roasted cauliflower, smoked paprika and cheddar frittata

two confessions:

first. i've been in kind of a

weird place lately.

i'm not sure if it's extreme

exhaustion brought on

by this commute that i thought

i could handle, a hint

of unhappiness in one or two

aspects of my life or as i

suspect, a combination of both.

usually, when i feel off,

cooking helps me get back on track.

it gives me something to focus on,

something that i know i can handle

and something that i can at least

in some way, predict the final outcome of -

all unlike uncertain times in life.

but, lately, even the idea of cooking

feels daunting. i imagine a lot of

chopping, sauteing while having

to keep a watchful eye, leftovers

that i need to find a container for

and aching feet.

i'm not used to this and it scares

me that i'm losing the one

thing that i've always relied on.

if my interest in cooking,

in researching recipes,

in putting a homemade dinner

on the table every night

is wavering,

what's next?

so there's that.

and the second secret: i use cooking spray.

it is uncool for so many reasons.

it's a chemical that i'm spraying all over

my food. it's a weird-flavored thing that

i'm spraying all over my food. but,

really, to me it's necessary.

i grew up in a

home that used oil and butter sparingly,

cream, never. as an adult, i've reached

a compromise between the responsible

calorie-saving side and the culinary-trained

side, using a combination of olive oil and

spray while learning which recipes don't

actually need oil at all. it's something

that i've always been hesitant to write about.

what will other people think?

but, if i was able to admit to you that i'm

doubting myself in some ways, i think

it's only fair that i cop to buying the largest

cooking spray that the store carries.

go ahead, judge me.

in the meantime,

i'll tell you about this frittata.

for my birthday, in august,

my mom gave me two great cookbooks:

good to the grain and plenty.

i've read both cover to cover several

times, but as is my new attitude apparently,

it all seemed so involved, such a commitment,

but, still so pretty, so tempting.

i've been torn.

last week,

in need of comfort, something

that required a low skill level and

a recipe that used a lot of ingredients

i already had in the house,

i landed on the smoky frittata in plenty.

it was an odd choice for me.

egg dishes don't entirely thrill me -

they're always so...eggy.

but this one had

golden cauliflower,

smoked paprika,

dijon mustard -

all ingredients that could

easily sway to me to overlook

the eggs (i was the kid who in

a mexican restaurant, ordered

a dish she had never heard of, with

ingredients she was so-so about,

just because it came with guacamole).

and, even better:

i knew i could handle it.

i would roast the cauliflower instead

of boiling, then browning in a pan.

i certainly could handle whisking

together a bunch of things in a bowl

and i was pretty sure that i could

bake the puffy omelet without burning it,

making a mockery of my

years in the kitchen in the process.

it felt good to drive home from

work, distracting myself on the ride

with ideas for the dinner, ultimately

deciding to use two mini cast iron

skillets instead of one large one. it

was nice to have a plan,

to walk into the kitchen, set the oven

to 400˚f and set to work cutting

the cauliflower into small florets.

it was a relief to realize that even

though i may feel inadequate a lot

lately, i still remembered to adjust

the racks to the top and bottom of

the oven and to divide the florets

evenly among two baking sheets

coated with cooking spray to

ensure that they browned

and didn't steam.

and while they were in the oven,

i changed around the rest of the recipe,

opting to whisk together all of the

flavor components first so that i

could taste and adjust,

before stirring in the raw egg.

i reduced the creme fraiche,

added horseradish, eliminated the smoky

mozzarella, increased the cheddar,

forgot about the chives (oops)

and added a few grains of smoked

salt that i purchased in temecula.

i think that's it.

and when the cauliflower came

out of the oven - and we resisted

the urge to just eat them all, as is - i

divided them between the cast iron

skillets and poured in the egg mixture,

sure that i would have extra.

i didn't. and they were really cute.

they looked so tiny,

hanging out over the flame on the stove,

but after the full 12 minutes in the oven,

placed on two plates they looked

beautiful - and huge.

the forkfuls,

alongside an arugula and apple salad,

were comforting and reassuring -

a promise that even though i'm still

not so willing to face

the stove with the same tenacity

i have in the past,

when i finally grab a knife,

it will be ok.

roasted cauliflower, smoked paprika and cheddar frittata

adapted from plenty

i will admit that even though i loved the look of the small cast iron pans, they produced frittatas that were huge - for me (larry was fine with the size). i was able to eat about half before i decided that i had had enough. the good news was that the omelet held up surprisingly well and was a nice lunch the next day. while it's true that i changed many elements, i think i still was able to maintain the smoky, cheesy essence of the dish.

plenty is written for a british kitchen - celsius, grams, etc. i converted to the best of my ability in this recipe.

1 medium head cauliflower, cored

1 tablespoon olive oil

3 tablespoons creme fraiche

2 heaping tablespoons dijon mustard

1 tablespoon prepared grated white horseradish

2 teaspoons smoked paprika

4 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, grated and divided

6 large eggs

one pinch large grain smoked salt, ground fine with a mortar and pestle (optional)

adjust racks to top and bottom thirds of oven. heat oven to 400˚f.

cut cauliflower into small-medium florets; place in bowl. drizzle with olive oil; sprinkle with salt and pepper, toss to combine. transfer cauliflower to two foil-lined baking sheets coated with cooking spray. if cauliflower looks dry, drizzle with olive oil or coat with cooking spray.

roast cauliflower 20-25 minutes, flipping cauliflower once and rotating baking sheets from top rack to bottom, or until golden brown and tender.

reduce oven temperature to 375˚f. place one rack back in the center of the oven.

meanwhile, in bowl, whisk together creme fraiche, mustard, horseradish, smoked paprika and 2 ounces grated cheddar cheese. taste and adjust, if necessary. in separate bowl (i used the cauliflower bowl), whisk eggs. pour into creme fraiche mixture and whisk to completely combine. season with a touch of salt and pepper, if desired.

coat one 10" cast iron skillet or two 5" cast iron skillets with cooking spray. evenly divide cauliflower between the two skillets to mostly cover the bottom of the skillet (i had extra, but roasted cauliflower never lasts very long in this house, so i wasn't worried). carefully divide egg mixture between the two skillets.

set skillet(s) over flame(s) set to medium. let cook 5 minutes, or until the bottom begins to set.

place on baking sheet. sprinkle with remaining cheese and smoked salt, if using.

carefully transfer baking sheet to oven. bake 8-12 minutes, or until the mixture is completely set. let sit 2-3 minutes before serving.

sardine and peppadew sandwich

i have guilt.

tiny fish guilt.

for years, i fell victim

to the popular digs -

about tiny fish found

in tiny cans. i'm open to

trying almost anything,

but the opportunity never

presented itself and i was

fine with that.

and then

one day, i had a marinated

white anchovy. my eyes were

opened. from there, i had

anchovies on pizza, in pasta

and sauteed with cauliflower. i was

the first one to poke my chopsticks

into the small bowls of even teenier

fish set on the table at a korean

restaurant and i willed myself

to try these bite-size crabs. i loved them.

but, still, until three months ago,

sardines were not really part of my life.

then, i ordered them, fresh and grilled, at a restaurant

when nothing else on the menu seemed

appealing. there were five, all with mini bones

to be removed from the admittedly flavorful flesh,

which i was not crazy about.

a month later, when i took larry

to degustation for his amazing birthday dinner,

one of the 10 courses featured sardines.

on one side of the plate was a

freshly cured curl, the other side was

fried and served with pickled onions. it

was one of my favorite dishes of the night.

although, yes, i know there is a difference

between fresh sardines and canned,

in my life, that seemed like the next

most practical leap -

so i started researching them

and buying them: one layer, two layer,

skinless and boneless, whole, packed in oil,

packed in spring water.

(i still haven't ventured

into the tomato sauce, pepper or mustard

packed cans.)

i realized that i like them all,

but if I was forced to tell you about one,

it would have to be the two layer sardines,

packed in olive oil, which for the effort of

opening the can, rewards you with two layers

of fish, from head to tail. trust me - i'm

the person who vowed to never again buy

canned salmon and attempt salmon cakes

after realizing what it meant to remove

the bones from the can. this is different -

the bones are so tiny and tender, that

i didn't even realize they're there. and,

if you are someone who does not like

seeing the entire fish looking back at you,

don't worry - once mashed,

nothing is recognizable.

they are flavorful, but not insultingly so,

much closer to tuna in harshness,

than ultra briny anchovies.

so, i started adding them to different

things, like pasta and salads.

and i started making sandwiches,

like this one,

with capers and mustard,

and spicy-sweet peppadews,

which i hope you try.

but, i will say this.

i'm fully aware that if the idea of opening a can

and seeing these sardines stare back at you,

finding out there are anchovies in your salad dressing

or dried shrimp in your thai food will upset you,

this sandwich is not for you.

this is not a recipe about conversion

or arm twisting.

it's a recipe about another choice for people

who already are fans - or maybe for those like

me: willing, but in need of a push.

sardine and peppadew sandwich

i've made this with a couple different types of canned sardines, which frankly, have all worked. so, feel free to use whatever you have on hand. but, if you're going out and shopping for them, i'm partial to the two layer in olive oil, which surprisingly boast less fat than the sister can packed in spring water. served on a baguette, it's a hearty sandwich appropriate for a fast or home-alone dinner, but on sliced bread, would be great for lunch. also, i think it's fair to say that this is one of those guideline recipes - adjust to suit your taste.

1 large juicy lemon, halved

1 medium shallot, peeled and finely chopped

3 tins sardines

3 tablespoons dijon mustard

1 heaping tablespoon capers, drained

salt and pepper

6-8 peppadews, sliced

mayonnaise, if you like that kind of thing

1 baguette, ends trimmed or 6-8 slices bread (depending on how packed you like your sandwiches

squeeze lemon juice into small mixing bowl. stir in shallots. let sit 20 minutes.

remove sardines from tins and add to bowl (i would refrain from simply overturning the tins into the bowl - you will end up with a lot of oil). using fork, mash sardines. stir in dijon mustard and capers. add salt and pepper to taste. adjust seasonings.

slice baguette in half or place bread slices on clean surface. spread with a thin layer of mayonnaise, if desired. divide sardine mixture evenly among bread slices or bottom layer of baguette. top with peppadews. cut baguette into four even pieces.

herbed olive and walnut spread

about four and a half years ago,

i was preparing to host friends

for the weekend.

for most people,

that means

cleaning a bit,

making restaurant reservations

and maybe,

planning a meal or two

to make for their guests.

for me,

living in a studio apartment -

a place in which

i made a big production when

showing people around: this is

the living room, and then this

(pulling them two feet

closer to me) is the bedroom,

right there to the left of your foot,

that piece of floor is the

dining room -

overnight guests meant

a complete overhaul.

i mean, really. when your

guests are going to spend

the night sleeping on the floor,

an arms-length away,

there is not a space to even

hide anything.

and making dinner?

that's really out of the question.

while it may have been fine for

me to make a mess - because there

was no other choice, in my surprisingly

spacious kitchen (it's relative, you see) -

and then for larry and i to eat dinner

on the floor, it's not really the kind

of behavior you can

impose on people nice enough to point

out that you're hosting them

in shoebox.

so instead,

when i had guests, i opted

to make reservations and start

the night with appetizers that could

be made ahead of time -

four people could comfortably

sit on the love seat and two

small chairs i kept hidden

in the corner for such occasions.

and i did have a little side table.

so when our friends were

coming to stay,

i took a familiar route.

make delicious nibbles of things

so that people were so

overcome by the food,

they forgot to focus on the

fact that my mixer sat

next to the couch, like pretend art

and, that my television was

on the dresser.

it sounds silly now, but i really

did think i could distract with food.

i settled on two

spreads:

blue cheese with caramelized shallots,

and

olive and walnut.

both good, i took a particular liking

to the slightly spicy, mustardy and

herb-infused olives.

i couldn't wait

to serve them the next night.

the next night.

i got an extremely

good lesson in knowing your audience.

i set the dips out and found out that

one of them despised

both blue cheese and olives.

i didn't blame her -

if someone put a plate

of fennel in front of me,

i don't think all the

trying and politeness

in the world would help me finish,

let alone start in on it.

but, i was still bummed.

that week, i used the spread a lot

in other dishes,

deciding that even though it hadn't

been a hit with everyone,

i had still stumbled upon

something delicious.

--

my mom's friend, judy, hosts

us and a couple other families

for a gathering every september.

it's a night based on tradition:

my mom always brings the chicken,

judy always make brisket,

someone always brings a platter

of homemade chocolates from his shop

and another is responsible for the

kugel and creamed herring.

it goes on.

over the years, i had played around,

making dessert,

trying different appetizers,

but nothing stuck.

that year, i decided to test the

olive spread with another group.

it was quite well received and i

felt relieved that i finally had my thing.

it's nice.

i'm always so concerned with

finding the perfect recipe

for the situation.

i spend hours - if not days -

on the internet,

reading through my cookbooks

and weighing out my options.

it's more than a relief to have

one thing that is on auto pilot.

but more than that,

this is a recipe worth making

over and over. it is quite

simple, especially with two

new additions:

1) i have upgraded from a

mini food processor

to a standard so that i can now

make everything in

one batch instead

of three.

2) two years ago, i finally gave in

and purchased pitted olives

instead of pitting my own.

so worth it.

but even with those original

handicaps, this recipe was nothing

to get nervous about.

thanks to the walnuts and spices,

it will always be very good and simple.

the crunch of the nuts

give the otherwise smooth dish,

welcome texture and obviously, a nuttiness

that plays well against

the briny olives.

over the years, i've taken to adding

more mustard and herbs, which

i think is worth it to make the

whole thing pop.

oh, a couple things about the herbs.

i've switched to dried because as

much as i'm a fan of fresh, it's hard

to rationalize buying a huge bunch

for 1 teaspoon-worth -

and, i'm the kind of person

who typically keeps away

from anything marked herbed

out of fear of intense herbiness.

but in this case, they are still

a background note -

and one that works beautifully.

i've also upped the cayenne because

i like the idea of a very slight

gentle heat at the end of each bite.

ultimately, this really is

a very simple food processor recipe,

so nothing is stopping you from

tweaking here and there until

it's adjusted to suit you perfectly.

i secretly always wish for leftovers

because the spread is perfect

with tomatoes on bread

and more recently, i've used it to mimic

a very memorable dish

that i enjoyed in charleston a few years ago:

hot pasta, tossed with tapenade,

goat cheese and a few splashes of pasta water.

once, i mixed all three together before adding

to the pasta, but i realized that the restaurant

had been right, there's something delicious

about an occasional bite having only

goat cheese or only the olives.

so now, i add dollops of each to the pasta,

then mix. it makes the whole thing

taste hand-crafted.

last week, i made the spread

for the sixth time and i absolutely

like it as much now as i did the

first time i served it.

everyone else seems to, too.

oh, and when larry and i moved

in together, i felt instantly

spoiled with space.

we put a table in our dining room

(i had a dining room!)

and the mixer on the kitchen counter.

we got a bookshelf.

it's amazing what you can be grateful for.

we invited the same couple back,

made neutral appetizers,

and ate dinner and dessert -

which everyone seemed to enjoy -

at that treasured table

and that night, we gave them their

very own room to sleep in.

they even had a door.

herbed olive and walnut spread

adapted from pane caldo in chicago, via bon appetit magazine

by all means, buy the pitted olives, but do yourself two huge favors. first, make sure you buy beautiful purple olives and not the greenish-brown ones - the color makes this dish. also, even if you buy the pitted, take the time to check each before they go in the food processor. the process is never perfect and a pit could slip by (sorry, alan!). i always double the recipe, so that's what i'm giving you here, but it can obviously, be easily halved. also, as always, make it, taste and adjust. personally, i like flavors prominent, so i've increased the quantities of everything.

3 1/2 cups pitted kalamata olives (about 1 pound), rinsed and drained well

3/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted and divided

6 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons coarse-grained mustard

3-4 cloves garlic, peeled and halved

2 teaspoons dried thyme

2 teaspoons dried oregano

1 1/2 teaspoons dried sage

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

in bowl of food processor, finely chop olives and 6 tablespoons toasted walnuts. add olive oil, mustard, garlic, thyme oregano, sage and cayenne pepper; blend to combine. taste and adjust. transfer olive mixture to bowl; stir in remaining walnuts. cover and chill until serving.

i like to serve this with pita triangles, grape tomatoes and sliced zucchini and squash. the original recipe called for slices of a baguette.