I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
It happened again. I was watching an episode of Barefoot Contessa, oddly enough it was one I hadn’t seen before, and as usual, right away, I was compelled to make the thing that she had just made. She was preparing lunch for a friend. There was sauteed fennel and a splash of white wine and a little Pernod, diced tomatoes, shrimp, feta, and breadcrumbs. Things were sauteed on top of the stove for a few minutes, and then the dish went in the oven for just enough time for the shrimp to cook through and the breadcrumbs to brown. She brought it to the table in the pan straight from the oven. It was easy and fun. I had to do this. The recipe is on the Food Network site, and it’s also in her book Barefoot Contessa How Easy is That? In that same episode, she and her friend also made an incredible-looking salted caramel ice cream for dessert. I’m not sure why, but that recipe is nowhere to be found on the web site or in her book, or I would have made that too. [Update: Thanks to a commenter, the recipe was found. It's on the Barefoot Contessa site. Wish I would have thought to look there!] But, back to the shrimp. I made this for dinner the next night. The shrimp, fennel, and tomatoes were scooped onto plates and served with bread for dipping into the sauce exactly as Ina had served it. It was casual, great for summer, couldn't have been easier, and tasted like it should have involved much more effort than it actually did.
This goes quickly, so you'll want to have all the ingredients prepped and ready. First, diced fennel was sauteed in olive oil, and then minced garlic was added. White wine was used to deglaze the pan, and then canned, diced tomato, tomato paste, and some oregano were added followed by just a tablespoon of Pernod. It really does add nice, anise flavor with just that small amount. This mixture was left to simmer for about fifteen minutes before the shelled and deveined shrimp were set on top. Crumbled feta was strewn about the pan, and then a mix of breadcrumbs, parsley, and lemon zest was sprinkled on top. The saute pan went into a 400 degree F oven for fifteen minutes, and then it was served with lemon wedges and bread.
I don't think I've ever made a Barefoot Contessa dish I didn't like. Sure, sometimes a disconcerting amount of butter is involved, but not in this case. Here, the shrimp and fennel were fresh and light with just a little richness from the feta. With some toasted sourdough bread on the side, this meal was as easy, fun, and casual as it looked like it would be.
I think I might have started a new thing for family birthdays. It's happened twice now, so it's at least on its way to becoming a thing. Since I bake a lot, and I really can't or shouldn't eat as much as I bake, I decided to send cookies to family members on their birthdays. I'm sure that now this is in writing, I'll not have time to send cookies for the next birthday. It might just be a when-I-have-time thing, and that way the cookies will always be a surprise, right? This cookie recipe is from The Greyston Bakery Cookbook, and coconut is added to the dough. I bought a bag of natural, unsweetened, shredded coconut and then worried that the cookies wouldn't be sweet enough since I didn't use the regular, sweetened stuff. I tasted the dough before I baked the cookies to see if I thought I should add more sugar, and it seemed good to me. Kurt was happy to taste test a cookie fresh out of the oven, and his reaction made me confident they were just fine. The cookies almost disappeared before I could box them up for shipping.
There was nothing unusual about making the cookie dough here. You could use chocolate chips, but the recipe called for chunks, so I chopped a bar of bittersweet chocolate into bits. At two different cooking classes I attended, I learned the same lesson from both Nick Malgieri and Alice Medrich. When you chop chocolate into chunks for cookies, you want to leave the chocolate dust behind. Nick Malgieri places the chopped chocolate in a sieve and shakes it to remove the pulverized stuff and keep the chunks. Alice Medrich used her hands to pull the chunks away from the dust on the cutting board. The fine, powdery chocolate muddies the look of the dough and using only the chunks results in a neater cookie. So, cream butter and brown sugar, add an egg and vanilla, sift flour, baking soda, and salt and add oatmeal then add that to butter mixture, then fold in shredded coconut and natural, unsweetened is fine and neat, dust-free, chocolate chunks. Drop into mounds on baking sheets and bake.
These were easy, straightforward cookies, but the addition of coconut to an oatmeal chocolate chunk cookie was new for me. It's an excellent addition, adding a little chewiness, and one I'll continue to include from now on. Actually, now that Kurt knows about this cookie flavor and will no doubt be requesting it frequently, I'll be baking a lot of these cookies.
This dish is as easy-going as summertime itself. Zucchini, yellow squash, and slabs of tofu are briefly grilled and then tossed in a lemon marinade. They can be used right away while still warm, or as they did in my case, they can sit in the refrigerator overnight until they're layered into this lasagna-like construction. The lasagna itself can be served warm, room temperature, or chilled. You can skip the grilled tofu and use slices of fresh mozzarella instead. Or, as I did, you can serve burrata on the side. The fussiest element of this dish is probably the pesto, but that's a treat for me to make because my basil plants are growing strong despite our unstoppable heat. Then, there are the tomatoes which only have to be cut into thick slices, and they're ready to go. This dish has a completely no worries kind of attitude. You can't go wrong with it. The recipe is from the March gardening issue of Living magazine, and I held onto it until big, red, heirloom tomatoes were here and locally grown zucchini and dark, yellow squash were at the peak of their season.
The zucchini and squash were cut into long, thin slices, and the tofu was pressed to remove water and cut into thick slabs. Everything was brushed with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and grilled for a few minutes per side. After grilling, the vegetables and tofu were placed in a lemon marinade. To make the marinade, olive oil was heated with lemon zest and garlic, and then lemon juice was added. I left the vegetables and tofu covered in marinade in a container in the refrigerator overnight. Next, basil pesto was made the usual way. Toasted pine nuts and garlic were pureed in the food processor, basil leaves were added, olive oil was drizzled in while the motor was running, and it was seasoned with salt and pepper. Then, the lasagna was assembled. The tofu was cut into thinner slices before stacking with the zucchini and squash. Tomato slices and whole basil leaves were included in the layers, and the pesto was dribbled here and there while building. Once completed, the lasagna could go have gone back into the refrigerator, but I served it at room temperature. Surprisingly and pleasantly, it was easy to cut and the layers stayed in place as portions were transferred to plates.
A little smoky flavor from the grill was welcome among the summer vegetables and tofu, and the ripe tomatoes and basil pesto were a fitting sauce. For a bunch of simple, laid-back ingredients, they all came together into a substantial, flavorful, finished meal.
The other day, I mentioned the box of San Marzano tomatoes I brought home. Most of them ended up peeled, chopped, and bagged for the freezer. But, a few of them were set aside for oven roasting, and is there a sweeter, more lovely tomato flavor than what you get from slow roasting? Store-bought, sun-dried tomatoes are intensely tomato-flavored and that's perfectly nice too, but with oven roasting, you can stop the process at any point to retain a little moisture for a semi-dried effect. The result is a cross between the chewy, completely dried variety and juicy, fresh tomatoes. This dish is from Plenty which has become my go-to source for dishes with great flavor and no meat. In the book, Castelluccio lentils are suggested, and the new bulk section at our Whole Foods offers a plethora of dried bean varieties but no Castelluccios. Instead, I found black, beluga lentils which are a cute, little size and nice, dark color and worked just as well for this. Another good option would be Puy lentils.
Slow roasting tomatoes in a 250 degree F oven will take an hour and a half to two hours depending on the size of the tomatoes and the moisture content. The tomatoes were cut in half, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and sprinkled with thyme leaves and salt. Just keep checking in on them after about an hour and fifteen minutes until they've reached the semi-dried state you prefer. I roasted the tomatoes a couple of days in advance and stored them in a container in the refrigerator with the oil and vinegar scraped into the container with them. When I was ready to complete the dish, red onion was thinly sliced and left in a bowl with red wine vinegar and salt while everything else was prepped. The black beluga lentils were cooked in plain water for about fifteen to twenty minutes until just tender. They were drained and added to the red onion slices. Olive oil, minced garlic, and black pepper were added, and that was left until the lentils were cool. The original recipe calls for chervil, chives, and dill, but I used garlic chives from my garden and flat-leaf parsley. The chopped herbs were added to the cooled lentils and everything was tossed to combine. The roasted tomatoes along with chunks of Gorgonzola were added to the lentils as the dish was plated, and I served it on a bed of arugula leaves.
With the bite of Gorgonzola and the fabulousness I've already mentioned of oven-roasted tomatoes, this is no shy, vegetarian dish. Simple, earthy lentils carried both well, and the herbs added fresh flavors. My only regret here is that I didn't buy several more pounds of San Marzanos and another freezer for storing them.
Declaring something 'the best' is tricky, but I can easily proclaim something like these cinnamon buns to be 'my favorite' I've ever made. And, I've made lots of different cinnamon buns or rolls. In fact, cinnamon rolls are one reason this blog was started in the first place. I once spent most of a Saturday morning hunting through files and stacks of recipes trying to find the one for some cinnamon rolls I had made before. Several hours later, I remembered the recipe was from an old Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. This blog makes it so much easier to keep track of details like that. But, that was some other version of cinnamon rolls. The ones shown here today are now my favorites. They come from Maida Heatter's Cakes, and the secret is potatoes. I knew potato dough for breads is very tender and fluffy, but I had never considered making cinnamon buns from a potato dough. Maida explains that yeast likes potatoes, and indeed, the dough puffed very well while rising. The twelve buns filled a fifteen and a half inch by ten and a half inch pan. Fear not, there is no flavor of potatoes in the dough. The buns taste buttery, cinnamony, and sweet. The potatoes just affect the texture, and they do so in the best way possible.
First, you're going to need some plain, mashed potatoes. Anything leftover that might have been seasoned with salt and pepper or garlic isn't going to work. Maida points out that three quarters of a pound of potatoes will produce the one cup of mashed potatoes needed. The plain mashed potatoes were warmed in a saucepan, and milk was slowly stirred into them followed by sugar, a little salt, and butter. Meanwhile, yeast was added to warm water in a measuring cup, and in a separate bowl, and egg was mixed with vanilla. Then, in the bowl of a mixer, the potato and milk mixture was combined with the water and yeast and egg. Flour was slowly added, and this produced a sticky dough. The dough was turned out onto a floured board, and kneading was easier with a dough scraper. When the dough felt smooth, it was placed in a oiled bowl and left to rise for an hour or a little longer. After rising, it was rolled out on a floured board into an eighteen inch square, covered with melted or very soft butter, and sprinkled with a mix of cinnamon, sugar, and nutmeg. I opted to leave out the raisins. Next, the dough was rolled into a log and cut into buns. I let the covered tray of buns rest in the refrigerator overnight, and then brought them to room temperature while the oven pre-heated the next morning. They baked for twenty minutes, and when cool, the glaze was drizzled on top. I added a few tablespoons of cream cheese to the butter, confectioners' sugar, vanilla and almond extracts, and cream in the glaze.
Usually, the best part of a cinnamon bun is the very middle, but these were that good all the way on the outside edge. For years, my favorite cinnamon bun or roll was one made with pumpkin puree, and when October arrives, I reserve the right to change my mind again. Until then, these cinnamon buns will hold the title.
I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.
I admit that I'm a huge geek about keeping files of recipes from years and years of food publications. These are physical, paper files of pages that have been cut from magazines, and in some cases, the pages were copied if I needed to file the front of the page in one folder and the back in another. Yes, there are folders to categorize drinks, appetizers, salads, soups, sides, seafood, holiday menus, etc. I said I'm a geek about it. I get that. Now, there are two types of searches that happen in these files. One is the frantic search in which I remember a dish, and I know the recipe is filed in there somewhere, and I flip through every folder trying to find it. The other search type is the meandering, happy, just browsing search. That happens when it occurs to me that I haven't dipped into the files in a while, and I take a breezy stroll through food ideas of the past. It was that kind of search that led me to these lettuce bundles, and this gem of a fresh, light meal came from Living magazine in January 2001. Noodles in a spicy peanut sauce are cupped in butterhead lettuce leaves and topped with fresh, crunchy vegetables and chicken, and the big, pretty head of butterhead lettuce I had from my CSA was ready and waiting.
This is a versatile kind of meal. You can set out all the possible fillings and let everyone involved put together their lettuce bundles as they choose. You could use a rotisserie chicken, or grill some chicken, or skip the chicken entirely. Duck was also suggested in the original recipe. I went with soy sauce-marinated chicken that I roasted in the oven. Next, the peanut sauce should be made, and this is a pretty simple one compared to others I've tried. Into the food processor went garlic, ginger, chile paste, peanut butter, soy sauce, a little sugar, oil, lime juice, and water. It seemed like it was missing something, so I added some fish sauce and extra chile paste. For the noodles, I used vermicelli-style rice noodles which cook in boiling water in approximately one minute. Once drained and rinsed, the noodles were tossed with most of the peanut sauce. Some sauce was set aside for drizzling on top of the bundles. Then, you just have to slice and/or chop all the vegetables for toppings. I julienned cucumber, carrot, and serranos and thinly sliced green onion. I had some Thai basil leaves from my herb garden, so I used those as well.
For a meal on the light side, this packs lots of flavor thanks to the peanut sauce. And, those perfectly cupped leaves of butterhead lettuce are easy to bundle up with fillings. Everything can be served at room temperature, or if made in advance, it could also be served chilled. In fact, for a summertime lunch, the cold noodles and sauce from the refrigerator the next day were delightful in the crisp lettuce cups.
I seem to lack the ability to grow tomatoes. I blame it on our yard. The front yard only gets the hottest, harshest sun of the day, and the back yard is too shaded. I have a few cherry tomato plants, but they’re only doing ok. They're certainly not producing record numbers of cherry tomatoes. I’ve accepted that I need to leave serious tomato growing to the pros. One of our local pros is Johnson’s Backyard Garden, and they’ve had an incredible tomato harvest this year. In fact, they have a bulk tomato sale that’s still in effect, and that’s how I came to have ten pounds of San Marzano’s. I set aside a few of them for oven roasting, and the rest were plunged into boiling water, skinned, and then seeded. By the end of the ten pounds, and really ten pounds isn’t even that much, it seemed like a lot of work, but when I tasted the tomatoes it was completely worth it. My first thought of how to use some of these tomatoes was that classic sauce I’ve heard so much about from Marcella Hazan. In Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, she included what she calls “the simplest of all sauces to make.” She also mentions “none has a purer, more irresistibly sweet tomato taste.” She’s right about that. I tasted the sauce so many times as it cooked I risked not having any left to serve with pasta. This is her famous tomato sauce with onion and butter. There are exactly three ingredients plus salt and pepper, and it is a perfect sauce.
Obviously, the better the tomatoes, the better the sauce, and I was starting with those fabulous, fresh San Marzanos. As I said, I had peeled and seeded the tomatoes, and then I roughly chopped them. Two pounds were needed for one recipe of this sauce. The tomatoes went into a sauce pan with one onion that had been peeled and cut in half. Five tablespoons of butter was added, and then the sauce cooked. Occasional stirring helped break down the tomatoes, the liquid reduced, the sauce thickened, the butter melted, the onion added its flavor, and the simplest, most delicious sauce came to be. The onion was removed and seasoning was adjusted before the sauce was used. Marcella recommends this sauce for gnocchi or penne or rigatoni. I chose rigatoni which was boiled and then tossed with the sauce. On the plate, I added shards of parmigiano reggiano and ribbons of basil.
This sauce could be made with canned tomatoes, but the flavor of fresh tomatoes is so much better. The butter makes them even sweeter, and the onion rounds out the savoriness. I found it impossible to not taste the sauce each time I stopped by the pan to stir it, and once tossed with pasta, the bright, freshness of it was unbelievable. And, the very good news is that I have more of those peeled and seeded tomatoes sitting in my freezer just waiting to be turned into sauce.
In that same episode, she and her friend also made an incredible-looking salted caramel ice cream for dessert. I’m not sure why, but that recipe is nowhere to be found on the web site or in her book, or I would have made that too. [Update: Thanks to a commenter, the recipe was found. It's on the Barefoot Contessa site. Wish I would have thought to look there!] But, back to the shrimp. I made this for dinner the next night. The shrimp, fennel, and tomatoes were scooped onto plates and served with bread for dipping into the sauce exactly as Ina had served it. It was casual, great for summer, couldn't have been easier, and tasted like it should have involved much more effort than it actually did.
, and coconut is added to the dough. I bought a bag of natural, unsweetened, shredded coconut and then worried that the cookies wouldn't be sweet enough since I didn't use the regular, sweetened stuff. I tasted the dough before I baked the cookies to see if I thought I should add more sugar, and it seemed good to me. Kurt was happy to taste test a cookie fresh out of the oven, and his reaction made me confident they were just fine. The cookies almost disappeared before I could box them up for shipping. 
which has become my go-to source for dishes with great flavor and no meat. In the book, Castelluccio lentils are suggested, and the new bulk section at our Whole Foods offers a plethora of dried bean varieties but no Castelluccios. Instead, I found black, beluga lentils which are a cute, little size and nice, dark color and worked just as well for this. Another good option would be Puy lentils. 
, and the secret is potatoes. I knew potato dough for breads is very tender and fluffy, but I had never considered making cinnamon buns from a potato dough. Maida explains that yeast likes potatoes, and indeed, the dough puffed very well while rising. The twelve buns filled a fifteen and a half inch by ten and a half inch pan. Fear not, there is no flavor of potatoes in the dough. The buns taste buttery, cinnamony, and sweet. The potatoes just affect the texture, and they do so in the best way possible.
, she included what she calls “the simplest of all sauces to make.” She also mentions “none has a purer, more irresistibly sweet tomato taste.” She’s right about that. I tasted the sauce so many times as it cooked I risked not having any left to serve with pasta. This is her famous tomato sauce with onion and butter. There are exactly three ingredients plus salt and pepper, and it is a perfect sauce.
