Tbsp. canola or olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Cook the orzo according to the package directions; drain well, running under cool water to cool it down, then dump into a bowl.
Thinly slice your spinach: tack a bunch of leaves, roll them up tightly and slice through the whole bunch – or just tear it in with your hands. The method you choose will likely depend on the salad’s final destination. Add the onion, feta and lemon zest.
Squeeze the lemon juice over the salad, and drizzle with the rice vinegar, oil, salt and pepper. Toss to coat well. Taste it and adjust the seasonings if it needs it. Serve right away or refrigerate until you’re ready for it. Serves 4-8.
May 22 2012 | one dish and salads and vegetarian | 10 Comments »
I know it’s not quite asparagus time yet, but as a food writer I have lead time, and so generally I’m making back to school lunches before summer even arrives, and mincemeat pies on Canada Day.
Thus I have a glut of asparagus in the fridge from an asparagus story I was working on, and it is exciting to think that spring is technically here even if the green things haven’t quite caught up yet, and that these buds will be prodding their way out of the ground very soon. And when they do, we’ll be eating as many Alberta grown and snapped off by hand stalks as we can. Asparagus in its raw, natural state is surprisingly delicious – it tastes like freshly shelled peas – and it’s fabulous marinated and chilled, in a salad, dipped in hollandaise, sliced into ribbons and tossed onto a pizza.
I’ve seen shaved asparagus pizza (which triggers thoughts of a lady asparagus – dressed up Bugs Bunny-like – shaving her stalk) here and there, and yet my attempts at shaving my asparagus worked about as well as shaving my legs with an old razor in a stand-up shower. Sure, I got a few glamorous strips off, but wound up with a lot of annoying stubble. No matter; I tossed it all on the pizza with some goat cheese, purple onion and crumbled bacon in a very unladylike manner.
I never use a recipe for pizza – it’s a little like following one for a grilled cheese sandwich. Roll fresh dough out thin, any shape you like, put it on a cornmeal-dusted heavy baking sheet or some such, then spread it, top it, and bake it at 450F – the high temperature kindasorta simulates a pizza oven, which gets about twice as hot.
Yum.
April 10 2012 | one dish and sandwiches | 12 Comments »
I know you guys are all gaga over one-dish dinner ideas, and I’ve got a good one for ya. Everyone devoured this, and Mike asked if there was any way it could be put into regular rotation. It seems to me the sort of thing that might make most husbands happy, if I may generalize here.
Again, my inspiration came from desperation – to use the last of two tubs of baby spinach and some mushrooms that had not quite shriveled up and died. It could have taken a handful of grape tomatoes, or some chopped red pepper; any number of wilting veg would do well here. W always begs for cheese tortellini, one of his first toddler foods that still seems toddler-ish in my mind, but not here. It came together in under 20 minutes and the result was like an upscale Hamburger Helper of sorts. It should be noted that it took less time to prepare than HH, and didn’t come out of a box, nor was it any shade of florescent orange. It fed five of us, happily.
The recipe started here, but let’s face it – I never have fennel bulbs and fronds in my house. Too licoricey. It could, however, make use of any number of pasta-friendly ingredients.
Tortellini with Mushrooms, Spinach and Italian Sausage
1 lb pkg. fresh 3 cheese tortellini
a big spoonful (or two) of pesto
1 lb. (2-3) mild or spicy Italian sausages
2 cups sliced mushrooms
a few garlic cloves, chopped or crushed (optional)
1/2 cup chicken stock or water
1/2-1 cup cream (half & half or heavy)
a few handfuls torn baby spinach
grated Parmesan cheese, for serving
In a large pot of boiling water, cook the tortellini until it’s just done, according to the package directions. Drain and toss with pesto.
In a large, heavy skillet set over medium-high heat, heat a drizzle of oil and squeeze the sausage out of its casing into the pan. Sauté, breaking the meat up with a spoon, until it’s about halfway cooked; add the mushrooms and garlic and cook until the meat is no longer pink and any excess moisture has cooked off. Add the stock or water and stir to scrape the brown bits off the bottom of the pan, then stir in the cream. Cook for a few minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens slightly.
Add the tortellini to the pan and tear in the spinach. Cook, stirring, for another minute or two, until everything is heated through and the spinach wilts. Serve in shallow bowls topped with Parmesan cheese. Serves 4-6.
March 13 2012 | one dish and pasta | 17 Comments »
Back in December when I was bedridden with a back that capsized on the day of our cookiepalooza, which resulted in Mike bringing up Oreo truffles and shortbread at hour intervals, I started to fantasize about big salads, and would have paid $100 to anyone who delivered a hefty dose of kale.
I started flipping through food sites and blogs, looking for pictures of green things. Guys, I had it bad. I bookmarked this kale and quinoa salad with cranberries and feta, and swore I’d make it the minute I could stand at the kitchen counter again. I didn’t of course, and then it was Christmas, and the new year, and now February. So today, amongst it all, I made it for lunch. No biggie.
The great thing about a quinoa salad – besides its obvious deliciousness and ability to transform hard core leafy greens like kale – is that you can keep it in the fridge and have something great to dip into at any time without any mental effort. For days when your brain is otherwise occupied.
Although you can cook quinoa like rice -in a rice cooker, even- I like to cook it like pasta, in a pot of water, and strain it and return it to the warm pot to steam. Adding a handful of dried cranberries helps plump the fruit while absorbing excess moisture, as does a tea towel draped over the pot to absorb the steam. This guarantees fluffy quinoa.
The recipe – inspired by Dorie Greenspan’s chard stuffing – called for pine nuts, which cost about as much as platinum these days. Although I have a half a small bag in the freezer left over from some recipe or other, I’ve been coming up with substitutes, not wanting to waste the precious bitty things. But it occurred to me it would be an even more colossal waste to have them linger into freezer burned oblivion, only to be tossed out 10 years down the road.
And so I carefully unwrapped and shook out some pine nuts to toast in the toaster oven. I may have counted them, just to be fair. I gingerly set it on “toast” and ran to quick check my email.
Walnuts it is!
This is simply dressed with olive oil, salt and pepper, and a squeeze of lemon – but it would be fab with a simple balsamic or red wine vinaigrette.
Kale and Quinoa Salad with Cranberries and Feta
Adapted from Beyond the Plate, where it was inspired by Dorie Greenspan’s Chard Stuffing. Quantities of each ingredient are up to you, of course – adjust each according to your taste.
1 cup quinoa, rinsed and drained
1/3 cup dried cranberries
olive oil, for cooking
1 medium shallot or a small chunk of purple onion, peeled and thinly sliced
1 small bunch of kale
salt and pepper
pinch dried chili flakes (optional)
1/2 cup crumbled feta
1/4 cup pine nuts or 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
a squeeze of lemon (optional)
In a medium pot of boiling salted water, cook the quinoa for 12-14 minutes, until just tender and the germ separates, making a little curly Q. Drain well in a fine sieve, then return to the pot (off the heat, but still warm), add the cranberries, cover with a tea towel and the lid, and set aside to cool.
In a medium skillet set over medium-high heat, heat a drizzle of oil and sauté the shallot or onion for a couple minutes, until soft. Remove the tough ribs from the kale, stack the leaves and thinly slice them. Add to the pan and cook for about 5 minutes until wilted. If you like, add a small splash of water to the pan to create steam, and cover for a few minutes. Season with salt and add a pinch of chili flakes, if you like. If you added water, remove the lid and cook until the moisture has cooked off.
Add the kale to the quinoa, along with the feta and pine nuts or walnuts. Drizzle with oil and season with salt and pepper. Add a squeeze of lemon, if you like. Toss again and serve immediately. Serves 4.
February 02 2012 | grains and one dish and salads and vegetarian | 17 Comments »
Wait – don’t go. Hear me out.
Last week I made a resolution to use the food I have in my kitchen, rather than go shop for more, deciding what’s for dinner depending on my mood or the (near-constant) desire to try something new. I go for milk and eggs and come home with bags full of whatever was inspiring or on sale at the time, and then can hardly cram it into my cupboards and freezer. I think this is pretty typical, considering the fact that walk-in pantries and chest freezers are standard issue in most houses.
I hear a lot of people refer fondly to their fridges as that place produce goes to die. And it’s true – in North America (Canada very much included) it’s estimated that we throw out 40-50% of the food we buy. Half! Can you imagine the spending on groceries that takes place across the country on a daily basis? And that half of those purchases are tossed out? (Or composted, but still.) Besides the actual food waste, consider how much time and energy went into growing or producing all that food, transporting it, stocking shelves, even driving to the store to buy it. And it winds up tossed. A study last year estimated the annual cost to be $27.7 billion. Billion! That pipeline project everyone is talking about costs a measly $7 billion in comparison.
Alright, I’ll get to the point. Didn’t mean to get all preachy.
So what do you do when someone brings over a hunk of caraway Gouda so big it’ll keep you in cheese and crackers for a month? And you can’t do grilled cheese because of your six year old’s reaction to little bits in his cheese? You turn to the all-knowing intra-net and search for something to make with caraway and cheese in it. You go to Epicurious and punch in “Gouda” and “caraway”. If you’re lucky, something will pop up that makes use of that enormous bag of coleslaw you bought with the best intentions.
To make this quiche you cook a few slices of chopped bacon with an onion, and when the bacon is crisp and its fat rendered, you throw in a few handfuls of cabbage and cook it down. (A great use of bagged coleslaw – especially the last of the bag, which tends to get wilty.) When I did this, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world – like a fantastic warm bacon slaw. But as it cooked down it became more dense, as cooked vegetables do, and it made a great filling. Especially with the odd thin shard of carrot and purple cabbage – colour is always a good thing.
So yes, a cabbage and caraway quiche is an entirely unlikely thing to ever come out of my oven – but at the same time, MacGyvering my way through dinner pushed me out of my comfort zone, and the results were totally delicious. So good, in fact, that I made one of these a week ago, and then another this morning for my sister’s birthday brunch. The reaction around the table? “What’s in this? It’s delicious!” It wasn’t as easily identifiable as your typical ham & cheese or spinach quiche.
But you know how everything you make just sort of tastes like everything else you make? That you have your spice roster and don’t often edge out beyond it? Caraway is not typically a part of my culinary palette. It’s a fine spice, I have nothing against it, I just don’t really use it. I don’t think I could even locate any among the vast number of small jars and baggies that make up my spread-out spice non-rack. But with the creamy cheese and smoky bacon, it totally worked.
I’m not a quiche maker. But frittata tends to be my fall-back leftovers-user, and they aren’t much different. I contemplated skipping the crust, but then recalled how much I love a good wedge of quiche in a restaurant, and I went for it. I do love a good pie crust, and that you can get away with a slightly softer, more velvety filling when you’re not relying on it to hold its own.
Gouda, Coleslaw & Caraway Quiche
I swapped caraway Gouda for the gruyere and caraway seed in the recipe – you could of course do either. Adapted from Bon Appétit, December 1990.
4 bacon slices, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2-3 cups coleslaw or shredded green cabbage
3 large eggs
1 cup half & half or milk
1 cup grated Gouda or Gruyère cheese (or more, if you like – just wing it)
1/2 tsp. caraway seeds (optional)
salt & pepper
1 9″ deep-dish pie crust
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line your pastry crust with foil and pie weights (if you have them) and bake for 15-20 minutes, until pale golden. Remove the foil and weights and turn the oven up to 375°F.
Meanwhile, cook the bacon in a large heavy skillet over medium heat, add onion and cook until the bacon is crisp and the onion is tender. Add the coleslaw and cook until it wilts and all excess moisture evaporates, 10-15 minutes
In a medium bowl whisk together the eggs, half & half, cheese, caraway seed (if you’re using it) salt and pepper. Spread the cabbage mixture into the crust and pour the egg mixture overtop. Bake until filling puffs and starts to brown, about 40 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Serves 8-10.
January 22 2012 | eggs and one dish | 18 Comments »
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