orecchiette with arugula-caper pesto, roasted tomatoes and pistachio breadcrumbs

there are times that i

think - even as i'm cooking,

even as i'm taking pictures -

that this is not a recipe worth

sharing with you. it's too

traditional, too thrown together

on a weeknight, too convoluted,

too unphotogenic, too...uninteresting.

but, i continue to cook the ingredients.

i continue to take pictures.

and usually, when it's all over and larry's

doing the dishes, i think yep, that was fine,

but, that was a dinner that was just for us:

no one will ever know about it.

but, other times, i take a bite,

still agreeing with my original

sentiment - that it's boring, simple,

fussy - but, also:

worth sharing.

and still, after all that, i almost

didn't write about this dish.

it's pasta with pesto, after all.

but, it was really good.

the arugula pesto, which should

have been bitter, was rounded out

with briny capers and roasted pistachios.

the kalamata olives added pockets of

saltiness and the roasted tomatoes

were bursting with garlicky sweetness.

they all came together thanks to the

toasted panko, pistachio and lemon zest

topping, which was sprinkled on

before serving.

and, i think, as i'm telling you about it,

that this pasta sounds both

expected and complicated.

but it's neither and it came together

quite quickly.

here's how:

i tossed some pistachios and panko

into the food processor, whirled them

around for a bit and then set them into

a pan over medium heat.

while one eye watched the

breadcrumbs, i pulsed the rest of the

nuts with garlic and cheese, pulsed in

arugula and capers and smoothed the

whole thing out with droplets of olive oil.

and, if we hadn't had a near oven fire - thanks

to a drippy packet of roasted garlic over the weekend -

here's what i would have done first:

i would have placed grape tomatoes in a dish,

with cloves of skin-on garlic,

olive oil, salt and pepper. i would have given

everything a good shake and then popped

them in the oven for about 4o minutes,

until their skins had burst,

the juice at the bottom was bubbly

and the garlic was tender.

but, we did have an incident that involved

a lot of smoke and so, instead, of starting with

that, i waited until larry came home from work

and very kindly gave the oven floor a scrub.

while they cooked, the breadcrumbs sat,

the flavors of the pesto melded together and

the pasta cooked. once they were out of the oven,

everything came together in less than five minutes.

so that was it.

kind of traditional.

kind of seemingly fussy.

kind of enjoyable.

hope you don't mind me sharing.

orecchiette with arugula-caper pesto, roasted tomatoes and pistachio breadcrumbs

there are a couple items of note in this recipe. first, the pistachios that i used were already roasted, so i was pretty careful when i toasted them with the breadcrumbs. however, if they had not been, i would have toasted the 1/3 cup i used for the pesto. secondly, i used the saltiness of the capers to mellow the bitterness of arugula (i didn't want a repeat version of this one). but, because i had a lot of arugula, i tossed some leaves into the pasta before mixing. this definitely ups the bitter quotient, so if that's not for you, don't feel that you need to add the extra arugula. and as with all pestos, feel free to mix and match the nuts or hard cheeses that you use.

2 cups grape tomatoes

5 large cloves garlic, (3 cloves unpeeled), divided

1/4 cup, plus 1/3 cup shelled pistachios, divided

1/4 cup panko breadcrumbs

1 lemon

olive oil (1 tablespoon, plus 1 teaspoon, plus about 1/3 cup for pesto)

1/3 cup grated pecorino romano

2 packed cups baby arugula, plus one or two extra handfuls, divided

3 tablespoons caper brine

3 tablespoons capers

1 box (16 ounces) orecchiette

1/2 cup chopped kalamata olives

heat oven to 375˚f. in small dish (i used an 8 x 8 ceramic dish), combine tomatoes, unpeeled garlic, 1 tablespoon of olive oil and salt and pepper, to taste. shake to coat tomatoes and garlic. bake 35-40 minutes, or until tomato skins have split and garlic is soft. when cool enough to handle, peel garlic (the cloves should slip out of their skin) and coarsely chop or mash; set aside.

in bowl of food processor, combine 1/4 cup pistachios and panko; pulse 10 times, or until pistachios are ground into tiny pebbles. in small skillet over medium heat, heat 1 teaspoon olive oil. add breadcrumb mixture and cook 3-4 minutes, or until golden and fragrant, stirring often. transfer mixture to a bowl; season with salt and pepper. using a grater, zest lemon over breadcrumbs; stir to combine and set aside.

wipe out bowl of food processor. in bowl, combine remaining peeled garlic, pecorino romano cheese and remaining pistachios; pulse 5 times or until coarsely combined. add 2 cups arugula arugula and capers; pulse again to combine. with motor running, very slowly drizzle in oil, until the mixture is a lighter shade of green, smooth and fluid (this usually takes about 1/3 cup, but could take up to 1/2 cup). set aside.

before tomatoes are finished roasting, bring a large pot of water to a boil; cook pasta according to the directions on the box, reserving 1 1/2 cups hot pasta water 2 minutes before draining pasta.

place the same pot you cooked the pasta in over medium heat; add about half the water and half the pesto. stir to combine. if the sauce seems overly watery, add a bit more pesto. if using, add the arugula leaves. add the pasta, the kalamata olives, the cooked tomatoes, the roasted garlic and any juices from the baking dish; toss gently to combine, adding additional pesto, if desired, and more of the pasta cooking water if the mixture seems too dry.

divide pasta among plates or bowls; sprinkle with breadcrumb mixture.

marinara-simmered chickpeas with feta

on june 1,

four years ago,

larry and i moved into

our first place together.

we had been a couple

for almost three years and

this move, while a long

time coming, was a huge

decision for me.

i'm someone who takes every

possible outcome very seriously.

it had taken a little soul searching

to settle on this old two bedroom,

two bathroom, two parking spot

space, two blocks from the

george washington bridge,

instead of the brand new

one bedroom

facing the hudson river,

but as soon as we were in, it

felt like the right move.

the movers came on a friday

and it started pouring the second

they left. i quietly thanked someone

for that stroke of good luck, even

though the cable guy was not so lucky

and brought huge puddles onto our

hardwood floors. we grabbed dinner out

that night, and the next night,

my family came and we ordered pizzas.

by sunday, we were unpacked

enough to live. the kitchen, in fact, was

the only thing perfectly

assembled, and i vowed to cook our

first proper meal in our first proper home.

i'm not sure why, but something

made me dip into my someday

stash of recipes. it was a pile i started

making in college, and continued to build

while living with my mom again between

jobs. even though, in college we cooked,

at my mom's house, i cooked, and while

living in my studio, i cooked, it just felt

like the time that i had unknowingly

been saving these recipes for.

i'm not even sure what the big deal was.

none of them were that hard to make.

and, because it was june and hot,

and let's face it,

we were tired from a weekend of work,

i chose a very simple recipe for

feta and chickpeas

simmered in tomato sauce

and served over orzo.

larry sat with me as i cooked.

we both realized, we both live here, now.

no one's going anywhere.

when it was time to serve the pasta,

i was bummed. i wanted our first meal

to be perfect - a hopeful symbol of the time

to come in this apartment that was ours.

but this one wasn't.

the feta kinda, sorta melted,

creating a granular sauce.

the flavor was ok, i guess.

i promised myself that i would

recreate this very fast dish. make it

into something that was secondhand

and delicious. i would make it my own.

but, things happen. and, sometimes

i forget my promises to myself.

we were too busy learning how

to be a couple who lived together,

who shared responsibilities and each

other's lives.

we were busy working,

and when i unexpectedly,

(in life, not in the moment -

i really never make impetuous choices)

decided to go to culinary school,

we were busy getting me through,

emotionally. we stayed together in the kitchen,

night after night of my first couple

weeks as i peeled potatoes and desperately

tried to cut them into perfect little cubes,

crying most of the time.

and on sundays, after a full weekend of

class, when i couldn't even think of

stepping in the kitchen, larry

would make dinner -

usually a marinara sauce,

which he perfected by the time

i graduated.

we were busy,

both quitting our jobs

- mine of six years -

and starting new ones,

in a very scary two week period.

two years later, i can say it was

a good decision.

and we were busy,

getting engaged one friday

on the floor of our dining room,

too excited to do anything,

but stay on the floor, calling

our family and friends.

a year and a half later, we were

busy, leaving our home as

brooke and larry and coming back

two days later as well, still

brooke and larry, because i could

not decide if i wanted to change

my last name. but we were married.

and one day later, we left for

our honeymoon, coming back after

a week of rainy barbados weather,

to our home.

we were busy,

as i started this blog and a normal

night of making dinner, eating dinner

and watching how i met your mother,

turned into a night of taking a million

pictures as i make dinner, downloading

pictures, editing and uploading pictures,

blogging, and now, tweeting.

and most recently,

we've been busy, making another huge

decision that took us a long time to arrive upon:

to move out of what has very

clearly become our home. we're moving

over an hour away to a house that does

not remember us learning how to live

together, my culinary school trials,

our engagement or the first

year and a half of our marriage.

but, it is much, much closer

to my family, it has enough

rooms to make new memories

without suffering overcrowding

from my large pocketbook collection

or williams-sonoma boxes, like some

places i know. it has a kitchen with

a lot of natural light, which the camera

will love if i actually get home before

sundown to use it.

because, yes, i'm keeping

my job up here. my job,

that sometimes keeps me way later

than i think i'll be staying when i start

my day. and my job, that last week,

on one of these crazy days, for some

reason reminded me of that

pasta dish with chickpeas and feta.

it had come back to me a few months

ago, when a coworker talked about and

ultimately made, one of her favorite dishes,

chickpeas simmered in marinara sauce.

a little bell went off in the back of my head.

but then, last week, when i was running late

and my plan for a potato and eggplant curry

flew out the door two hours before, i remembered

the dish, my promise to make it right,

and knew i could make it fast.

and it was fast.

i got home after 8pm and by 9pm,

dinner was ready. i had made a very

quick sauce, simmered with canned chickpeas,

stirred in beautifully-melting

goat cheese, and tossed the whole thing

with pasta. it was not so pretty. it tasted kind

of gummy. it didn't work.

four years of keeping

a dish lodged firmly in the back of my mind,

for this?

i was going to make it right.

and soon. we're on borrowed time in

fort lee and i am not letting another couple of years

go by. so, i started with dried chickpeas,

which i soaked and cooked with a few cloves

of garlic on sunday.

monday night, i remade the white wine-laced

tomato sauce, stirring in the chickpeas to

simmer for about 25 minutes, while

i made a pot of israeli couscous, halved

a lemon, plucked basil leaves and crumbled feta.

yes, i went back to feta.

because, yes, i loved the idea of the cheese

making the whole sauce a little luxuriously creamy,

but there's something pretty amazing

about crumbles of feta

occasionally finding their way onto your

fork, too. the only difference, was that i splurged

and bought my favorite, very creamy,

sheep and goat feta, which when warmed,

is lovely.

when the sauce was ready,

i squeezed in lemon for brightness

and dropped in torn basil leaves for freshness

and much needed color.

two very worthwhile additions.

after spooning the whole thing

atop couscous - seemingly

much more appropriate than pasta -

i sprinkled on some of that crumbled feta.

and, i felt very good about that decision.

marinara-simmered chickpeas with feta

i've added red pepper flakes in with the onions before sauteing to give the entire dish a little heat and the lemon and basil really add another dimension to this otherwise potentially predictable sauce. all three could be increased or decreased according to your taste. i wish i could tell you how i cooked the couscous, which i ultimately tossed with a bit of lemon juice and grated parm, but something was absolutely lost in translation between my memory of making israeli couscous and the execution. if anyone has a foolproof method for the toasting-absorption method, please let me know.

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large sweet onion, peeled and diced

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

5 large cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1/3 cup white wine

1 can (32 ounces) plum tomatoes

1 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked and cooked* or 2 cans (14 ounces each) chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 large juicy lemon, halved and seeded

25-30 large basil leaves

cooked couscous or orzo for serving

4 ounces sheep and goat feta, crumbled

grated parm

in large skillet, heat olive oil over medium-high heat; when hot, add onions and red pepper flakes. season with salt and black pepper. cook 2 minutes. reduce heat to medium-low and cook 10 minutes, or until softened. increase heat to medium and cook 5 minutes more, or until just starting to turn golden. add garlic. cook 1 minute more, or until tender, stirring constantly.

add wine; increase heat to high and boil 2 minutes, or until mostly reduced, stirring occasionally. add plum tomatoes, breaking them up with your hands as you add them to the skillet; add juice from can. season with salt and pepper. bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer 15 minutes. add chickpeas; simmer 25-30 minutes, or until the chickpeas are tender and the mixture has thickened. adjust seasoning.

squeeze lemon juice into sauce; stir to combine. working quickly, tear basil leaves into small pieces and add to sauce. cook 30 seconds more, or until basil is wilted. serve over cooked couscous or orzo. sprinkle with feta. serve with plenty of grated parm for sprinkling at the table.

*to cook dried beans: rinse chickpeas. place in large bowl and cover with several inches of cold water. let sit at least 8 hours. drain beans and rinse. place chickpeas in a large saucepot. add three cloves smashed garlic. cover with 8 cups water; bring to a boil. reduce heat; cook at a bare simmer 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until tender. if not using chickpeas right away, let cool completely in their cooking liquid; store in the liquid, in the fridge, until ready to use.

it's tempting to resent the rain. i'm trying to embrace it. sort of.

as much as we should cook

for the seasons -

buy tomatoes in august,

oranges in january,

asparagus in april -

it's often so much more

tempting to cook for

the weather.

because you can toss

peas with favas and artichokes

as much as you want -

and you may even

like it -

but it won't help anyone

forget that it's been

raining in new jersey

for three weeks, easy.

it won't make you pass over

the details, like

everyday, you come home with

your shoes looking a little

worse for the wear and

the hem of your pants,

wet again.

it will be hard to recognize

that even though it seems

like salad season,

you really just want

a bowl of soup.

or this polenta,

which i was recently reminded of.

the first time i made this,

years ago, it was hot outside

(august, hot) and by the time

i had finished stirring the pot

over a high flame and a

piping hot oven, the last

thing i wanted to do was

actually eat a slice.

so since, i have saved it for

fall

winter

and, now, apparently,

gloomy junes.

vegetarian, very fast and easy,

the only thing required is a little

forethought,

or more appropriately,

proper mise en place -

very important because

almost all of your time will

be spent, stirring the polenta

nonstop, waiting for it to come to

a boil, and after,

making sure it doesn't scorch on

the bottom.

then once this quick cooking

polenta is thick, creamy and smooth,

you quickly stir in

garlic

basil

blue cheese

salt and pepper,

before spreading it evenly into

a skillet or deep pan.

once everything is level,

take the opportunity

to slow down, because the polenta

isn't going anywhere.

this is when you can add toppings,

in an orderly fashion,

or haphazardly, depending on

which style suits you best.

tomatoes,

garlic,

mozzarella

and

more blue.

slide the skillet into

the oven and then you have

18 minutes

to make a salad.

polenta as a meal, is

a wonderful, delicious

idea, but i always feel

like we need some greens

to balance out the wedge

on the plate.

when the table's set,

the salads are out

and everything smells

so good, you can

just picture the cheese

browning and bubbling

around the edges,

pull it from the oven,

and then - and i'll warn

you, this is the hardest part -

wait.

this waiting step,

in addition to upping the original

cooking time by two minutes,

took me sadly too long

to figure out, but thank goodness

i finally did. now, i can pass

this recipe onto you without

an asterick, that would let

you know that this dish

tastes amazing, but will not

cut into a proper wedge

warm and will look

an absolute mess on

the plate.

the polenta comes out

very hot and the last thing

it wants to do is conform

into whatever cut shape

you desire. no, it is very

content to be scooped

out, looking more like

mush, or maybe to be polite

and fair to our main meal,

soft polenta.

but...like all things great,

this polenta shouldn't be rushed.

give the skillet a few extra

minutes in the oven.

once on the table,

let it hang out, get used to

its surroundings while

you enjoy your salad.

then.

and only then.

you can slice past the

(semi-seasonal!)

juicy tomatoes and

fragrant basil,

though the two cheeses -

one for melting and one

for flavor -

into the creamy, but firm,

cornmeal,

and it will be ready to

comply and come much

closer to resembling

the triangular wedge

you intended.

once on the plate,

cozy up to it. settle

in. pretend it's winter

and not a march day in

june. remember that yes,

it's raining, yes it's gross outside

and yes, it's unbelievably

annoying. but if it wasn't,

you'd probably be eating

something else.

baked blue cheese polenta with tomatoes and basil

adapted from bon appetit magazine

a big plus for this recipe is that once you've stirred the cornmeal into a creamy base and added the ingredients, you can taste the mixture (swiftly) and decide what else it needs. it was this grace period that made me decide to up the basil and add both garlic and blue cheese to the polenta - not just sprinkle it on top. i also use grape tomatoes instead of cherry, toss in more garlic and extra grated mozzarella. i use whatever blue i happen to have, but if you're in the store shopping, look for one that melts well, like buttermilk, point reyes or danish. feel free to increase or decrease the amounts, depending on what you love.

also, i usually prepare everything - halve the tomatoes, chop the garlic, grate and crumble the cheeses - ahead of time. except for the basil, because i don't want it to brown. so instead, i pluck 20 to 30 leaves, lay them into two piles and once the polenta is done, very quickly, roll them into a cigar and slice thinly.

4 cups water

1 1/3 cups cornmeal

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon olive oil

4 cloves garlic, peeled, chopped and divided

30 large basil leaves, or more

6 ounces blue cheese, crumbled and divided

1 pint grape tomatoes, halved

1 1/4 cups grated part-skim mozzarella cheese

heat oven to 450˚f. coat 12" skillet with a heatproof handle with cooking spray; set aside. (if your skillet's handle is not heatproof, or you're not sure, just wrap it twice with aluminum foil - like i do - to ensure that nothing but the cheese melts in the oven. warning: regardless of if it's wrapped or not, you'll still need an oven mitt to remove the pan from the oven.)

in large saucepot, combine water, cornmeal and salt. bring to a boil over medium-high heat, whisking constantly. reduce heat to medium-low and cook 3 minutes more, or until polenta becomes very thick and pulls away from the pan, whisking constantly. remove from heat; whisk in olive oil and half chopped garlic. quickly roll basil into cigar shape and thinly slice; sprinkle half on top of polenta. add 2 ounces blue cheese; whisk to combine. season with kosher salt and black pepper, to taste.

transfer polenta to prepared skillet, patting evenly. sprinkle with remaining garlic and grape tomatoes; press tomatoes slightly into polenta. sprinkle with mozzarella cheese, remaining blue cheese and remaining basil, slicing more basil, if necessary.

bake 18 minutes, or until cheese is browned around the edges and bubbling. remove from oven and let sit 10 to 15 minutes. cut into wedges to serve.