not so fancy

the first time 

i ordered risotto,

i was six week into

my first real job, at a

get-to-know-your-coworkers

lunch.

i had never even tasted

a fork-full, but i had

heard the stories

of never ending stirring

over a hot stove

and i thought,

this must be very

sophisticated.

(um...i know.)

i had been eyeing up the dish

and when others at the table

selected the same thing,

i thought,

i'm going for it.

it was gummy,

very heavy and dotted

with undercooked diced

vegetables that made

the dish seem

the furthest

thing from fancy.

i wrote it off,

and checked it off:

sure, i never really wanted

to eat it again,

but at least i could say i

had experienced it.

then two years later,

at a press trip for work

at the amazing

julia's kitchen,

in napa

they served corn risotto

as an appetizer.

it was indescribably good:

slightly al dente arborio rice,

ultra creamy

and

bursting

with

fresh kernels

of sweet corn

sitting in a foamy parmesan broth.

when i came home,

i decided that i was going to make

a pot myself.

i stood, scared

to ever stop

moving the spoon,

worried that the one second

that i used to transfer

warm chicken stock

into the rice,

would ruin the whole

mixture.

in school,

two years later,

my fear of ruining

risotto dissipated.

when you're forced

to make something

over and

over and

over again

that tends to happen.

for me, it became a fun

process,

stirring the

slightly toasted rice

and softened onions

(mostly) constantly,

adding warmed stock,

ladle by ladle,

and watching the grains

absorb the liquid,

timing it just right.

i loved

discovering that other

grains are just as capable

of releasing their

starches

to create a creamy

risotto-like dish.

the process is the same,

give or take the cooking time.

whole grains

generally require a longer

stay over the flame

to reach a toothsome

tenderness.

and the finished product

is often hardier,

filling in a slightly

different way

than the white rice version.

it also makes it not

quite as elegant a meal,

more of a casual salve

for a cold night

at home.

this one is made

with barley,

which just feels so winter,

but i imagine,

when done right,

could be so spring, too.

peas and chives give

the mixture a pop

of color and a change

in flavor, which

is quite welcome with

such an admittedly,

monotone dish.

and, my favorite part

came from using a

mixture of

mushroom and chicken

stocks,

imparting

a noticeable earthiness.

give yourself an hour

from start to finish.

it will not be a stressful

60 minutes,

or so exciting,

either,

but on the plus side,

it will help you

strengthen your

stirring muscle.

when you're finished,

you'll have a

hot hearty pot,

that tastes special,

but lets you feel

like you can

relax,

feed a bunch

of people

and forget

to care

whether

or not

the dish is

sophisticated.

barley risotto with peas and parmesan

if you're crazy for mushrooms, feel free to go 100% mushroom stock. for a more subtle flavor, mix the two like i did, or if you can't stand them, leave it out. i'm able to find 32 oz. containers of mushroom stock at specialty or slightly gourmet grocery stores. adding shrimp, scallops or even sauteed chicken would be delicious and make for a more substantial meal.

8-10 cups chicken and/or mushroom stock

2 Tbs. unsalted butter

1 medium onion, peeled and diced

3 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 pkg. (16 oz.) barley

1 pkg. (16 oz.) frozen peas, thawed

1/4 cup snipped fresh chives

1/2 cup parmesan cheese, plus extra

for passing at the table

in saucepot, bring stock to a simmer; reduce heat to low.

meanwhile, in large skillet or medium saucepot, melt butter over medium heat. add onions and garlic and cook 10 minutes, or until softened and translucent, but not browned. season with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. add barley and cook 2 minutes, stirring to coat.

add 1/2 cup warmed stock and cook 3 minutes, or until liquid is absorbed, stirring almost constantly. add 1/2 cup stock and cook 3 minutes more, or until liquid is absorbed, stirring. repeat process until grains have released their starches, have swelled and are tender to the bite. the process should take about 45 minutes - you may not need all of the liquid.

stir in peas, chives and parmesan cheese. cook 1 minute, or until warmed through. season with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. divide risotto among bowls; pass additional cheese at the table.

finding my footing

in school, i often doubted

myself, believing that i 

didn't belong,

that i shouldn't 

have ventured

too far from my

journalism degree.

i thought

that i was not meant

to work

alongside

the ambitious,

the ones who were 

so excited to

butcher a rabbit,

burn 3-inch scars

into their arms

to prove they were chefs

and 

loved the prospect of

12 hour days, 

standing,

sweating,

constantly cooking.

in the beginning,

i would stay in my assigned spot,

close to tears,

shaking

and muttering

to myself,

i'm a writer, 

i'm not meant to be here,

praying that i wouldn't cry

in front of the tattooed,

boy's club men who were able

to bone a leg of lamb in the

45 minutes allotted,

without having the instructor

suggest that they take

the piece of lamb,

plus an extra,

home

to finish and practice there.

they didn't have to lug several

pounds of meat into their car 

and drive down the fdr,

wondering if they would ever

dare quit. 

or worse, 

get thrown out.

they thought everyday was fun.

in the beginning, 

i didn't.

but i stayed. 

and

then we started the third

month with a new

instructor and a more

methodical style.

soon after,

he had us on repeat,

peeling 10 carrots

and then 10 potatoes

and then 10 turnips

all with a paring knife.

and i realized,

that i still wasn't especially

good at any of those things,

but i like what doesn't change.

i have the patience for dicing

30 onions for mirepoix,

frosting dozens of cupcakes,

drizzling in oil

drop by drop 

for pesto. 

i like the that i can figure it out,

then press replay

and 

zone out,

perfecting as i go. 

a lot of that,

combined with the 

fact that i 

refused from

somewhere deep

down (so far down that was

admittedly often hard to find)

to let the bullies in 

my class or the ones in my head,

keep me from finishing,

kept me in the program.

and, it's often what drives 

me to think it's a good idea 

to cook

assembly line projects

after work. 

the prospect

makes me feel like

i'm a cook, home or otherwise,

who can handle anything

(even though i know that if 

today you handed me a leg 

of lamb, i'd have no idea where

to even start to remove the bone).

and, so, this week,

in spite of barely sleeping

and one of those

colds that makes you feel

like your head is rattling around,

hovering somewhere foggily above

your body,

i made a recipe that i clipped

years ago from bon appetit:

roasted eggplant soup with

goat cheese dumplings. 

i've been thinking about it

for quite a long time now,

probably even more since it's so

cold lately.

but, i think i wanted to spend the time

preparing the two-part dish,

to make myself feel better,

to feel capable,

and in control.

to feel grounded.

the soup is simple,

if not slightly time consuming

in what it demands of you:

hanging around

for roasting,

to stir from time to time,

boil here for 10 minutes,

simmer for another 15,

but it is easy.

i'm all for easy, but maybe

that, combined with rather

ho-hum ingredients,

made the soup just ok.

i really love eggplant 

and i thought that the purple

veggie would be enough,

but even if you love eggplant,

a bowl-full is a lot to swallow.

in fairness, i did leave out the fennel,

and i used milk in place of heavy cream

for the final 1/2 cup of liquid. and

when we finally sat down to

eat, it wasn't as one-dimensional

as i feared. it was comforting,

with hints of white wine and leeks.

but the true star, the reason, 

i decided to write about this recipe,

was the dumplings. they were

really very good - 

a smashed

together

mixture of sauteed shallots,

vine-ripened chopped tomato,

basil and

tangy goat cheese, bundled up

in thin wonton wrappers.

we tried them 

gently boiled 

as the recipe suggested,

and very lightly pan-fried

for texture. 

we both prefered

them soft and supple,

but for a cocktail party

pass-around, i would recommend

the second method, drizzled 

with reduced balsamic vinegar

or dipped into a pesto-inspired

sauce. the boiled

ones would make delicious

ravioli on their own and,

as they were originally intended,

really did liven up the soup.

they're soothers to assemble.

the repetition of laying

out squares of dough,

dropping filling in the center,

lining the edge with water,

folding and pressing to seal

felt good.

and luckily, they tasted even better.

roasted eggplant soup

adapted from bon appetit magazine

i did leave the fennel out of this soup, for personal reasons (i don't like it. at all. i know, i know.), swap a yukon gold potato for a russet and use milk instead of cream. those were the only major differences (other little things were mostly increases for flavor) - maybe they would have transformed the soup into something spectacular. if you adore eggplant, this is for you - i just recommend cooking it a day ahead of time. while still mellow, i think it was much more flavorful the next evening. 

if you use a blender, be extremely careful when pureeing: place a dish towel over the covered container and press hard - hot liquids want to get out. if you have an immersion blender, chances are you would have used it already here, but this is the perfect time to take it out.

3 lbs. eggplant, trimmed and halved lengthwise

2 Tbs. unsalted butter

1 medium yukon gold potato

1 large onion, peeled and chopped 

1 leek, sliced, soaked and dried

2 large garlic cloves, peeled and minced

2 tsp. dried oregano

3/4 cup white wine, divided

7 1/2 cups prepared chicken stock

1/2 cup milk

preheat oven to 375˚F. place eggplant halves cut side down on rimmed baking sheet coated with cooking spray. bake 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until very tender. cool.

peel and dice potato (do this last minute to prevent browning). melt butter in large heavy pot. add potato, onion, leek, garlic and oregano; season with salt and pepper. saute 10 minutes. add 1/2 cup wine. cook 2 minutes. add stock; bring mixture to a boil and reduce to low. simmer 15 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. using spoon, remove eggplant flesh from skins; add flesh to soup (discard skins). simmer 10 minutes. working in batches, puree soup in blender and return mixture to pot or use an immersion blender directly in the pot. stir in remaining 1/4 cup white wine and milk. season with salt and pepper.

goat cheese and tomato dumplings

adapted from bon appetit magazine

because i believed the filling was stable enough to stand some tinkering, i adjusted measurements from the original to what i had in the house - i subbed a vine-ripened tomato for plum among other things. i was able to make 28 dumplings - i froze over half for another time (i can't wait). to do: place assembled dumplings on a parchment-lined or foil-lined and flour coated baking sheet. place baking sheet in freezer 1 to 2 hours or until firm. transfer dumplings to a freezer-safe bag. when you're ready to cook, no need to defrost - just add an extra minute or two to the cooking time.

1 Tbs. olive oil

3 medium shallots, peeled and finely chopped 

1 medium vine-ripened tomato, halved, seeded and chopped

1/4 cup finely chopped fresh basil

1 log (4 oz.) goat cheese, crumbled

salt and pepper

1 pkg. prepared wonton wrappers

small bowl of water

in skillet, heat oil over medium heat. add shallots and cook 5 minutes, or until tender, stirring often to prevent burning. let shallots cool. add tomato and basil. stir in goat cheese. season mixture with salt and pepper. 

place parchment paper on baking sheet or line baking sheet with foil and dust with flour.

place four wrappers on clean work surface; cover other wrappers to keep soft. using teaspoon measure, place goat cheese filling in center of wrappers. using your finger, wet the entire outside edge of the wonton wrapper. fold diagonally to make triangle, pressing firmly to seal. transfer to baking sheet.

bring saucepot of shallow water to a boil; season with salt. add half of the dumplings, a couple at a time, and cook 1 - 2 minutes, or until they rise to the top, the wrapper is cooked through and the filling is hot. if serving in the soup, place two in filled bowl.

to pan-fry: heat small amount of olive oil in skillet over medium heat. add dumplings and cook about 1 minute on each side, or until golden brown; remove and place on paper towel, before placing on serving plate or adding to the soup.

samphire, glasswort, salicornia

i haven't slept well for the past few weeks.

this is not really unusual

for me.

at 8,

i became a master tetris player,

a result of

spending

a lot

of

quality time with my father,

who also couldn't sleep,

at two in the morning.

my freshmen year of college

was a blur of sleepless nights.

sadly,

it was because

i couldn't sleep,

and not

because of

all-night partying.

and poor larry.

i cannot tell you how

many nights

he has been forced

to deal with me:

not tired,

nowhere near closing 

my eyes,

and, in fact,

too wired

to lay still and silent.

this past

year brought with it a

new job that

tires me out so well,

for the first time in my life

i sleep easily.

but, the recent weeks

have felt

just like old times.

and while sometimes

(most of the time)

it's horrible and i wish

for a magical wand that will

make me normal,

make me fall asleep within

seconds of my head hitting

the pillow, or at the very least,

within minutes of thinking,

i'm ready for bed now,

other times, it's perfect for

menu planning.

two thursdays ago,

i bought, as i am apt to do,

a very large handful

of a vegetable i didn't

recognize.

their tag

said sea beans,

and as i grabbed a bunch,

of the slim, textured strands,

i imagined stir frying them

with soy sauce and hoisin,

water chestnuts, shiitake mushrooms

and tofu.

but then, i went home

and bit into one.

at the first moment

of the first bite,

the flavor was recognizable:

a close relative of the string bean.

a second later however,

another familiar flavor set-in:

sea water. big gulps of it.

these things are salty.
really salty -

certainly not soy sauce appropriate.

but i paid

for them and

i love a challenge and i was going to use them.

so i turned to cookbooks

and

the internet,

both of which provided

very little information.

basically they're salty,

they have many other names

(hence the title of this post)

they were used

on top chef once or twice,

they're fun as garnishes

and

they were featured in two recipes

in all of epicurious.

if i wanted to make something

with them, i would have

to come up with it myself.

at night, i alternated between

wishing for sleep and day-dreaming

up sea bean recipes -

should they be a side dish?

the main component of the meal?

are they really good in a frittata,

as one recipe online indicated?

chicken or fish? does it really matter?

finally i decided not to drive myself

anymore crazy and 

to just use them in

as a side dish.

if they were still inedible salt licks,

they could be

pushed aside.

we'd still have a piece

of cod (what was i thinking...

chicken? it had to

be fish - they're sea beans,

after all) to enjoy. 

(don't think i'm completely crazy,

there were other things on

my mind, also keeping me up:

taxes,

deciding on a new car, 

brought on by expensive repairs

on my old one,

and an impending cold,

just to name a few. but the

bag of sea beans 

just sitting in the fridge 

was certainly

hard to ignore.)

one thing that i did find helpful

in my research is that

they really should be

blanched.

i usually despise blanching.

it involves dirtying an extra

pot,

bowl

and

strainer.

in school, i did make a small

blanching turn-around -

we had to do it so often,

that setting up

a bowl of ice water

boiling a pot of water

and quickly dipping

veggies

became second nature

and i even started to

embrace the

benefit. blanching

not only par-cooks

the item, but also

locks in color, texture

and flavor to ensure that

when a vegetable is cooked

or placed on a crudites

platter, it stays pretty, 

firm and

bright.

this is the greatest set for blanching. it's a colander that locks into a bowl, so i can drain and plunge into ice water without having to fish inside the bowl of cold water to seek out the veggies (i think it was $2.99.).

with sea beans - there's an added

bonus. normally, sprinkling

salt into the blanching water

is a must, but in this case,

you dunk them in plain water

to extract

some of the salt.

resist the urge to skip

this step.

that being said, the other

thing you should resist,

is the natural inclination to season

with salt while you prepare this

dish. even with the

blanching,

they're salty enough.

the greens make an interesting base

for this shiitake-studded side.

crisp and flavorful, they add great

balance to the 

mushrooms, which when

sauteed

take on quite a rich

and meaty texture.

the lemon and almonds, which

seemed

like a natural

match,

did not disappoint.

and that evening, although,

it was not longlasting,

i slept well.

i must admit two things:

i loved this dish.

larry did not.

he picked everything else out

to eat,

but the poor salty

samphires, were left

untouched

(it's not their fault they're salty!).

i thought that by blanching them,

adding a small amount of peanut oil

and a squirt of lemon

the lot mellowed, but he

felt they were still

a bit much.

i do encourage,

you to give them a go

anyway.

but don't say i didn't warn you:

they let their presence be known,

they will not fade into the background,

they have attitude.

anything worth its salt does.

sea beans with shiitake mushrooms and toasted almonds

1/3 lb. sea beans, trimmed

1/4 cup slivered blanched almonds

1 Tbs. peanut oil, divided

1 shallot, peeled, halved and sliced

1/3 lb. shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and halved

1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 medium lemon, juiced

get ready to blanche: fill a bowl with cold water, add ice cubes (if you have a bowl that a colandar will fit into, use that one). in medium saucepot, bring water to a boil; add sea beans and cook 45 sec. drain into colander. immediately place colander in, or dump sea beans into, a bowl of cold water. swish around until beans are completely cool; drain and dry.

meanwhile, place almonds in a small dry saucepan. turn heat to medium-low and cook 5 minutes, or until almonds are just a light golden brown, shaking the pan often; if they start to become fragrant, remove them from heat immediately. set aside.

in saucepan over medium heat, warm 1 tsp. peanut oil 45 seconds. add sliced shallots and cook 2 minutes, or until shallot are tender and translucent. add remaining 2 tsp. olive oil. add mushrooms and increase heat to medium-high. cook 5 minutes, or until mushrooms are tender. add seabeans and garlic; cook 1 minute. add lemon juice and toasted almonds; cook 1 minute more, stirring often.