a new start

memorial day was a new start for me.

so many holidays have happened

since i moved away six years ago.

they all resembled each other.

i, on the brink of frantic, would

cook as much as i possibly could in my

kitchen, before arriving at my mom's,

an hour away

with a couple of half-prepared dishes,

various cooking utensils,

baking vessels and

plastic baggies filled with mise en place:

toasted nuts,

measured baking soda or cinnamon,

chopped onions

and bottles of things.

while my family sat and socialized,

my mom and i would cook.

and i, who usually cooked a lot

before i came, would be tired.

mom, too, i'm sure.

but, this year.

this year, for memorial day,

i found myself in our new house,

just 10 minutes from my mother's.

by myself. larry had left

for a bachelor party two days before.

i had this brand new space to myself

and i did not have to dream up ridiculous

plans to get the food from

point a

to

point b.

i was going to get to know the kitchen.

sure, i had cooked a couple times earlier

that week - reaching into the drawer with

foil when i needed flatware, opening up

the cabinet for olive oil and finding mixing bowls

and trying to figure out how much money we're

willing to set aside for an electrician to install

new lights in our crazy dark kitchen.

but, this time was different.

i was on my own timetable

(not trying to rush to finish before

the sun went down and the room was

rendered too dark) and i had the day to

not be spastic.

and i used it.

i woke up in the morning with

all ingredients for the hamburger buns

and potato salad already in the house -

for me, this is the real secret to organized

success. the second i have to leave, go to the

grocery store, come back and get started

is the second my day somehow always goes

awry. i went downstairs and i cooked.

it went well.

extremely well.

i learned where everything was

and i discovered that the counter to

the right and left of the sink are

pretty good for prep work. i realized

that it is nice to have a modern oven,

with buttons instead of dials,

and that i can appreciate the ugly

ceiling fan that the former owners installed.

but, i didn't, i realized too, late,

take pictures with the intention of blogging.

the dough for the buns had already risen

before i remembered to grab my camera

and even though i started early with potatoes,

i still missed some crucial shots, like um,

maybe a pretty one.

still, i got some good ones to commemorate

my first holiday in my new home, near

my family.

as as i read the recipe for hamburger buns last year in the new york times, i wanted to make them immediately. then, they started showing up in blogs and i just kept waiting for my chance. this memorial day, it happened. my mom made feta and spinach turkey burgers, erin squeezed shredded cucumbers for tzatziki and i finally made some buns - successfully on the first try. i can't believe that three years ago, i was so afraid of yeast that i ignored any recipe that called for a packet.

i made potatoes gribiche a couple months ago after staring at potatoes on my counter for way too long and remembering that that's exactly how luisa, from the wednesday chef, originally came across the recipe - guiltily ignoring potatoes nearing their expiration date in her kitchen. the first time, i made them, adding a bit more mustard and vinegar, and served them soon after, warm, as intended. it was the perfect dish for me, tangy, salty, crunchy and all surrounding crisply roasted potatoes. the next day, even though it was cautioned otherwise, i had the leftovers and didn't mind them one bit. that's why last week, i took a chance and made a double batch of them for the barbecue, not at all worried about the fact that they wouldn't be served for hours. my family loved them and reinforced that this is a great alternative to well, any side dish you might otherwise make.

next up - a real blog post with a real honest to goodness recipe.

a meal to remember

i grew up with my mom

making hummus - to us,

it was middle eastern fare,

which we brought to school

for bring-a-recipe-that-represents-

your-heritage-day. it was the

appetizer that was served

before holiday dinners

and the comfort food that i

took back with me to college,

eating with carrots

for lunch instead of swiping

my meal card.

it was all that.

but, in my eyes, it wasn't greek.

and yet, until college, save for occassional

spanakopita, it was the closest i

came to greek food.

i started my first real job 3 months

before my 23rd birthday.

all my life, 

i had claimed that i wanted to write.

so i went to school to get 

my journalism degree,

worked on the college paper,

got an internship

at the asbury park press, 

another after graduation at a men's magazine,

suffered a six week stint at a county newspaper

covering board meetings, 

where they actually

spent hours fighting over 

whether or not the

town should have access

to the YES network,

and then, just when i had flopped myself on

my mom's bed, 

crying and telling her that i

was wrong, 

i don't want to write for a living,

i finally landed my first job

as an editorial assistant 

at a women's magazine.

in the decor department.

trading spaces was huge at the time.

i had made it.

then...

my grandfather passed away 

10 days before i started. 

the magazine was an hour and 15 minutes

from my house - without traffic - and i had never

driven on the 

new jersey turnpike 

before my

interview. 

i started the day

after memorial day, 

unsure of the policies - could

i wear open-toed shoes, should i don a skirt? 

do i bring lunch? 

i had to silently 

plead with truck drivers to

let me into their lane several times, 

after repeatedly almost ending up

in staten island, new york city

and at the newark airport. 

i had been stuck behind an accident for 5 miles.

i didn't know where to park once i got there.

i was flustered.

yet, i was determined to be calm, professional,

serious. 

never let them see you sweat.

and then, as i waited with the receptionist,

cathy and trish walked in.

i had loved cathy from the second the

interview started. she had 

made me feel like i was giving

legitimate answers, like i might not

be some dumb 22-year-old who

thinks she'll be the next paige davis

and like maybe, my clips weren't half bad.

and, she was funny and friendly

and i knew when she offered me coffee,

that if i took it (which i didn't) i wouldn't

be judged.

during the interview, tricia, 6-months-pregnant

with her first child walked out to introduce

herself (or as i later learned, to check me out).

i had crossed my fingers to

work with them.

they took me back to our cubicle

and into our life as a 3-person

department, never making me feel

stupid or slow for not remembering

where the stapler was kept.

at lunch time,

cathy announced we 

were ordering and got us a large

greek salad and hummus with pitas

to share.

as i stared at the grape leaf in

my salad, trying to decide if 

i would like it, 

cathy pulled out a picture -

tricia, cathy and three men -

before saying, 

this is tricia's husband, my fiance 

and their third brother. do 

you have a boyfriend?

oh my, i thought.

but, so began the best 

work relationship 

i've been lucky enough to have, 

amazing friendships,

and, also, my love affair with greek food.

i fell hard for taramosalata,

a dip made from fish roe that almost

no one else will eat with me,

shrimp gyros, avoglemeno,

different types of feta and olives, 

vegetarian eggplant moussaka,

skordalia, tzatziki and too many

other things to name.

and over time, i started to really

see the beauty and deliciousness

in properly made dolmades,

or stuffed grape leaves.

when fresh, they're filled with

herb-dotted tender rice,

bound together tightly by

a briny grape leaf. they're a treat

tucked into salads, hiding in 

pita with vegetables, or garnishing

a plate the way a pickle might.

cool and refreshing, they're not

heavy and ultimately,

a sum greater than its parts.

until i noticed recipes popping

up everywhere,

i always thought it was a dish

better left to the professionals,

or, families

who grew up with this as a traditional

treat. but, i am usually up for a

(kitchen) challenge,

so when tasked with bringing an 

appetizer for memorial day,

i steered clear of the cheddar

and crackers

and headed straight toward...

questionable behavior.

i'm not so great at precision,

i was making three other dishes,

i had to shop late afternoon

for almost all of the ingredients,

and yet, i thought this was

a good idea.

i was looking forward to the

rice mixture, which was simple 

enough: 

sauteed onions and garlic,

rice, cumin (oddly enough), 

dried currants and chicken 

broth, oregano and pine nuts.

and putting that part together

was easy.

very easy.

i felt like a super hero.

what had i been worried about?

but i looked at the clock and

i had started later than

i thought, and oh, i just wanted

to lay down.

i remembered, thank goodness,

another trick i had learned from culinary

school to help cool things down quickly.

so i covered a baking pan with 

parchment, spread the rice over

and let it sit until it was room

temperature.

next, i figured that rolling the leaves

would be like anything else. 

the first one or two wouldn't be

easy, but after that, i would

be on a roll.

did i mention i'm terrible

at things like this?

the rice was the perfect consistency

and yet, i couldn't roll

the leaves tight enough,

some were breaking, the rice

was falling out on the cutting

board and i had a large pile

of discarded leaves.

then, larry suggested that i

lay two leaves, just overlapping

to give myself a greater surface

area to roll. 

i'm embarrassed to say that i laughed.

but then, as he walked out of the 

room, i tried it. 

it worked! 

yes, i'm sure the grape leaf to rice 

ration increased 

to ridiculous proportions.

but it worked and suddenly they

started to line up on the cutting

board like obedient soldiers.

it was then that i noticed,

that in my frantic state,

i had rolled some the wrong

way and instead of hiding inside,

a lot of the line-up boasted very

visible veins.

i steamed them, 

let them cool, 

and then 

wrapped them into two containers:

can be viewed by the public

and

must be kept in hiding.

the next morning, i made

a quick dip of yogurt and feta

(i've never heard of dipping

dolmades, but a lot of recipes

recommend it). on the way down,

i panicked that the second people

picked them up, the rolls would fall

apart and called my family,

calming down only when

my mother said i could use

her pita chips to round out

the plate.

the dip was a huge hit and

at the end of the night,

the nutty grape leaves were all gone,

too. some guests had never

tasted one before, and i felt

like i was delivering a psa

on greek food,

but, i really do believe most 

liked them.

i would love to make a salad

and use them traditionally.

it's one of those foods that makes

me feel like i've come a long

way and oddly, because really,

it's just a grape leaf, often

makes me think of a whole

lot more than how much

i enjoy greek food.

i know that cathy and tricia

were eating greek before 

i started at the 

magazine,

but because over the years

we spent so many birthdays 

at the local greek restaurant,

ordered from them so 

often, celebrated

my last day at the job almost

six years later with a greek delivery

and met at the restaurant two days

before my wedding (where

cathy did a reading and tricia's

daughters were the flower girls),

i like to pretend that our first 

shared salad, was everyone's first.

and even if not - there's no harm

in delusion, right?

pinenut and currant dolmades

adapted from bon appetit magazine

i know that i couldn't roll these, but i'm very much under the belief that i just lack certain coordination skills that most people possess. i also am under the belief that these are not actually hard to roll once a normal person gets the hang of them. even though i changed the rice mixture considerably (left out the parsley and mint, used low-sodium chicken broth, added oregano and reduced the oil) i still think it was really delicious - it would be great, served piping hot as a side dish.

1 jar (8 ounces) grape leaves, drained

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 large white onion, peeled and diced

3 large cloves garlic, peeled and diced

1 cup long grain white rice

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 tablespoon dried oregano

4 cups low-sodium, fat-free chicken broth, divided

1/2 cup dried currants

1/3 cup pine nuts, toasted

1/2 lemon, juiced

place grape leaves in bowl with cold water; let sit 30 minutes.

in large saucepot over medium heat, heat 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil; add onion and garlic and cook 10 minutes, stirring sometimes, until very tender. add rice, cumin and oregano and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly. add 2 cups chicken broth and currants; bring mixture to a boil. reduce heat to low; simmer, cover and cook 20 minutes or until broth is absorbed and rice is tender. transfer to a bowl and stir in pine nuts, salt and pepper. let cool.

drain grape leaves; cut off stems. place one grape leaf, vein side-up on cutting board. place a heaping tablespoon on end of grape leaf. roll, like an eggroll, tucking sides in first. (if this doesn't work for you either, feel free to steal my two grape leaf trick). repeat with remaing leaves and filling.

place stuffed grape leaves, seamside down, in large 14" skillet or two 12" skillets. divide remaining oil and chicken broth amongst skillets; squeeze with lemon juice. cover; bring heat to medium-low and simmer 30 minutes, or until all liquid is absorbed. uncover and let rolls cool completely. transfer to platter or sealed container and store in the fridge. can be made one day ahead of time.

lemony feta yogurt dip

greek yogurt is great because you do not have to spend time draining it - also, because it is so thick and delicious, i always buy the fat-free and no one ever knows. or cares. with this dip, play around, adjusting seasonings until it suits your taste. you can serve it with the dolmades, on a sandwiches, with pitas or with veggies - and probably a million other things.

1 container (17.6 ounces) fat-free greek yogurt, like fage 0%

1/2 lemon, juiced

1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese

1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 teaspoons dried oregano

kosher salt

black pepper

in bowl, combine all ingredients; season with salt and pepper. cover and chill. sprinkle with paprika, if desired.

my true definition

when i think barbecues,

i think bar cookies,

brownies,

ice cream

and maybe 

s'mores.

i don't think:

tarts.

and yet, after venturing

on one of my notorious

what-should-i-make

missions for memorial day,

that's exactly what i picked.

not only was it a tart,

but one filled to the brim

with raspberries,

which on a scale of 

pineapples and blueberries

(amazing)

to fennel and celery

(ew, for me),

i would rank as 

mangoes (eh). 

but i'm a big fan of pleasing

the masses and as i've learned,

most people rank

raspberries

much higher on their list

than i would.

and tarts...i love the idea

of a good tart.

in theory.

--

have you ever been to

restaurant week in nyc?

picture really expensive,

you'd have to sell your best

shoes plus maybe your first

born kid to go on a normal night,

but a place,

where for two weeks, they drop

their dinner menu down to $35 a person,

for a three course meal.

it's still not cheap (figure no less than $12 a person

for one delicious lychee martini or a very crisp

sauvignon blanc), but it's a great

way to sample a restaurant that you

otherwise most likely would not

consider. we've had amazing meals

at mesa grill and calle ocho

and really good dinners at

thalassa, mercer kitchen and others

this way. and we've had some

restaurant week cop outs.

but, there was one restaurant -

which to be fair,

i only visited this one time,

and maybe it was an off night,

so i won't call them out -

that when the bill came,

i was horrified by the $125 printed

across the bottom of the paper.

i was partially to blame.

the first courses were both meat,

so i went with the salad, which was

delicious. 

it was the main meal and the dessert

in which i made a grave error,

twice swayed by the word tart 

in the description. 

(in my defense, you order all three

courses in the beginning. and, 

i think they were worded in such

a way that it wasn't immediately

apparent to me

that i had ordered two tarts.)

the dinner was a vegetable tart

and when it came,

i was more than a little upset

by the second salad of the night,

sitting slightly askew atop

a piece of puff pastry.

this is not a tart,

i said immediately to larry.

but i ate it,

explaining that i'm sure 

somewhere - somewhere fancier than me -

it is acceptable that a tart

is merely something crisp

resting underneath other ingredients,

but to me, a tart has a full base

and sides and serves as a

support.

this is not a tart, i said

over and over.

but the plates were taken

away and it was in the past,

so i attempted to get over it

and enjoy the aforementioned

lychee martini

before dessert.

then the lemon tart came.

do i even need to tell you that 

there was lemon curd laying

aside a thin biscuit?

nowhere in the description

had they said a deconstructed

tart. the menu had read:

lemon curd tart.

i was fed up. and annoyed

that i had been

taken twice,

especially as larry enjoyed

beef carpaccio, 

braised short ribs

and 

steaming hot beignets

that he dipped into a

gorgeously 

silky vanilla bean

custard.

i wasn't sure who i was more

upset with:

me, for ordering two tarts in one sitting,

the chef, for clearly not thinking out the

vegetarian options,

the management for being so freaking

snobby in the first place (there were

other problems, as well),

or again, the management for adding

a 20% service charge before tip.

we walked out of the restaurant,

past all the people at the bar,

who were in fact, fancy,

into the rain, while my hair

frizzed as we ran to the car, the 

whole time yelling,

those were not tarts,

i'll show them what a tart is.

amused, larry took 

to yelling "tarts!" intermittently 

as we drove home on 

the west side highway.

--

that was three and a half years ago.

when i think about tarts,

i still have a questionable reaction.

but this dessert was brand new - 

in the most recent bon appetit -

and featured a mix-and-press dough,

that was filled with

a mixture made from brown butter, which

was created, i think, just to make

butter sound special. 

but, boy is brown butter one of the

most heavenly, nutty, fragrant 

things out there. so maybe

it was created for another purpose.

and this fruity confection 

is made to feed large crowd -

who just maybe had just had

barbecued chicken and potato salad.

and did i mention it has sides?

as someone who was always

somewhat afraid of 

making,

rolling out,

and transferring

pie dough

to a dish, i wish

i had started with this recipe.

no food processor or pastry cutter

needed.

you just melt butter, stir in 

flour

sugar

and salt

and use your fingertips to

press the dough into the 

pan.

bake it - 

again, no foil,

weights or dried beans

needed -

let it cool,

then arrange raspberries

inside.

brown butter requires

little more than

a saucepot with a pale

bottom, a little patience

and a will to hold your nerve

while the butter goes 

from solid,

to melted,

to foamy and bubbly

and finally to a golden

brown.

then, you pull it from

the flame just before

it darkens.

mixed with flour and sugar,

it's poured into the shell,

cozying itself around

the raspberries,

before it heads into

the oven. here, it

puffs and turns golden,

dotted by the now pink berries.

this is baking for the baking

novice, which all of us

trained, experienced or

fresh to the world of

baking can appreciate.

the best part is that the 

small amount of work that

goes into this dessert

is all worth it,

whether it's for a bbq where

people may be expecting

to toast sticky marshmallows or

to follow a gourmet dinner

around a table.

the flaky and deep-flavored

buttery crust surrounds

the rich filling, broken up

only by the softened

still-tart raspberries.

it is one piece, it cuts into beautiful slices 

and to me,

it is a tart. 

period.

brown butter raspberry tart

adapted from bon appetit magazine

just before making this tart i almost changed my mind and used apricots instead. i'm glad that i first made the dessert as it was intended, but next time, i think i will use apricots, which i would halve and place cut-side down in the baked shell. i think blueberries and diced strawberries would be delicious, too. in my oven, set for 375˚f as the recipe instructed, the tart threatened to burn twice: once when just baking the crust and a second time when the filling was setting, so i ended up turning it down to 350˚f after about 15 minutes. you know your oven best - bake accordingly.

7 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/3 cups sugar

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup, plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

pinch of salt

1/2 cup sugar

2 large eggs

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

pinch of salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 stick unsalted butter (1/2 cup)

2 containers (6 ounces each) fresh raspberries

arrange rack in center of oven. heat oven to 375˚f. melt butter; stir together melted butter, sugar, vanilla extract, flour and salt just until it comes together. transfer dough to a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. using fingertips, press dough evenly into bottom and up sides of tart. 

place pan on baking sheet. bake crust 15-18 minutes, or until golden brown. remove from oven; place on rack and let cool completely.

in medium bowl, whisk together sugar, egg, vanilla extract, flour and pinch of salt. cut up butter and place in small saucepot with a pale bottom set over medium-low heat. let butter cook 6 minutes, or until it reaches a golden brown, swirling saucepot occasionally. it will foam and bubble twice before turning - once it turns brown and smells nutty, take it off the heat immediately to prevent burning. 

(the original recipe now instructs you to transfer the browned butter to a glass measuring cup immediately - this is to prevent further browning. i didn't do this, but i also knew that i was inviting disaster if i didn't move quickly. i was fine, but you decide your own comfort level.)

gradually pour browned butter into the sugar mixture, whisking constantly and swiftly. 

arrange raspberries in tart shell. gently pour egg mixture into pie shell. bake (on baking sheet) 40 minutes, or until puffed and golden brown and toothpick inserted in center of tart comes out clean. let cool completely. wrap well and store at room temperature until ready to serve.