Fat, Salt and Sugar

A month or two ago former commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration, David Kessler, was making the rounds of radio shows talking about his new book, "The End of Overeating." His theory, backed by scientific research, is that foods high in fat, salt and sugar turn on a little switch in our brain that says "Eat! Eat more! Keep eating!" This neurological response is what keeps our hand going back into that bag of Cheetos long after we've had our fill.

Of course none of us want to admit that we are weak enough to be trapped in this way. What ever happened to self control? But after a recent visit to Chicago I am here to tell you that David Kessler is right. The magic combination of fat, salt and sugar is truly, unquestionably evil. And also very delicious.

The long line at Garrett's Popcorn Shop is proof of what suckers we all are. What they serve at Garrett's doesn't even taste like popcorn. It doesn't taste like real food at all. Real food doesn't leave a neon yellow stain on you fingers that is difficult to wash off, even with soap. To experience the ultimate fat, salt and sugar triumvirate that David Kessler warns us about, you have to order the Chicago Mix, a blend of caramel and cheese popcorn. I know, I was skeptical too. I was even slightly grossed out by what I was eating the whole time I was eating it, but I couldn't stop. Garrett's Chicago Mix is the ultimate junk food. If you don't believe me, (or if you don't believe David Kessler) next time you're in Chicago get yourself a bag of Chicago Mix and see for yourself how one bite abolishes all self control.

The combination of the sweet caramel corn and salty cheese corn was so tasty I considered re-creating it at home. I imagined making a slightly healthier, more gourmet version of what Garrett's has going on. And then I came to my senses. Trying to make gourmet Chicago Mix is like trying to make gourmet Cheetos. Eating junk food every once in awhile is one of the great things about being human. And, one of the great things about visiting Chicago.

Pea Soup - Not Just for Winter Anymore

When you have a small kitchen, choosing which tools and gadgets deserve a drawer or cupboard or spot on the counter involves ruthless triage. A toaster, coffee maker, food processor and KitchenAid mixer are the only large items that make the cut in my kitchen. The crockpot (I miss it) and microwave (don't miss it at all) had to be banished to the garage. I gave the breadmaker away and the ice-cream maker is in my bedroom closet (which doesn't inspire much hope that I'll suddenly start churning ice-cream every week. Anyone want an ice-cream maker?)

Smaller items I give a little more leeway to. Certain kitchen tools stay in one of my three kitchen drawers not because I use the tools all the time, but because they do one specific job really well. Like a tiny sieve I use to make Summer Pea Soup with Cardamom. Whenever I make this soup I am reminded how much I love this little sieve, even though I honestly don't remember how or when it even ended up in my kitchen. From where does this love spring? From the silky smooth texture of the soup, that's where.

This soup involves three steps: simmer the peas, puree the peas, push the peas through a sieve. This third step traps the chunky insides and skin of the peas and releases their essence, a liquid form of pure flavor. Do not try this soup without a sieve - both a colander and cheese cloth will result in a soup texture that is unappealingly babyfood-like. But when the soup is made right, it's hard to believe such a simple process can yield such a lovely soup.

Summer Pea Soup with Cardamom
3 cups fresh peas or a 16 oz bag of frozen peas
3/4 cup chicken or vegetable broth
1/8 tsp cardamom or more to taste (but don't overdo it - the cardamom should be very subtle)
Optional garnish: fresh parsley and a swirl of creme fraiche

Simmer the peas in the broth for five minutes or until just soft. Puree in a blender or food processor. Pour a little bit of the puree into the sieve at a time. Hold the sieve over a medium-sized bowl, or the pot you simmered the peas in. Push a spoon against the peas, mashing them so their liquid drips into the bowl. Discard the chunky remains of the peas (or eat them later with salt). Re-warm the pea soup, adding more broth if you want the texture to be thinner. Add the cardamom and a pinch of salt. Garnish with parsley and/or creme fraiche.

Recipe by J.Meier

Dried vs Canned Beans

I have always felt a little bit guilty when I buy beans in a can. Granted, there are much bigger things in life to feel guilty about. But along with a degree from a culinary school comes a lifetime of guilt whenever you take shortcuts in the kitchen. Cake mixes? No way! Store-bought pie crusts? Never! (except for every time I make a pie...) Pasta sauce in a jar? Why, when I can spend six hours making my own? The same goes for canned beans. Real cooks use dried beans. Real cooks know that the hours of soaking and cooking dried beans result in a flavor that is far, far superior to canned beans. At least this is what always goes through my head when I buy cans of black beans and pinto beans and garbanzo beans each week.

But not this week. I reached for the can of garbanzos on the grocery store shelf, then paused. And right there in the bean aisle I made a decision to change my life. I was going to start buying dried beans.

But change is never easy. I began, of course, by using a shortcut; instead of soaking the dried garbanzos overnight the package said I could boil them for 2 minutes and soak for only 1 hour. After an hour of soaking I transferred the beans into a vessel (a crock pot) where they could slowly and comfortably cook into the amazing beans they were supposed to be. And while I went about my day, those little beans cooked and cooked and cooked. As they filled the house with an amazing aroma I kept thinking, cooking beans in a crock-pot is so easy! Why did I ever buy those pathetic canned beans anyway?

But seven, yes, seven hours later those canned beans weren't seeming so pathetic. I'm not sure if I was disappointed or pleased to find out that dried garbanzo beans, carefully cooked for seven long hours, tasted exactly like the garbanzo beans I'd been buying in cans all these years.

Eventually I'll give dried black beans and pinto beans a fair chance to prove their superiority and I'll let you know how it goes. But garbanzos? I'm back to buying them in a can, without the tiniest bit of guilt.

Curried Garbanzo Beans

1/2 onion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced or put through a garlic press
1 can garbanzo beans, with liquid
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup broth (or water)
2 carrots, sliced thinly (optional)
1 cinnamon stick, broken in half
1 1/2 tsp red curry powder


Saute onion in olive oil until soft. Add garlic. Just as garlic starts to brown add the rest of ingredients. Simmer on low until broth reduces and mixture is somewhat thick, about 25 minutes. Salt to taste. Serve over rice.

Dressing Up

My favorite salad dressing for a long portion of my life - ranging from the age when memories first start up until the end of highschool- was Ranch dressing made from the dry mix. It was the official Meier household salad dressing, sworn in by Mom, who said it tasted better than bottled Ranch (she was right.) This was long before olive oil and balsamic vinegar and flax oil made it into our kitchen and long before any of us knew to feel incredibly guilty about eating ingredients like Maltodextrin, Monosodium Glutamate,Modified Food Starch, Casein and Hydroxypropyl MethylCellulose (mixed with mayo and buttermilk, of course).

It pleases me, though, that whenever I go home there is still an orange Tupperware container in the fridge filled with Ranch dressing. With all due respect to the farmer's market shopping-healthy eating-locavore dining-Michael Pollan disciples out there, (I can say this, because I am actually one of them) sometimes modified food starch and maltodextrin mixed with mayonnaise still tastes really good. Standing in the kitchen late at night reading a magazine and eating summer lettuce and a grilled chicken drumstick doused in Ranch dressing is much more fun than doing the same thing while eating micro-greens and sprouts doused in lemon juice. This is an irrefutable fact.

But as they say, you can't go back. Ranch dressing made from a dry mix is no longer the official household dressing at my parent's house; it is an indulgence for meals when the body is so overloaded with healthy omegas from flax oil that it can't take any more. In my own kitchen, I long depended on balsamic vinegar to dress salads then turned to fresh lemon when I moved to a city where lemons grew on trees outside the door. But lately, I have grown salad weary. I simply can't eat another bowl of such plainly dressed greens. I need a salad with a little more style. I want something that tastes good but doesn't make me feel guilty. This search will continue all summer I presume, but for now I have been satiated by a Mango-Avocado dressing that's incredibly easy to make. This recipe makes a few cups of the dressing and after a few days in the fridge it gets a little thick, so eat it sooner rather than later.

Mango-Avocado Dressing

In a blender mix:
1 peeled mango
1/2 of an avocado
1 tsp dijon mustard
1/2 of a jalapeno pepper, minced
1 Tbsp cilantro (or parsley)
1 Tbsp lime juice
1/4 cup rice wine vinegar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
Salt and Pepper to taste

Eat Yur Bitter Greens

Bitter gets a bad rap. The dictionary doesn't do the word any favors (having a harsh, disagreeably acrid taste; grievous; distressful; piercing; stinging...you get the picture).Neither does life (usually used to describe exes we never want to see again.) But bitter happens to be a flavor I often enjoy (talk amongst yourselves about what this says about my personality) and I wish for the word that its definition was a little kinder.

Because it isn't, though, wine sellers stoop to using words like "pleasing astringency" instead of bitter, as writer Evan Spingarn explains in his piece about Wine for Adult Tastes. The world "sweet" is often tagged on to "bitter" when describing chocolate to make it more palatable. And when it comes to bitter greens they're often simmered for hours and drenched in fat to smooth out the very thing that makes them great: bitterness.

It is because of this long tradition of cooking bitter greens beyond recognition that greens such as mustard, collard and kale are often thought of as winter food. But when cooked with a lighter hand - a quick saute, a drizzle of olive oil, a paper-thin slice of prosciutto - greens are as summery as any salad out there.

Mustard greens are for the hardcore. Kale is for a more-sensitive palate. Collards are somewhere in between. I'm willing to bet you've passed over kale every time you're in the produce section. This week, don't. Grab one bunch (it wilts down to serve 3 people), chop it roughly and give it a rinse and dry in the salad spinner. Heat some olive oil (add mushrooms, onions or garlic if you like. Add a little prosciutto or bacon if the dish looks a little too green for your liking) and throw the kale in. Saute until the moment the greens wilt and the bright green color fades to a darker hue.

In the summer months, I like serving sauteed greens with fish (salmon is especially good) and white beans warmed right out of the can with fresh herbs sprinkled on top.

Beauty over Practicality in the Kitchen

I'm really into glass jars these days. I was forced into it, as I'm living with an interior decorator right now who loves everything beautiful and banishes all ugliness (which includes despicable things like plastic tupperware containers and toilet paper holders. She said if she could, she wouldn't even have toilets in her house). I don't have anything against toilets, but I can see her point about the Tupperware. Practical, yes. Aesthetically pleasing, not so much. I had to send The Husband to work last week with a glass jar of oatmeal and strawberries for breakfast. Not the easiest container to carry to work, perhaps, but there was something really nice and old fashioned about it. I've always been a fan of Crate & Barrel's glass storage bowls but now I'm hooked on regular canning jars as well. Try bringing a salad to a BBQ this weekend in a tall glass jar (like the thai chicken salad below that I'm totally in love with right now).


Or at the very least, use a glass jar to make and shake-up your dressing.
Dressing:
1 jalepeno pepper, seeded and diced
3 Tbsp fresh lime juice
2 Tbsp Asian fish sauce
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 tsp sugar or honey
1/4 tsp salt

Salad:
1 lb. chicken breast
1/2 head napa cabbage (or regular cabbage) sliced into thin strips
3 carrots, peeled and cut into rounds (or grated)
1 cucumber, diced
1 red pepper, diced
1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro
1/2 cup roughly chopped fresh mint

Whisk dressing ingredients together or put in a glass jar and shake. Saute chicken breasts in a pan with olive oil, salt and pepper, or grill it outside. Let chicken cool and then cut into small, bite-sized pieces. Toss vegetables and herbs together in a large bowl. Add chicken and dressing. Toss well.

This chicken salad is also really good as a sandwich, on a baguette with a little mayo

Fiddlehead Ferns

I've always been a little bit afraid of Fiddlehead Ferns. Being an urban forager who roams through cute gourmet shops is quite a different thing than being a forager forager who actually goes into the woods and picks things. But I've been wanting to cook fiddleheads for years - so when I was hiking near Seattle on Whidbey Island and saw them growing wild, then soon after saw them in a grocery store in Connecticut, I knew it was a sign. Suddenly, Fiddlehead Ferns were showing up everywhere in my life. I had to eat them.

Sold for an affordable $6.99/lb, I bought a half pound plus some angel hair pasta and prosciutto. I still felt a little bit of unease - I'm mean, look at these things in my sink! - but I got passed it when I realized how easy they are to cook. Simply give the ferns a quick swim in boiling water (3 minutes or so) and then saute them into whatever dish you like. The flavor is a lot like asparagus and the texture is similar as well but crunchier.

The recipe below serves 2. The prosciutto can be subbed out for mushrooms. This pasta would be delish with a Sauvignon Blanc or Albarino wine.

Fiddlehead Ferns with Pasta and Prosciutto
1/2 lb. Fiddlehead Ferns
1/3 box of angel hair pasta
6 pieces of prosciutto, sliced thin and torn into shreds by hand
2 Tbsp olive oil
Grated Parmigiano or Pecorino cheese for garnish
Salt and Pepper to taste

Boil enough water to cook the pasta. Add Fiddlehead ferns first, boiling for 3 minutes. Remove the ferns from the boiling water and then put in the pasta to cook. Heat 1 Tbsp olive oil in a pan. Add ferns and a pinch of salt and pepper. Saute ferns 4-5 minutes, then add prosciutto and another Tbsp olive oil. Turn off the heat, add the cooked noodles and cover the pan. Let sit 1-2 minutes, then serve pasta garnished with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Pecorino.
Recipe by Jennifer Meier

Old Mother Hubbard . . .

. . . went the cupboard to get her poor dog a bone. When she got there, the cupboard was bare and so the poor dog had none.

I've been reaching deep into the bowels of my cupboard this week, opening cans and boiling noodles and grains that have been in there for who knows how long. Yes, it is good to keep a well-stocked pantry, but it is also good to flush out the pantry now then. Spring is the perfect time to do this sort of cleaning and so is the week before you leave on extended time away from your apartment, which happens to be my motivation. I vowed to buy as few new groceries this week as possible and to shop only from my own cupboards and refrigerator. I've had some admittedly bad meals (the night of sardines and quinoa was rough) and some good ones, like this easy salad of cabbage, carrots and garbanzo beans in sesame-soy dressing.

This recipe can be adapted for whatever vegetables you have in your fridge. The egg can be left out if you like; I just happened to have one lonely egg sitting in my fridge that needed to be used. The garbanzos can also be subbed out for other forms of protein: chicken, salmon or tofu would be good.

Vegetable Salad with Sesame-Soy Dressing
1/4 of a cabbage, finely chopped or grated
2 carrots, peeled and sliced
1 can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1 egg, either scrambled or hard boiled.
1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro
1/4 cup sesame seeds
2 Tbsp soy sauce
1 Tbsp sesame oil
1 scallion, finely chopped
1 tsp brown sugar
dash of red pepper flakes


Combine the cabbage, carrots, garbanzos and cooked egg in a large bowl. In a pan over medium heat, toast the sesame seeds for 3-5 minutes until very lightly browned. Sprinkle the sesame seeds and cilantro over the vegetables. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, sesame oil, scallion, brown sugar and red pepper flakes. Pour the dressing over the salad, toss well.

Dr. Bragg

So who is this Dr. Bragg, exactly, and why would I want his liquid aminos?
As if the seventies-looking yellow label isn’t already slightly suspicious with its claim of “serving health to America since 1912,” the label also has three words that I dread seeing together: delicious healthy gourmet. Not that gourmet food can’t be delicious and healthy, but when these words are put together on a label it usually means, “not only is this expensive, but it tastes like cardboard!” But I decided to give the mysterious Dr. Bragg a chance anyway, mostly because I’ve been seeing more and more people going through check out lines with his products. Specifically, the Liquid Aminos. Amino Acids are the building blocks of proteins that help our bodies with growth and maintenance. A balanced diet is the best way to maintain the proper balance of amino acids. Or, it turns out, you can just buy a spray bottle from Braggs.

Not quite sure what to do with this “all purpose seasoning from Soy Protein” I read the label, which recommends it on everything from vegetables to popcorn to jerky (I ended up just spritzing it on some white rice). While the flavor isn’t that bad, (it tastes kind of like soy sauce) products like this make me wonder, “what’s the point?” Do I want to use a liquid seasoning some guy in California with sketchy advertising and ingredients cooked up? Or do I want to use a liquid seasoning that has been used by Asian cultures for two thousand years?

I don’t know about you, but I’m sticking with my soy sauce.

Granola

Over the years I've made many valiant attempts at making food at home that can easily be found in a restaurant or store. And over the years, I've had to admit defeat more than a few times. Marshmallows, for one. Why would anyone try to make homemade Marshmallows when you can buy a bag of perfectly fluffy, uniformly shaped Marshmallows for a few bucks? This is a good question and one I asked myself after the third time I found myself scraping thin, sticky, spongy homemade "Marshmallows" out of a pan. I have also vowed to The Husband and myself that I will never again attempt to make Thai food. Why go to five stores for fifteen different ingredients that I always manage to turn into an inedible mix of sweet/spicy/fishy flavors when I can simply pick up the phone and have Pad See-Iw delivered in twenty minutes?

But there are some things that never taste as good when they are store-bought and are incredibly easy to make at home. Pita chips, for one. Ricotta,surprisingly, is another. And last week, I added Granola to this list. I love Granola and I have never found a version in any store that I have fallen in love with. And believe me, I've tried them all, spending as much as $10.00 for a mediocre experience. It's usually too sweet or too dry. It usually has too many oats and not enough nuts. The flavor is often bland or artificial tasting. I am so much happier with my own homemade version that I will never buy Granola again. This recipe is easy to make, relatively healthy and can be adjusted to your personal tastes. Like more dried fruit? Add more! Love pecans and hate almonds? No problem! Trying to cut back on sugar? Just add less! The only ingredient I wouldn't tinker with is the oil - if you must cut back, just be warned that your Granola might lean towards something a horse would enjoy eating more than you.

3 cups old fashioned oats
3 cups nuts (I usually use a combination of two or three nuts. My favorites are pistachios, pine nuts, slivered almonds, pecans and pumpkin seeds)
1/2 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut (optional)
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 Tbsp honey (you can also use maple syrup)
1 cup dried fruit (sometimes I use less, especially in the summer when I add fresh berries to a bowl of Granola)

Preheat oven to 300. Mix first 3 ingredients in a large bowl. Whisk together all other ingredients (EXCEPT dried fruit). Pour liquid over oats and nuts, mixing really well to completely coat. Pour Granola onto a rimmed cookie sheet (preferably lined with parchment paper.) Bake 1 hour, stirring several times. Take out of the oven and add dried fruit. Let cool. Store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

The Fungus Among Us

It was with much disappointment that I realized I’d missed one of those great geek-meets-food events I've come to depend on Seattle for. No, it was not a Cheese Festival this time around; this time it was a (insert drum roll). . .
Wild Mushroom Show!
Each Fall, the Puget Sound Mycological Society hunts down more than 200 varieties of mushrooms within 150 miles of Seattle and puts them on display. The show features a “Feel and Smell” area, a black-light room for UV-sensitive mushrooms, microscopes to view the reproductive cells of spores, and an identification table where you can bring in specimens to see if they’ll make a great meal, or kill you. (Speaking of which, there are also chef demonstrations throughout the day).
I penciled next year’s mushroom show on my calendar, and then trotted down to my grocery store to create a mini-mushroom show of my own. I came back with three fresh mushrooms I’d never cooked with before: the Lobster ($39.99/lb), the Wood Ear ($4.99/lb) and the Porcini ($29.99/lb). You can, of course, also buy dried mushrooms that spring back to life with a soak in a hot liquid, but they aren’t inexpensive and always look like dried leaves to me. (I've worked in many gourmet stores where the dried mushrooms arrive in giant plastic bags, and it makes you wonder what warehouse they’ve been sitting in gathering dust for the last few years.)
As I cooked my fresh specimens, they each revealed distinctly different characteristics. In a hot pan with olive oil, the Wood Ear made a fantastic crackling and high-pitched hissing noise that sounded just like a campfire. Unfortunately, it tasted like biting into wood, too. Commonly used in Asian Cuisine, this is a ‘shroom that performs much better in a soup, to give it flavor and texture.
The Lobster Mushroom is a beauty, and technically, more of a wannabe than a “real” mushroom. The reddish color is actually a seperate fungus that grows on top of unsuspecting mushrooms and basically swallows them whole, known unofficially as “Mycological Cannabalism”. The two fungi become one, and the resulting flavor is mild and slightly nutty with a heavy, meaty texture. I assumed the name "Lobster Mushroom" came from its reddish color, but when The Husband came home while I was sautéing it, the first thing he said was, “It smells like fish in here!” So, there you go.
My favorite by far was the Porcini. It has a definite woodsy aroma and taste. A little sea salt heightens its delicious, earthy flavor. I can imagine it as the star of a pasta dish, or next to red meat or asparagus.
With all this talk of fancy mushrooms, however, let’s not forget the real work horse and everybody’s friend, The Button. Button mushrooms are a regular in my kitchen, and play a starring role next to(gasp!)canned mushrooms in one of my favorite old-school recipes from my Mom’s recipe box. Trust me on this one. The ingredients will make you skeptical, but I have yet to meet anyone who didn’t love this stuffing served next to salmon. As with most recipes handed down from Mom, the amounts are approximate, which is half the fun of cooking.
Mary’s Mushroom Stuffing with Salmon
1 cup or so of chicken broth
¼ cup minced celery
¼ cup minced onion
1 3oz can mushrooms
A few handfuls sliced button mushrooms
1-2 Tablespoons minced parsley
2-3 Tablespoons minced dill
A few shakes of poultry seasoning (found in most grocery stores)
2 cups coarsely crushed Saltine Crackers
Drain canned mushrooms. Keep the juice and mix with chicken broth. In a bowl, pour over crushed crackers. Sauté celery and onion in butter until golden. Add canned and fresh mushrooms and cook until browned. Add herbs, poultry seasoning, and crackers with broth. Place stuffing around salmon. Bake at 350 until salmon is done. Garnish with sliced lemon and fresh dill.

Defining Chocolate

There was a time not so long ago when there was always a bag of chocolate chips in my cupboard. At night I’d dole out however many I needed (because chocolate is a need, not a want). I would then line the chocolate chips up in a perfect row and eat them one by one. The Husband became accustomed to finding rows of chocolate chips around the apartment, which he generously said was endearing instead of pointing out that it was the obvious sign of an addict. I have since moved on to a chocolate bar phase, always dark chocolate, usually without nuts, although sometimes accompanied by a spoonful of peanut butter. So you will understand why, when I came across a website called “Don’t Mess With Our Chocolate” that I could immediately relate. The website is run by Guittard, and is one of many bringing attention to a potential change in the Food and Drug Administration’s “standard of identity” for chocolate. The change, backed by various food industry groups, would allow manufacturers to replace up to 100% of the cocoa butter in chocolate with inexpensive vegetable oil and use milk whey instead of whole milk, and still call their product chocolate. Currently, in products with the word “chocolate” on the label, the addition of vegetable fats other than cocoa butter can’t exceed 5% of the finished product. Insisting that manufacturers use real cocoa butter instead of inferior ingredients protects the flavor and texture of real chocolate. It also protects you from having to read the fine print on a chocolate bar to make sure you’re getting the real thing, not some watered down version of chocolate filled with ingredients you don’t want to be eating. For manufacturers backing the change in chocolate standards, it’s all about money. It’s cheaper for them not to use real cocoa butter. It’s not just “gourmet” chocolate makers that are against the proposal; even Mars, which makes M&M’s, Snickers, Three Musketeers and Twix, just announced last month that they are opposed to diluting the definition of chocolate. The battles been waging all year and it’s still unclear when the FDA will make a decision, but it’s never too late to let your voice be heard.

Back to School

Yesterday when I was driving to and from work, the radio discussion during both commutes was about school lunches. Kids need to eat healthier, they need more fruits and veggies, they need more real food. I agree with all of this, and I’m a huge fan of a pioneering program in Berkeley, The Edible Schoolyard, that introduces kids to growing and cooking fresh food. So why, then, when I started thinking about school lunches could I not get Tater Tots off my mind?
The Tater Tot, in all its greasy splendor, is a food that brings me instantly back to Badger Mountain Elementary.The aroma of the greasy little potato morsels even hovers around my memories of high school and could probably be bottled and sold as “Eau de School Cafeteria” . The Tater Tot never disappoints. It is always as starchy, greasy and salty as you remember it being. Last night I bought a bag in the freezer section (100 tots for only $1.99!), baked ‘em in the oven and dipped the little taters in a healthy portion of ketchup. I probably won’t crave them again for another year, but man, did they hit the spot. For the record, the salty snack pairs much better with an ice-cold vodka martini than it does with a half-pint of school milk.
You may know this food by another name such as Potato Puffs or Spud Puppies. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest it was always Tater Tot, as coined by a “local” Oregon/Idaho company called Ore-Ida (now owned by Heinz) that trademarked the name in the fifties. Tater Tots may have even been invented in the Pacific Northwest when the workers at Ore-Ida were trying to find a way to use the scraps left over from their French Fry production. Sure, we exported Microsoft and Starbucks and Amazon.com and Pearl Jam, but Tater Tots? Now that’s something the locals can really be proud of.
On a school related side note, if you’d like to mark the beginning of the school year in a way that is much classier and substantive than Tater Tots, I highly recommend A Class Apart, a fascinating book written by a good friend who also happens to be an award-winning journalist. Twenty some years after graduating from Stuyvesant high school in Manhattan, Alec Klein went back. His non-fiction account of the students who currently attend the ultra-competitive school is inspiring, humbling and thought-provoking. I highly suggest it as a fall read and expect the book will attract a great deal of attention - you heard about it here first!

Micro-Greens and Sprouts

During the summer, time moves at warp speed (can anyone believe today is August 1st?) This feeling of life passing by too quickly is ironic, since the heat of summer seems like it has the power to slow everything down to a leisurely crawl. One thing I do know about time: no one likes to waste it slaving away in a kitchen on a beautiful summer evening. Salads are the best route to a quick, easy meal in the summer and I've been eating plenty of them, but a girl cannot live on lettuce alone. To keep things interesting I’ve been digging deeper into the produce aisle and experimenting with Micro-Greens. Micro-greens are nothing new: think back a few dozen years and who among us did not have, or covet, a Chia Pet? Although Chia is actually packed with nutrients, its not a Micro-Green you're likely to see often in the produce aisle. You will see, however, Micro-Greens of cabbage, arugula, mizuna, radish, and numerous other vegetables and greens. When a plant is growing, the micro stage is the first point at which tiny leaves become visible. If the plant is harvested at this very young age, it is called a Micro-Green. Micro-greens are visually interesting in salads, adding different variations of color and texture, and often have more flavor than regular old lettuce. You can use Micro-Greens in the place of lettuce, or try adding them to other types of cold summer salads. I mixed chilled orzo pasta with feta, cucumbers and mint, then put a ring of Micro-greens around the outside of the bowl. The dish looked beautiful, and the Micro-greens added a little bit of texture and additional flavor to the pasta salad. Feeling that I had mastered Micro-Greens, the next week I delved into sprouts. Unlike Micro-Greens, which are grown in soil, sprouts are grown in water. For a long time the alfalfa sprout was the only one with name recognition, but now sprouts are readily available in all sorts of shapes and flavors. In the produce section or at the farmer's market look for broccoli sprouts, clover sprouts, sunflower sprouts, you name it, and its got a sprout. I tried Pea Sprouts, which have a similar flavor as alfalfa but have more of a "crunch" - kind of like alfalfa sprouts with a backbone. I roughly chopped the Pea Sprouts and added kalamata olives, baby tomatoes, avocado, and lemon and olive oil. When The Husband took his first bite of what I still claim is a delcious salad he said, not unkindly, "These Pea Sprouts taste like dirt." Now, I would have chosen the word "earthy," but what can I say. Sometimes one person's delicious culinary discovery in the produce aisle is just another person's dirt salad.

Squid Ink is Fabulous

Usually when I fly I avoid the in-flight magazine until I’ve gone through all the other reading material I have, there’s no movie playing, and I’m bored stiff. Sadly, this happened yesterday before the plane even took off. Trapped in a stifling hot airplane for two hours on the runway of JFK, I pulled the Delta magazine out of the seat pocket and after using it as a fan for a few minutes, finally read a few pages. The article I read was taken from a guidebook by Splendora, a website that is the self-proclaimed “authority on Fabulous.” Making the list of fabulous things this summer were kite surfing in Tarifa, Spain, swimming in the rooftop pool at Hotel Gansevoort in NYC, and accessorizing with Cartier watches and belts and buckles reminiscent of the 60’s and 70’s! (that exclamation point is Splendora’s, not mine). I realized that if this was the criteria to be fabulous I didn’t have a chance, so I read on and then, finally, there it was, my chance to be fabulous.
What to eat this summer: Black linguine with lemon zest
Four years ago, black linguine with seared scallops was what I cooked the first night I met my future in-laws. The dish was a hit, which helped draw attention away from the near disaster that also occurred in the kitchen that night when I left a glass pan setting on the stovetop and it blew up and shattered into a million pieces, scattering glass and scallop juice all over the kitchen. But I digress…
Black linguine gets its color from squid ink that is added to the pasta dough when it is made. Although squid ink could be added to any shape of pasta, you’ll see it most often in the shape of linguine, spaghetti, or fettucine. Squid ink pasta is more about color than flavor. It basically tastes the same as regular pasta, but the black color, dulled only slightly after cooking, is striking, especially as a backdrop for bright red tomatoes, green herbs, yellow lemon zest or pale pink shrimp. Squid ink pasta also makes you think about the color of the bowl you’re serving it in; I like it best in a plain, white bowl so that the black color really stands out.
I don’t see black pasta regularly in stores, but its out there and you should keep your eyes open for it, because unless you plan to kite surf in Spain this summer, eating it might be your only chance at being fabulous, too.

Watermelon

There is, perhaps, no food more perfect for summer than Watermelon. Picnicking yesterday, I ate some refreshing yellow Watermelon, which I see occasionally in stores and more often at farmer's markets during the summer. There are about 200 varieties of Watermelon, and a portion of those have yellow flesh, which to me has a flavor that is slightly more delicate and less sweet than red melon. Most varieties of yellow melon have fantastic names, like Yellow Crimson, Desert King, Willhites Tendergold, Yellow Fleshed Black Diamond, Tastigold, and Orange Sunshine.
The nitty gritty of picking out a melon: A good Watermelon is evenly shaped and heavy. A yellowish or white color on one side of the melon is where the fruit contacted the ground and does not affect quality. Slap the melon lightly with an open palm and listen for a deep-pitched tone. Avoid melons with a high-pitched tone or a dead, thudding sound. Don’t, however, be one of those annoying people who pick up every melon, hold it up to their ear, and knock on it, as if they are an expert in the subtle tonal variations of watermelon.
Random Watermelon Factoids: In Japan, farmers found a way to grow melon in glass boxes, forcing the melon into a square shape and making it easier to stack and ship. My sister once ate so much Watermelon on her lunch break that she made herself sick and had to leave work. Watermelon is the official state vegetable of Oklahoma, which perhaps happened after Vernon Conrad of Bixby, Oklahoma grew a Watermelon that weighed 255 pounds. Some proclaim him the Watermelon King, a fact disputed by Lloyd Bright of Arkansas who grew one that weighed 268.8 pounds.
Eating it:
The best place to keep an uncut melon is on your countertop (they usually keep for up to two weeks). Put it in a fridge to chill at least four hours before eating. My Dad sprinkles salt on Watermelon to heighten its flavor, my Grandma pickles it, and I’ve been known to soak it in a little vodka and sprinkle it with mint. Last summer, feta and Watermelon salads were all the rage with chefs, although it doesn’t sound particularly good to me. Watermelon isn’t really something I want to eat fancied-up in a restaurant; I want to eat it outdoors sitting at picnic table, where I can spit the seeds wherever I please.

Torta Aceite

I first tasted a Torta Aceite from Spain about five years ago and instantly loved it. Thin and flakey, Torta’s have the savory flavor of olive oil with the light sweetness of sugar and a subtle anise flavor. It is the perfect cross between a cookie and a cracker; it pairs well with soft goat cheese and a glass of sherry, and equally well with your morning cup of coffee. I have to be honest though, it took me quite awhile to find someone who loves Torta Aceite as much as I do. It seems to be one of those love/hate foods. People are either immediately taken with the light, flakey texture and the rich taste of olive oil with a sprinkling of sugar, or their face crinkles up in an expression that says quite clearly “Olive oil and sugar do not go together! And I hate anise!” Now, I don’t like anise either and I usually stay as far away from its licorice-like flavor as possible, but in a Torta Aceite it’s so subtle it’s more like a whiff of anise hovering over the Torta.
For a few years I would only see the Torta in a handful of stores, like Olivier & Co. (who offers them at the best price, $5.00) but now they seem to be everywhere. They do not, however, seem to be flying of the shelves of gourmet stores, mainly, I think, because people have no idea what they are. Next time you’re in your local gourmet store or Whole Foods or Olivier & Co., buy some and give them a try. When you open a package they are best eaten within a few days, as I’ve noticed the Torta’s losing their crispness when exposed to air. In my house, The Husband is one of those who’s face crinkles up at the sight of Torta Aceite, so eating the entire package is left up to me. It is a task I thoroughly enjoy.

Getting Pickled

Wedged between the cookbooks in my kitchen are pages I’ve ripped out of various magazines, a paper trail of culinary aspirations that I'll probably never get around to: cooking up a batch of mozzarella cheese, brewing ginger ale, making marshmallows from scratch, stocking my cupboard with jars of homemade raspberry jam and tomato sauce. Having these recipes lying around for years could be depressing, but I actually find them comforting. Every so often I flip through the articles and recipes, never losing hope that one day I'll fill my pantry with whatever it is I’ve finally canned or pickled. But in the meantime, I’m thankful for rick’s picks. Rick is a man who began making pickles as a hobby in his Brooklyn kitchen, somehow found and attended an international pickle competition, and walked away with six ribbons and a “Best of Show” Award. Understandably, victory at the pickle competition inspired Rick to think big, and now his pickled concoctions are showing up in stores across the country. Rick’s picks are available all over New York, at the Cheese Store of Silverlake in Los Angeles, A Southern Season in Chapel Hill and numerous others states.
Fresh, natural ingredients, unusual flavor combinations, and quirky product names set rick’s picks apart. Smokra is pickled okra with smoked paprika, Spears of Influence are cucumber spears in a cumin-scented brine, Bee n’ Beez are “turbocharged” bread and butter pickles and Phat Beets are beets pickled in a rosemary-scented brine. There are ten flavor combinations so far, and counting. I commend Rick for not only making time in his life to take up pickling as a hobby, but for going one step further and turning it into a full-fledged business. Supporting Rick's dream is simple: At your next BBQ think about how delicious some Mean Beans (green beans pickled in a cayenne-dill brine) would be next to a scoop of potato salad and how great those turbocharged pickles would be on a burger.
And by the way, if I do ever dig out that old recipe I have for brewing ginger ale, you all will be the first to know.

Lāloo goat ice cream

I’ve been wanting to buy Lāloo goat ice cream for about a year, but every time I reach for the half-pint the sticker shock dissuades me. Seven dollars is a lot to pay for ice cream, even if it comes from goats frolicking in Sonoma, CA in fields of “green grass and thistle berry in the warm Pacific breeze.” I haven’t decided if it’s cute or annoying that these goats have a better life than most of us, but there is something comforting about knowing the food you eat comes from a happy, healthy place. Also, the word on the street from cheesemakers I’ve spoken to is that raising goats is a little like having an entire herd of newborn babies, so if someone’s going to go through the trouble of raising goats, milking them, & then churning ice cream, they probably deserve every penny of that seven dollars.
As I get a little older and spoon-feeding myself Ben & Jerry’s is less of a pleasure and more of an instant stomachache, I’ve been keeping my eye open for ice cream that is a little more friendly to the digestive system. Lāloo Goat milk ice cream is exactly that. Goat’s milk is slightly lower in lactose than cow’s milk, which makes it easier to digest for the lactose intolerant crowd. Some people who think they are lactose intolerant are actually allergic to cow’s milk. The protein people are allergic to is not found in goat’s milk (or human milk). Goat’s milk is also naturally lower in fat and naturally homogenized, meaning the fat globules are small and remain suspended in the milk rather than separating out, again making it easier to digest. In cow’s milk, the fat globules are large enough that they will separate from the liquid. You may have noticed this before when you buy cream and have to shake it before pouring it so a lump of cream doesn’t drop into your coffee.

The flavor of Lāloo ice cream has none of the tanginess you might expect from goat's milk and tastes pretty much the same as cow’s milk. The main difference is the texture. The lower fat in goat’s milk is evident in the somewhat icy, rather than creamy, mouth-feel. I tried the Deep Chocolate flavor, but for me, chocolate is rarely at its best in a low-fat setting and it tasted a little cocoa-powder like. I recommend trying a flavor that will shine with less fat, such as Black Mission Fig, Strawberry Darling, or Lemon Chiffon. The line is sold at many natural food stores and larger gourmet grocery stores, and you can even get a coupon for $1.00 off if you visit the Lāloo website.