kale and pumpkin seed risotto

when we first decided to buy

this house, one of the things i

was most excited about was

the kitchen. yes, it was

painted four colors, each one

worse than the last. no,

it was not as large as i would

have liked. and, no, it did

not come stocked with

designer up-to-date appliances.

but, the wooden cabinets were high,

the counter space was plentiful

and it was hard not to notice the

three huge windows.

our old apartment boasted one tiny

brick-facing piece of glass

on the complete opposite

side of the kitchen workspace.

my first thought?

finally, i can get some good pictures.

but, people.

this kitchen is full of deception.

how did we not realize that there

is only one very dim, very yellow

light in the entire room?

the windows offer little help.

it's hard enough to

see the food when we cook.

taking pictures? well, unless

i decide to quit my job and

cook every meal in the middle

of the day, they're kind of a joke.

i find myself rushing home,

trying to catch the last moments

of sunlight and learning that even

when there's dimming daylight

outside, it's still too dark.

this kale?

i took at least 30 pictures in

six different places in the kitchen.

this, standing directly in front of the window,

is the best of the bunch,

(see my neighbor's pathway

blurry in the background?).

i hoped that maybe my eyes

were playing tricks on me.

that maybe, when they were on

off the camera and blown up on

the computer screen i would realize

that it wasn't so bad. but, i've

come to terms with the fact that

clearly, we have a situation here.

i'm going to do the best i can

going forward into the colder

and darker months. i'm going

to research new lenses and

find a reliable electrician to

install usable lights into

our ceiling and invest in different

window treatments for our windows.

and, i'm going to make us

more of this risotto. because even

if the few pictures might not be so

pretty, this is the kind of meal

you want to have in your cooking

arsenal on chilly, dark, winter nights.

i think risotto has a bad reputation.

when i told my grandmother that

i was making it for dinner, she was

shocked that i would attempt such a

laborious dish on a work night. but,

in case you haven't made risotto yourself,

here's the deal: the total time is short.

it's the hands-on time that risks becoming

a turn off. because really, all you have to

do is heat up some broth, saute onions,

pop open a bottle of wine and commit

to stirring for about 20-25 minutes.

i usually convince larry to hang out with

me during the stirring, but i've also

found that itunes, a phone call or

my own thoughts

are enough to distract me from

the potentially monotonous activity.

the method for this risotto echos

the most classic recipes. but, it

was the two title ingredients that

intrigued me enough to give it a go.

we, like many people i know, have

become big kale eaters over the past

year and i've discovered that even

though i had previously

avoided the leaves for

fear of overtly bitter notes, we are never

fighting through eating the greens.

i loved the idea of stirring tender,

but still hearty, strands

into the al dente grains.

i also liked that by first boiling the leaves

in chicken broth, their flavor

infuses the rice's cooking liquid.

the toasted pumpkin seeds were

the second reason that i wanted into

this dish. risotto is lovely - creamy,

indulgent and full of comfort. but,

like a plain bowl of vanilla ice cream (also,

creamy, indulgent and full of comfort),

i get bored with an entire serving of one

texture. crisp lightly salted pumpkin seeds

were the perfect foil.

on this night,

i wanted the pepitas seeds

out of the way.

i started by toasting them

until they were puffy and golden,

then drizzled with oil and a touch

of kosher salt, per the recipe,

before adding a couple dashes of

cayenne, to add a touch of spice to

the finished dish.

next, while the onions sauteed,

i simmered the chopped kale in

a mixture of chicken broth and water

(next time i would use all chicken broth),

before draining the greens and setting

them aside. from there on, it was

business as usual,

adding a bit of chopped garlic,

then the rice to the onions.

deglazing with white wine

and then adding the broth,

by the ladleful, all the while,

stirring the mixture.

when creamy,

i mixed in a pat of butter,

a healthy handful of grated pecorino romano,

the kale and generous squeezes

of lemon juice that i was pretty sure

the mixture would need. i tasted it

and wished that i had replaced part

of the grated cheese with goat cheese.

i think the tang would have put the whole

dish over the top. but still, i was happy.

i violated every photography rule out

there and placed the plates of

pumpkin seed-sprinkled risotto

directly under that one dim light in the

kitchen and hoped for the best.

then, i let go.

it is, after all, risotto.

it waits for no one.

especially not,

a poorly lit kitchen and

an amateur photographer.

kale and pumpkin seed risotto

adapted from gourmet magazine

if you've never made risotto before, this one does have a couple extra steps, but nothing that you can't handle. i will say, though that this is a perfect recipe to practice your mise en place.

i made several changes: i used a greater ratio of chicken broth to water than called for - as i said above, next time i would use all chicken broth. i chopped the kale before cooking, instead of cooking, straining and cutting as it instructs in the recipe. i used an entire white onion instead of measuring, switched in pecorino romano for the parmigiano-regianno, squeezed in lemon juice and added cayenne pepper to the pumpkin seeds to give the dish a slightly spicy edge. i'm writing it below as i made it, but i do think that next time i would increase the garlic, add more lemon and if i was feeling completely indulgent, stir in some of that goat cheese.

spicy pumpkin seeds

1 cup hulled raw pumpkin seeds

1 teaspoon olive oil

kosher salt

cayenne pepper

in dry heavy skillet over medium heat, cook pumpkin seeds 5 minutes, or until puffed and golden. remove from heat; stir in olive oil. season with salt and cayenne to taste. set aside.

5 cups low-sodium or homemade chicken broth

3 cups water

1 teaspoon kosher salt

3/4 pound lacinato kale

1 white onion, peeled and finely chopped

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed and divided

3 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 1/2 cups arborio or carnaroli rice (10 ounces)

1/3 cup white wine

1 juicy lemon, juiced

1/2 cup grated pecorino romano

in saucepot, bring broth and water to a boil; add 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt.

meanwhile, cut stems and center ribs from kale; discard. cut kale into 1-inch ribbons. add kale to broth in batches, stirring between additions. reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes, or until kale is tender. carefully pour into strainer set over a large bowl; press on kale to extract as much liquid as possible. transfer liquid back into saucepot; turn heat to low.

meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon butter until melted and hot; add onion and 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt. cover; reduce heat to low. cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until translucent. add garlic; cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly. add rice and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly.

increase heat to medium; add wine and simmer until absorbed, stirring constantly. stir in 1/2 cup warm broth; stir constantly until broth is absorbed. add broth, 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly and waiting until the liquid is absorbed. you can stop adding the broth when the mixture is creamy and the rice is tender, but still al dente, about 18-22 minutes. reduce heat to low.

stir in kale, lemon juice, remaining butter, cheese and salt and pepper to taste. cook 1 minute more to incorporate. stir in some of the remaining broth mixture to thin out, if desired.

transfer to serving bowls; sprinkle with toasted pumpkin seeds. serve with extra pecorino romano for sprinkling, if desired.

free-form fig tart

in effort to get myself back on track,

i invited my family for dinner.

i spent one week thinking and

talking about making lasagna,

but it wasn't until the morning of

that i actually started to look

at recipes.

i've said before that when i'm

cooking a bunch of things, i

prefer to wake up with the

ingredients already in the house.

it was unsettling to make a list

at 11am, leave the house, head

to two grocery stores to collect

five different kinds of cheeses,

three packages of lasagna noodles,

a lot of romaine,

several cans of plum tomatoes,

two loaves of bread,

three heads of garlic

and many other odds and ends.

on the menu:

romaine salad with slow-roasted tomatoes and blue cheese

butternut squash, hazelnut and sage lasagna

spicy turkey sausage and spinach lasagna

garlic bread with chives and lemon zest

fig tart with vanilla bean ice cream

it was a lot.

i even - and this is hard for me

to admit - made a list.

and that's why, when we got home

at 12:30, i started cooking,

grabbed my camera and took

exactly two pictures.

it wasn't until

i pulled the lasagnas out of the oven

that i remembered the camera,

lonely and abandoned,

on the far end of the kitchen.

the lasagnas were a huge hit

and probably catapulted the

night to the top of our dinner

party list. but, without any pictures,

they're a hard sell. so, instead,

i want to tell you about the

delicious, gorgeously rustic,

fig tart.

truth be told,

there aren't many pictures

of the fig tart either,

but this is a dessert that

is both so fast, lovely and simple that

i still feel ok talking about it.

two days before the dinner,

i decided to make crack pie -

we've talked about it in our

office many times and when

the recipe appeared in the

september issue of bon appetit,

i was thrilled. even though

it's a multi-step dessert -

asking you to make cookies,

then grind them up to form

the crust, i knew that it would

be worth it and that my family

would love the pie.

the day before, i started to doubt

the whole thing. i had to work

late that night and i still

didn't have lasagna recipes

chosen. i switched my focus

to a chess pie, a dessert that

every summer i vow to make,

but never do.

but, now it was the morning

of the dinner. i had gotten

home from work at 9pm

the night before and in spite

of drinking two cups of coffee,

i was still feeling that

maybe i unknowingly took

a sleeping pill last night feeling

(i hadn't). between the yet to be picked

lasagna recipes and the tomatoes,

i knew that i would need the oven

for most of the afternoon,

i was again doubting my choice.

and just like that,

the chess pie was out.

i don't remember what i searched

in google. but, the best fig tart, ever,

from chez pim popped up in the first

spot. i scanned the recipe, looked at

the pictures, understood that i would

have to commit to spending a pretty

penny on a lot of figs, that i would

have to make an almond filling

and that i would have to make pastry dough.

i also realized that it is fig season,

that the whole dessert could look a little

imperfect and still be delicious and that

after years of fearing homemade pie dough,

i can now hold my own.

so, somewhere in between

roasting the squash and frying the sage leaves,

i tossed

flour,

sugar,

salt,

butter and

water into the food processor.

while i peeled the roasted garlic,

larry grabbed the dough, flattened

it into a disk and covered with plastic

wrap and chilled until ready to use.

as larry started to cook the sausage,

i tossed roasted almonds and sugar

into the food processor before adding

butter and an egg. the mixture was really

thin, but at that moment the bechamel

started to boil, so i switched gears. when

i returned to the frangipane, it had

thickened nicely.

and when all parts

of both lasagnas were just waiting to be

assembled, i quartered the ripe,

sweet black mission figs, rolled the dough

into a shape that sort of resembled a circle,

and spread the frangipane to just an inch

of the edge. i added the figs, from the inside

out, in sort of concentric circles and folded

the dough in to form a crust.

i sighed and realized that even though i really

didn't want to, i would later regret not

brushing the dough with an egg wash. so i did,

before sprinkling on coarse sugar crystals.

dessert was made and it took less than 20 minutes.

i loosely covered the tart, placed it

back in the fridge and kept it there

until we sat down to eat the salads.

while we ate, the tart baked,

sweetly scenting the house

with caramel and jam.

i wasn't sure which way my family

would fall with this tart - figs are not

something we saw

a lot of growing up. but later,

after playing a very passionate

game of catchphrase, i cut seven slices

and larry added a scoop of vanilla ice cream

to each. we sat around the table.

we ate. just a couple crumbs were left

on only a few plates.

and that night,

i fell asleep glad that we pulled

off a marathon dinner in only a fraction

of the time. i was glad that when

my family arrived, the kitchen

was clean and i was calmly tearing

romaine leaves into a bowl. i was

glad that everyone had a good time.

and, i was glad, that even though

i can often go a little overboard

in the kitchen and out,

i'm starting to know where

to draw the line.

free-form fig tart

adapted from chez pim

i used my standby recipe for the dough that i've written about several times. it's worth repeating it here, so that you don't have to worry about going to another page. als0 - it's up to you, but i always re-chill my pies and tarts for at least 20 minutes before baking to ensure that the dough firms back up, producing a flaky crust. i used black mission figs, but i think that if you find fresh turkish figs in the market, you would enjoy a tart made with those, too.

the almond paste mixture calls for a combination of confectioners' sugar and granulated sugar. if you do not have confectioners' just use 1/3 cup total of granulated sugar.

one more thing: i didn't realize this until i started to write out the recipe, but apparently, i really should not pretend that i can handle math. the recipe called for 75 grams of butter, which i thought i had successfully converted to tablespoons. however, upon further inspection attempting to reconvert for you, it looks like i undershot. and that, probably, is why my almond filling was so thin. below, the correct amount.

pastry dough:

10 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon granulated sugar

1-3 tablespoons ice cold water

cut butter into cubes; place back in fridge until ready to use. in bowl of food processor fitted with the dough attachment, pulse together flour, salt and sugar until combined. add cold butter; pulse just until combined and the mixture resembles small pebbles. with food processor running, drizzle in 1 tablespoon water through tube. continue to drizzle in water, a few drops at a time, just until the mixture combines and forms a cohesive dough. form dough into a ball and flatten into a disc; wrap in plastic wrap. keep in fridge until ready to use.

frangipane

heaping 1/2 cup whole almonds, toasted and cooled

1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

1/8 cup granulated sugar

1/3 cup butter, at room temperature

1 large egg, at room temperature

in bowl of food processor, combine almonds and sugar; process until fine. add the butter and the egg; pulse until completely combined. chill three quarters of the mixture for another use.

fig tart

pastry dough

1/4 frangipane mixture

15 medium black mission figs, quartered

1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water

coarse sugar

heat oven to 400˚f. place dough between two pieces of plastic wrap; using rolling pin, roll dough into 11" round. transfer round to a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, removing plastic wrap. spread dough with frangipane, leaving a 1" border.

starting in the center, place figs on top of frangipane, leaving 1" border. fold dough over figs, pressing to secure.

using pastry brush, coat dough with egg mixture (use a paper towel to carefully sop up any egg that has dripped onto the parchment paper). sprinkle liberally with coarse sugar.

chill loosely covered at least 20 minutes. bake 40-50 minutes, or until golden brown. let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.