housekeeping

blogging, i think,

should be an up-to-date

process, and sadly,

for the past

few months,

not lazy. rustic.

has been tardy.

in some respects its

fine. if you have a

potato salad that you've

been making all summer,

and you don't exactly get

around to posting the

recipe the first time it

shows up on your kitchen

table, but the second time

you think,

this really is good,

i should talk about it,

i think you've found

your loophole.

but otherwise,

i think you (ok, i) should post

in a reasonable amount of time.

especially, if the season is

changing and a bunch of

the recipes are on their way

to losing their relevancy.

and so, in the spirit of

sharing with you our

last bits of summer before

these ingredients completely

disappear and you become much

more interested in stews

than watermelon (for instance),

the next couple posts

will be a peek backward.

after, it will be a new slate

(or maybe we'll get

lucky with a few hot days

and some bumper crops

of summer veggies and fruits).

years ago (yes, this was the last

of the four recipes that i've

been wanting to make forever),

i saw a recipe in one of my cookbooks

for grape and marcona almond gazpacho.

very weird that i even stopped to look,

because i typically flip the page

fast when i see gazpacho

(unless it's this gazpacho) -

i think it has something to do with

all the chunks of peppers.

but, i stopped and read it

and decided that it sounded

delicious and unique and that

when summer came around,

i would have to make it.

of course,

it took years.

and, of course,

because i finally decided to make

a batch this summer,

i could not remember

which book it came from

in the first place.

i searched for a while

and finally gave up,

deciding to just go my usual route -

the internet.

in the end,

i took my favorite components

of several recipes that i found,

adding bread as one recipe indicated,

soaking it briefly like another said,

switching marcona almonds for the regular

and using cucumber to temper the sweetness.

by the time i was done,

adding garlic,

scallions

and

sherry vinegar,

it was my own.

(at first, i was resistant to

the cucumber, wanting a soup

that was purely grape and almonds,

but one sample spoonful made the

veggie's use clear - without it,

you could serve the soup with cookies

and drink it for dessert.)

i prepared the mixture one day ahead -

in about 15 minutes, perfect for a

hot day - and kept it in the blender

container until dinner the next night.

i'm glad i did - the mixture separated

a bit in the fridge and benefited

from the second whirl.

garnished with whole almonds

and slices of grapes, which i

absolutely loved - this soup

was the definition of summer.

just slightly sweat,

very light,

full of flavor

and delicious

without an oven.

hopefully,

you still have time

to make some of your own.

green grape and marcona almond gazpacho

this soup can be made at least one day ahead (possibly longer, but we didn't have leftovers to experiment with). the only part of this gazpacho that i wasn't in love with was the texture - the nuts never fully smoothed out. next time i would probably do one of two things: strain the mixture or only process it a bit so that the entire lot is still a bit chunky (more like a traditional gazpacho). also, a word of caution: this soup is so light, that some of your dining companions may not view this as a full meal...consider serving it as an appetizer, with a salad or alongside a creative sandwich.

3 ounces day old bread, crusts removed and cubed

1 cup water, at room temperature

1 english cucumber, peeled, halved, seeded and chopped

2 cups grapes, plus more for garnish

3/4 cup marcona almonds (not oil-coated), plus more for garnish

4 scallions, white and green parts, sliced

2 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped

2 tablespoons sherry vinegar

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil

place bread in water; let sit a couple of minutes. squeeze bread to remove some of the moisture. transfer bread to blender. discard remaining water. add remaining ingredients to food processor. process just until combined. taste soup and adjust ingredients; season with salt and pepper to taste. chill in container at least 2 hours, or overnight.

to serve: whirl again in blender, if necessary. divide soup among bowls; garnish with sliced grapes and marcona almonds.

homemade pride

there are several things

that i have made,

simply because i'm

surprised

and

amazed

to find out that i can.

that's how the whole deal

with marshmallows began,

why i first made graham crackers,

and how i ran to the store late

one saturday night to get yeast,

determined to make english muffins

for sunday morning's breakfast.

and that was initially most of

my thought process with

ricotta cheese.

i can't even remember how long

ago it was that i learned

ricotta cheese could easily

be made at home.

and even though i printed out

a recipe and debated what i should

use it for,

i still held onto that piece of paper

for way too long.

last week i decided - no doubt

fueled by the success of

slow-roasted tomatoes -

that that was it,

no more excuses:

i was making ricotta.

--

larry reacted true to form.

first giving me that look,

letting me know that he thinks

i'm crazy.

next, he asked, very simply, why?

and after that didn't work,

he gave it a last ditch attempt,

reminding me that i could

buy it for a lot less work.

later, he asked what i was going to

do with it. when i said i didn't

yet know, but that wasn't the point,

he shrugged his shoulders and

dropped the subject,

no doubt clear in his defeat.

--

but because i'm never content

to just make it easy,

i searched for a different

recipe, wanting to guarantee

that i went with the right method.

i found this one,

then debated all afternoon.

it wasn't until i was in the store,

staring at all the milks

that i decided to stick to my guns

and go with my first recipe.

i owed it that much after

years waiting its turn

in the binder.

i made one change,

breaking a major rule of mine:

never ever change a recipe the

first time you make it.

make it the way it was intended first,

then feel free to play, tinker and add.

it's not that i don't adjust

here and there,

but when a recipe is fundamentally based

on very few ingredients,

it seems more than wrong

to mess with any

of them.

i never buy full-fat ricotta,

so, it seemed kind of weird for me

to make the cheese all fat at home.

i took a big leap, and bought

1% milk, knowing that if i didn't

have cheese at the end of the

experiment, i'd have no one

to blame but myself.

i also switched the heavy cream

for light cream, worried that i needed

extra fat that whole milk

just would not be able to provide.

in spite of these changes,

when i mixed together the

milk,

cream,

and salt,

in a pot, and brought them

to a boil, they boiled anyway

(not that there was really

any doubt about that part).

and after, i

added the lemon juice

called for,

plus just a smidge more,

i crossed my fingers

that the mixture would

in fact curdle.

at first, i thought the curds

were tiny, and that there

weren't enough.

i was sure that the whole

thing concoction would slip

through the cheesecloth

and all wind up in the bottom

of the bowl,

still liquid.

but a minute later, i experimented,

lifting up the spoon i was using to stir

and was pleasantly surprised to

see that it contained a good amount of cheese.

it was now or never.

i poured the mixture into

the cheesecloth-lined strainer,

eyes half closed and was very

happy to realize that there was quite

a lot of cheese in the bowl.

i tasted i small bit -

very hot

still wet -

but unmistakingly, ricotta.

even though this recipe had said to strain

the cheese for one hour,

the other one called for only 15 minutes.

i took a chance around 20

(after a quick straining test to make sure

it wasn't still dripping wet)

and spread it onto the

whole grain pizza dough i had just grilled.

then, i topped it with the

heirloom bruschetta i had stirred together

while the cheese was draining.

and i was so glad for that.

you see - i like ricotta.

i can appreciate the creamy texture

and the smoothness it lends

to a dish. i can get behind the

hard to beat clean cheese flavor.

but, i can't help to find ricotta

a little bit bland.

i rarely use it without

spicing the whole mixture

up with

garlic

lemon

salt

pepper

and more.

this time, i wanted to enjoy

it for the simple ingredient

it was. i added nothing to it,

but on top, was a different story.

the balsamic, basil and red onion-spiked

bruschetta over the crispy smoky crust,

encouraged the cheese to taste like

the most complex of

ingredients.

the next night,

i scooped a spoonful of the

significantly dryer ricotta

into a bowl,

sprinkled it with ground cinnamon,

drizzled everything with honey

and tossed a handful of blueberries

on top.

it was a lovely treat -

creamy and indulgent,

gently spiced and

not too sweet.

but thanks to the summer fruit,

extremely fresh.

oddly,

i've waited years to

make ricotta, never actually

discussing it with anyone,

but just days after this batch

was made, my friend colleen

wrote about her experience

making ricotta that very

weekend. it's not such a

surprise - in the past

we've made garlic scapes

at the same time and

this past weekend for my

birthday, she whipped up a

batch of peach cupcakes that i

had my eye on to bake.

but to me, the best part was

that she had made the other

recipe, so i now have proof

that both work.

obviously, if you're in a hurry,

i cannot dispute that it's easier

to buy a container

from the store.

but if you have even

the tiniest

bit of time,

it's worth it to make

ricotta at home.

the only reason

this actually takes

a few extra minutes

is because you have to

wait for the mixture to come

to a boil.

after that, it's fast,

smooth sailing -

the equivilant of making pasta.

seriously.

don't wait as long as i did.

homemade ricotta cheese

adapted from gourmet magazine

the original recipe called for whole milk and heavy cream, which i'm sure would have been delicious. i made this with 1% milk and light cream. on the first night, it was lovely. the second night it was still good, but much dryer. the original recipe called to let the mixture drain for 1 hour. i was very happy with the texture after 20 minutes of draining - so i used it then. if you prefer a less wet ricotta, let it strain longer.

1/2 gallon 1% milk

1 cup light cream

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 generous tablespoons fresh lemon juice

line a large sieve with cheesecloth (i gave it four layers); place over a large bowl and set aside.

in large heavy saucepot over medium heat, bring milk, cream and salt to a rolling boil, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.

add lemon juice; reduce heat to low and cook 2 minutes, or until the mixture curdles, stirring constantly. gently pour mixture into sieve. let drain 20 minutes to 1 hour.

cover and chill in fridge. keeps for up to two days.

a slow journey

every summer,
i wait until august,
excited to finally make
this recipe
for slow-roasted tomatoes,
directly from the pages of orangette.

then somewhere around
october,
it occurs to me that that
it's now october and i,
in fact, have let another
summer go without
producing even a single batch
of these deeply flavored
beauties.

it was not going to
happen again this year.
reason one: i was determined.
reason two: i read a homemade life.
the book by molly wizenberg,
author of orangette,
this summer.
and while there
were quite a few recipes i intended
to use to break in the book,
like the buckwheat pancakes,
the bouchons au thons and
the chocolate cake of hers that
i've always wanted to make,
when there were nothing but
tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes,
everywhere i turned, it was
clear that this one was up first.

to ensure that i would carry

my promise through,

i bought 10 roma tomatoes

on friday, carefully placing

them spaced out on my counter

when i got home, so that if

i didn't roast them, the guilt

would hit me

every trip to the kitchen.

yes, that's how i work.

sunday morning,

it was ridiculously hot,

but when hasn't it been

this august?

i set to work, slicing tomatoes

and was pleasantly surprised

to note that in the book,

molly had adapted the recipe

to tossing the tomatoes with
oil, rather than brushing them.

once coated, i placed them on

a baking sheet, trying to keep

the slippery devils in place,

sprinkled the halves

with salt and ground coriander

and placed them in the oven.

easy.

but then i had a choice to make:

trap myself, and in turn, larry,

in the hot apartment

or take a chance and actually leave,

relying on the fact that we've used

this oven for 3 years and never has

it started a fire -

even when making this overnight apple cake,

which also required me to leave

the oven on all night and kept me

from a relaxed night of sleep,
too worried that i would wake

up to the fire alarm, or worse, smoke.

i'm sensing a trend, here.

so, we left, but it was too hot to

visit anywhere except the

air conditioned-movie theatre.

we settled in to see julie and julia,

as i vowed that i would pay attention

to the movie and not spend two hours
thinking about things like

fire trucks, insurance and

my grandmother's dining room table

& china cabinet,

both made of wood.

i expected the movie to be light

and touching and brimming with food,

but what i didn't expect was to be hit

so hard with its story lines,

so similar to mine.

i had read the book and found it

entertaining, but that's the most

that i remember

or took away from the pages.

the movie though, well if you've seen

it, you know that it is sweet and

inspirational with a

few moments that

could possibly provoke tears,

if you are pretty sensitive.

i cried almost the whole time.

and for a while after.

it was so strange.

but, save for the scene that julie

made the most delicious looking

bruschetta, the movie served

its purposes, keeping us cool for

two hours and mostly distracting

me from the tomatoes at home.

we got home at just about the

four hour mark

(from the prescribed 4-6

hour cooking time)
and everything was...
as it should be.

when we opened the door,

the entire space smelled
like the best tomatoes ever.
and when i opened the oven,

the halves were absolutely

wrinkled, smaller and darker,

but not quite the 1/3 of their

size they ought to be,

so i closed the door and let

them cook almost two hours

more, heeding the note

that they should still be juicy.

when i pulled them out,

i remembered the other blogs

from around the time

it was published,

saying that it was nearly impossible

to not eat them all right away

and how few tomatoes

actually made it to the table.

and i understood.

larry and i split one and i warned

him that the rest were for dinner.

but it was early in the day -

dinner was far away and that

was a hard deal for both
of us to keep.

it's just that
they're puckered and their

texture is unclear, until you pop

one in your mouth and you

realize that they are in fact,

incredibly juicy and nothing like

those leathery

sun-dried tomatoes

that i always knew i should

love, but have never been able

to fully embrace.

and their flavor is that of

the most intense tomato,

summery and sweet.

next to sherry vinegar roasted onions

(hey, the oven had been on all day anyway -

what's two more hours at this point?)

and skillet-browned padron chilies,

a round of bucheron

and slices of toasted bread,

they were our tapas-style dinner,

and certainly, the star.

i was glad that i had pulled out

four for a sandwich later in the

week (which i topped with

hummus and basil).

i cannot imagine waiting

another summer to make more,

but goodness,

the day of slow-roasting

was oddly stressful.

at least,

it was worth it.

tears and all.

slow-roasted tomatoes
adapted from a homemade life

molly uses these to make pestos and sauces, which i would probably do next next time, now that i've enjoyed them on their own. here, though, we ate them straight, on a table with other veggies and in a sandwiches. they keep for up to a week. the original recipe calls for 20 tomatoes, which would have been nice to have, but i only used 10.

10 roma tomatoes, still firm

1/2 tablespoon olive oil

ground coriander

kosher salt

heat oven to 200 degree. using sharp paring knife, core tomatoes; halve each tomato. place in bowl and toss with olive oil. place, cut side up on baking sheet.

sprinkle tomatoes with pinches of ground coriander and salt.

roast 4 to 6 hours, or until tomatoes are 1/3 their original size, but are still juicy. let cool.

enjoy tomatoes warm or at room temperature.