there and back again

i have been gone for a long time.

i have been working late or

weird hours and

occupied on the weekends. i have

been committed to a time consuming,

one hundred percent

self-imposed project.

i have been

falling asleep really early

and for at least two weeks, i didn't

even take my camera out of its bag

once. and, i'll be honest with you:

for a little bit there, it was nice.

i didn't make fancy or interesting

things and i didn't feel guilt. i got

our simple dinners on the table

in less than an hour most nights

and when we ate, our food was hot

or cold because, well a lot of times,

it was just a salad.

but, as someone has

taken to reminding me, i have a blog

and i have been ignoring it. so, while

now, i kind of wish i had taken

the time to talk about my mom's birthday,

the delicious roasted grapes i made one evening

or the red bank farmer's market we've made

an effort to frequent on some weekends,

i'm skipping them. instead, opting to

get back on track with our vacation to

san diego and temecula last week.

the san diego part of the trip had been

planned for over a year.

one of larry's oldest friends,

joe was marrying his girlfriend, jen.

larry is one of those lucky people whose

high school (or maybe i should say

elementary school) friends have sustained

the test of time. six of them attended different

colleges, followed varied careers and some

have moved to different parts of the country.

but still, their friendship has stayed a top

priority to all of them. everyone came together

two years ago for our wedding and we finished

off august by meeting in san diego for joe's,

a couple years after he had moved to the west coast.

the weekend turned out to be just as much

about time together as it was the wedding

and from thursday, at the margaritas and taco

party at joe and jen's apartment building

to sunday morning at brunch, that's what

we did. but, saturday.

saturday was all about the wedding.

after, the wedding, we took a few days to ourselves,

traveling to temecula, southern california's answer

to wine country. originally, we had been torn

between hawaii and sonoma, but becoming

homeowners had made our decision significantly

easier: three days and driving distance.

i treated these three days with little respect.

as the trip neared, it became apparent

that this was an awful time to travel, work-wise.

i was hesitant to spend the money to go

somewhere for even three days

and truth be told,

i just wasn't so interested in any of it.

suddenly, it was the 18th of august

and i realized that even

though we had owned our plane tickets

for months, we were leaving on the 26th

without a second hotel reservation.

this is not me.

i research. like crazy.

i read reviews. like crazy.

i find the perfect-fit funky restaurants

that we absolutely must visit and even

if i won't quite admit it, i have the days

mostly decided in my head.

like, maybe, i'm a little crazy.

but this time?

no reservation.

no research.

no restaurants.

a friend of the family had recommended

temecula a few weeks before. i looked at

a couple hotels, skimmed a couple opinions,

shrugged and booked.

kind of disrespectful.

and, now, we were in the car,

driving to this temecula place,

with only a little extra information:

there was a winery famous for

almond champagne, the vineyard

we were staying in allowed

eating grapes off the vine and

the town housed a casino.

it was beautiful and we were

blessed with gorgeous weather,

a welcome change from the sweltering

east coast heat we had been

battling all summer. the area wineries

and streets proved charming enough

that i rarely let go of my camera the

entire time we were there.

but, it turns out that

temecula, proud of its old town,

westernish charm, is not known for

its food.

luckily, it doesn't matter how behind

i get: i'll never stop loving my research.

if you can imagine me, sitting on a bed,

facing a vineyard reading

yelp on my cell phone, you'll understand

how i spent a good part of the trip,

determined to not regret the fact that

we weren't in hawaii. we didn't.

just before leaving san diego, larry and i stopped at urban solace, a restaurant that i had read about on chowhound, for bloody marys, a quinoa-flecked veggie burger and beef cheek hash.

south coast winery was a bit of a larger operation than we usually go for, but luckily they're quiet during the week and our small villa in the back made it very easy to never see anyone. this was our view.

we really tried to take advantage of our surroundings, joining a vineyard tour and tasting that turned out to be a tour for four: us, a very friendly german couple from arizona and a very, very perky guide. we ate grapes from the vine, sampled different wines with different cheeses and afterward, we stayed put, eating lunch only a few feet away.

we visited public house, the only place i could determine was worth the effort of finding, and the restaurant did not disappoint. it was, however, quite dark and the only redeemable picture was of this "appetizer" that would have served a better purpose as a meal. regardless. call it dinner, lunch, a starter or just delicious, this was one of the tastiest things i have eaten in a very long time: goat cheese toasts drizzled with a reduced balsamic and brown sugar tomatoes, all surrounded by arugula.

and we used the last day to eat a very cheap, unexpectedly good breakfast (larry's, below) and to see a few of the other wineries, finally sipping the almond champagne at one and stopping by another that had been deemed, quirky and unpretentious.

we tasted (and bought!) olive oil and smoked salt, drove past a place for honey that, in retrospect, i would have like to have visited and on the last night, we enjoyed a cheese plate and a bottle of riesling on our little deck, falling in love with the quiet, the peace and the oozy piece of honeycomb that sat just beside the humboldt fog.

and, we relaxed. just a little bit.

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.