Dried beans and crusty bread

Soup is one of my favorite cold weather meals to cook for a couple of reasons.  It is warm & hearty, relatively easy, and takes many delicious forms.  Even better, it provides a perfect excuse for buying another of my (non-seasonally dependent) favorite things: a fresh, crusty loaf of bread.

I made a simple white bean soup on Sunday afternoon.  For some odd reason, I've always been intimidated by dried beans, but I have been experimenting with them lately and haven't ruined anything yet.  I just wish they didn't take so long to cook.  This recipe could probably use some refinement (or maybe the hint of another herb - thyme? rosemary?), but it was pretty tasty as is.  Here is what I think I did.

White Bean Soup with Pancetta & Kale

1. Soak 1 lb. dried white beans (such as canellini) overnight in cold water or for at least an hour using this method: place in pot and cover by a couple of inches with water.  Bring to a rolling boil and let cook for a few minutes.  Turn off heat and cover pot with a lid.  Let sit.  In either method, drain the water before using the beans.
   
2. Saute some diced pancetta or Canadian bacon or ham in a soup pot until starting to brown.  Remove and set aside.  Deglaze the pot with a little water if there is a brown goodness building up on the bottom.
   
3. Add two onions, chopped, two-ish carrots, diced, and several cloves of garlic, minced, to the pot with a little olive oil and cook until soft.
   
4. Throw into the pot: the soaked beans, the pancetta, two bay leaves, a parmesan cheese rind, if you happen to have it, and enough water to comfortably cover it all.  You could also use stock in place of the water, though I have been trying to avoid the store-bought ones lately because they are so salty and you will be simmering for long enough to create your own flavorful broth from scratch.
   
5. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to simmer gently.  Cook until the beans are as tender as you like.
   
6. At some point, season with some salt and pepper, to taste.
   
7. When the beans are just about done, add a bunch of kale (or spinach or arugula), chopped, and cook until it is wilted, approximately five minutes.
   
8. Fish out the bay leaves and cheese rind and serve.

Dinner with some true loves

To celebrate Valentine's Day, my roommates and I sat down for a candelit dinner with some of the true loves of our lives: meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  Broccoli tagged along too, just for kicks.

An innovative new restaurant, and two bright red tomatoes

I saw this article in the Washington Post on Friday and it made me instantly hungry.  Tucked in with a Lowest Price gas station near U Street is, apparently, a delicious restaurant.  Fast Gourmet was founded by brothers Juan and Manuel Olivera.  They picked the gas station site because they didn't have the money to rent a more conventional space.  It's an entertaining, feel-good article and, as the someone interviewed for the story points out, is something you would expect more from a place like Brooklyn than D.C.  Hopefully an indication of more great things to come from the D.C. food scene.  I rarely visit the U Street area, but this might just be a good reason to plan a journey.

Another note on food - I walked to the farmers' market for the first time in at least a month today and was pleasantly surprised by the bustle of activity.  In addition to the year-round staples and the holdover apples from last fall, there were herbs, lettuces, and strawberries everywhere.  I bought some garlic scapes - spindly green stalks that grow out of the top of garlic bulbs - with which I plan to make some pesto.  I'm seemingly incapable of visiting the farmers' market without buying goat cheese and a baguette, but today I augmented those old stand-bys with a tub of sugar snap peas, a pint of fresh chocolate milk, and two tomatoes - the reddest, most enticing I've seen since, well, last summer.  Phenomenal.

Sprucing up a spring sandwich

Save maybe for a few slices of a perfectly ripe avocado, I've decided recently that delicious bread may have more power to improve a sandwich than any other standalone ingredient.  I don't know why this comes as such a revelation to me, seeing as how I have always been a sucker for a crusty, freshly baked baguette.

This train of thought started about a month ago, while preparing Kevin's birthday dinner.  We were serving a trio of sliders: crab cakes, marinated grilled chicken, and stuffed lamb burgers.  While shopping, I started thinking about different ways to create small buns, since regular hamburger buns were too large.  Loaves of pita bread seemed like an obvious choice for the lamb burgers, but I couldn't find small ones, so we just ended up eating everything on sliced dinner rolls, which worked out ok.

More recently, I grilled up some chicken, marinated in buffalo sauce, with the intention of eating it like a burger.  Instead, I found myself craving one of the Trader Joe's handmade tortillas sitting in the fridge.  We had several leftover from a fajita dinner and I had been devouring them plain, warmed up nicely in a hot skillet.  So I ended up shredding the grilled chicken, dousing it with more buffalo sauce, and wrapping it up in a tortilla with lettuce, tomato, red onion, and a drizzle of blue cheese dressing.  As an added bonus, the one piece of chicken made enough for two wraps, so I got to eat a second while lying to myself that it was an equivalent amount of food.

And just this weekend, Joe, Kevin, and I got a craving for deli subs.  Instead of one of the pre-packaged, sort of soft sub rolls, we bought a baguette from Safeway and cut it into thirds.  It made a perfect sandwich roll.  The next day, I repeated the process with some of the leftover turkey, along with tomatoes, goat cheese, and arugula from the farmers' market.

We may have cut down, recently, on the practice of devouring loaves of bread, dunked in olive oil, before dinner every night, but it seems I have craftily identified another way to ingest my regular quota of delicious carbohydrates.

Dim sum for lunch and dinner

Well, you know there's something wrong when you've eaten all three of the day's meals at your desk at work.  On the bright side, two of those meals were made up of my mom's homemade char siu baos (baked this time, as opposed to steamed).  Delicious, particularly when punctuated with homemade cookies, which she also sent in today as a Valentine's Day gift.  Something else to learn how to cook, at some point...

Weekends are for food lovers

Eating a good meal is, to me, one of life's principal enjoyments.  Beyond the obvious fact that food provides an often irresistible treat for the tastebuds, there are few better ways to socialize and catch up with friends than over a meal.  I was fortunate enough to spend my weekend doing all of these things.

On Friday, I visited Alex, Adam, and Joe in Frederick, where we ate a satisfying, hearty barbecue meal (sans cornbread, unfortunately).  Later, we experimented with a Chesapeake oyster shooter (a mistake we will not soon repeat) and devoured a soft pretzel.  Saturday involved excellent Mediterranean roasted eggplant pizza and a classier than expected dinner at Ming's in Chinatown with Jimmy.

Finally, yesterday afternoon I indulged my occasional urge to spend a few hours of a lazy Sunday cooking.  It's nice to have the time to produce a dish more involved than what is possible on a weeknight.  Similar to (though less ambitious than) the ethnic food feasts that Alex and I tackled last year, I wanted to try something I had not attempted before.  Spanakopita, with its tricky, temperamental phyllo dough but jaw-droppingly delicious payoff, seemed to fit the bill.

So I tackled it, fusing a couple of recipes from online and a cookbook and taking breaks to watch the Terps women's soccer team lose in the ACC Championship game on TV.  Though the entire process (including breaks and baking time) took a few hours, there were no major disasters and the end result was pretty tasty.

Spanakopita

1. Thaw 8 oz (about 16 sheets) phyllo dough, if frozen, in the refrigerator overnight or on the counter for two or three hours.
2. Thaw approximately 20 oz. frozen chopped spinach in the microwave.  Thoroughly squeeze the spinach dry to remove as much moisture as possible, pressing between plates or against the hard surface of a collander if needed.
3. Saute two onions, chopped and several garlic cloves, minced, in olive oil until soft.
4. Add spinach, as well as 2 tbsp. flour and dried or chopped fresh dill, salt, and pepper to taste.  Cook for 5-10 minutes, making sure any liquid has evaporated or been absorbed and remove from heat, allowing the mixture to cool a bit.
5. Mix in 1 lb. feta cheese, crumbled and 4 eggs, lightly beaten.
6. Melt 1 stick butter.
7. Unroll phyllo dough and cover with plastic wrap and a damp towel to keep it from drying out.
8. Grease a 9"x13" baking dish.  Lay in one sheet of phyllo and brush lightly with the melted butter.  Lay another sheet on top and repeat approximately 8 times, depending on the total number of sheets of phyllo you have.
9. Spread the spinach mixture evenly on top of the phyllo in the baking dish.
10. Place another sheet of phyllo on top of the spinach mixture and brush with melted butter.  Again, repeat approximately eight times.  Brush the top layer with the remaining butter.
11. Bake 350 (preheated) for about an hour and ten minutes, or until deeply golden brown and crispy looking.

 

The finished creation.  The stuff off to the side is grilled eggplant.

Much tastier than it looks

Wednesday's combination of crisp weather and my ongoing struggle to get rid of a nasty cold seemed perfectly tailored for soup - always one of my favorite foods to bump back into my diet every fall.  So I set about cooking a non-creamy mushroom soup that I first attempted last spring, with a few modifications.  Very delicious, although dreary and very brown in color without the spinach (which I did not have this time).  As with many things, I'm finding that proportions for soup recipes are pretty fluid - you can generally use what you have on hand or what sounds appealing at the time with great results.

Wild Mushroom Soup

1. Slice 1 onion or several leeks.  Saute in a soup pot until soft with some olive oil or butter.
2. Chop and throw in about 1 lb. fresh mushrooms, any combination.  I used about half baby portabella, diced, and half shittake, sliced.  Saute until soft.
3. Pour in 1/2 c. cooking sherry or marsala wine.  Boil and allow to reduce by about half.
4. Add about 8 c. chicken stock and bring to a boil.  Lower heat and simmer.
5. Reconstitute 1 oz. dried wild mushrooms in the simmering soup.  I used oyster mushrooms.  If you don't have them, you can just use an additional 1/2 lb. of fresh mushrooms in step 2.
6. Simmer for at least 15 minutes, making sure the dried mushrooms are soft.
7. Pour in approximately 1 c. orzo or other small pasta.  Simmer until tender.
8. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
9. Stir in chopped parsley and a handful of fresh spinach leaves before serving, if you have them.

Italy, Spain, and Georgia

I was heartened to read this story about olive oil in the Washington Post this afternoon.  Detailed and highly topical, it reminds me of some of the more light-hearted fare on NPR, and is certainly a nice break from politics, the economy and war.

The article profiles a cooperative of farmers trying to rekindle the olive growing industry in Georgia.  Parts of the South are apparently, climate-wise, very well suited for growing olives.  Georgia, in fact, had a somewhat robust harvest in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, until being destroyed by hurricanes and eclipsed by the emergence of more prominent crops, such as cotton.

But now, farmers are beginning to see the benefits of domestically produced olive oil.  Statistics identify the US as the 3rd largest consumer of olive oil in the world - much of it the lucrative, delicious extra virgin variety - yet 99% of it is imported at great cost.  There is amazing potential for a high quality, American-grown and -pressed product.  It would most likely cost less, be better for the environment, and support more job growth than the imported variety.  If these Georgian farmers can accomplish all that and manage to create a comparably tasty oil that goes well on a baguette, sprinkled with parmesan cheese and freshly grated black pepper, I'll happily buy American over Italian or Spanish any day.

Stuffed with goodness

Driven by a desire to grill as frequently as possible while the weather is nice, I've been experimenting with some new things.  Grilled eggplant, for one, brushed lightly with olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper, has become a new favorite.  Another keeper are these stuffed lamb burgers, which I've made a few times now.  With a distinct Middle Eastern flavor, they go really well with that grilled eggplant and couscous salad on the side.

Stuffed Lamb Burgers

1. Combine in a bowl: about 1 1/4 lbs. ground lamb, 1 onion, finely diced, several cloves of garlic, minced, chopped cilantro, and generous amounts of cumin, salt, and black pepper.
2. Knead with hands until well mixed.
3. In a separate bowl, mix goat cheese with fresh mint and black pepper.
4. Form a patty in your hand.
5. Carve out an indentation in the patty, spooning in a dollop of the goat cheese mixture and then reforming the meat around it.  The cheese should be completely enclosed.
6. Grill patties until cooked through.
7. Serve using pita bread as buns, garnished with lettuce, tomato, and tzatziki sauce.

Next time with mashed potatoes

As I made dinner last week, I tried to brainstorm things to do with leftover mashed potatoes.  It seemed like I had a lot of extra, especially with meatloaf and broccoli also on the menu.  Shepherd's pie includes mashed potatoes, I think, but my cookbook didn't have a recipe for that.  The only thing in the index under "Pies, savory" that involved this ingredient was chicken pot pie with a mashed potato crust.

Salivating at the thought of crusty, oven-browned potatoes, I decided to tackle a homemade pot pie the next night.  Unfortunately, there were fewer leftover potatoes than I had thought there would be, so we went the route of a traditional crust.  Still, it came out pretty well and was actually not very difficult.

Steve and I merged recipes from two different cookbooks and added a few of our own touches.  Here's my best approximation of what we did.  And, next time, we are going to try it with the potatoes.

1. Cook 3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts in boiling water.  Remove, let cool, shred into pieces, and set aside.
2. Simmer 4 c. chicken broth (or cooking liquid + bouillon) until reduced by about half for about 2 cups.
3. Meanwhile, sautee diced vegetables in oil: 1 large onion, 3-4 carrots, 3-4 celery stalks, 4 cloves garlic.  Season with salt and pepper.
4. Once vegetables begin to soften, add 1/3 c. flour and reduce heat, stirring frequently to avoid burning.  Cook for a few minutes until mixture turns tan.
5. Add broth and 2/3 cup milk (or half and half), heating until just barely boiling.  Stir constantly.  Mixture will thicken.
6. Remove from heat and adjust seasoning.  Stir in chicken pieces and frozen peas and/or thawed frozen green beans.
7. In ungreased oblong baking dish, layer store-bought (like Pillsbury) pie crust on the bottom (optional - can just use one crust on top).  Brush lightly with beaten egg.
8. Add filling and top with a second pie crust, brushing top with beaten egg.  (If using mashed potatoes, top the filling with a layer and omit the egg.  Use the same baking time).
9. Bake, uncovered, at 425 for about 35 - 40 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbly.

No substitute for naan

Judging by the number of cookbooks I got for Christmas last year (three), I think it's safe to say that people think I like cooking. Whenever someone says this, I generally try to deflect attention by saying something along the lines of, "Well, I really love eating, and I don't live at home anymore, so I kind of have to fix my own food." Which is true, but I think I also enjoy the process more than I tend to let on. Weeknights are tough, because we rarely have fresh ingredients on hand and it's hard to make a delicious meal and eat at a decent hour when you don't get home until 6:30 (or later).

But given the luxury of an otherwise lazy weekend afternoon, I get a lot of pleasure out of taking the effort to fix something more involved than, say, pasta. Tackling a challenging meal helps make improve my overall cooking skills and also creates the opportunity for cooking with friends. It's really, really enjoyable to crack open a beer, chop some onions, and chat with a good friend. As I get older, and further removed from the college lifestyle, I'm convinced that it's important to make a more concerted effort to stay in touch with the people you care about. Happy hours and nights out remain a big part of this, but group cooking can play a part too.

Alex, Joe, and I got together last night and hung out in the kitchen for awhile. The payoff of about four hours of cooking: a delicious, multi-course Indian feast. Some lessons learned: start earlier in the afternoon so we're not eating at 10 pm again and whole wheat pitas are certainly not comparable to naan. On deck: Middle Eastern or Mexican? Either will be excellent. Feel free to join.

Twist on a personal favorite

Growing up, some of my favorite dinners were when my mom would make a roast. Though this was partially because I liked the steak, it was also largely due to the side dishes. In addition to salad, we would often get to enjoy double starches - baked potatoes and mushroom rice. I love mushroom rice. Last night, when Dave decided to grill up some steak, I began to fixate on it. Unfortunately, we had no mushrooms and I was not craving it quite enough to justify a trip to Safeway. So, I improvised and created a Toasted Pine Nut Rice dish.

1. Using a toaster oven or maybe the broiler, toast some pine nuts until they just begin to turn golden brown.
2. Melt about 1 T butter in a deep skillet with a lid and saute a few cloves of minced garlic and salt.
3. Meanwhile, heat 4 c. chicken stock (or water with bouillon, or just water with extra salt) in the microwave til hot, about 5-6 mins.
4. Add 2 c. uncooked rice to the pan and warm a couple minutes until it begins to lightly crackle.
5. Pour the warm stock into the skillet. Stir, let it come to a boil, then reduce heat to low and cover the skillet, letting it simmer for about 15 mins.
6. Uncover and stir, adding in the toasted pine nuts and finely chopped green onions.
7. Place a paper towel across the top of the skillet (not touching the rice) and replace the cover. Simmer for about 10 mins.
8. Stir and serve hot.

In case you can't tell, I was pretty impressed with the way this dish turned out. The pine nuts added delicious flavor and the green onions gave it some inviting flecks of color. To make the mushroom version instead, all you need to do is omit the pine nuts, green onions, and garlic (though I don't see how garlic could hurt), and add in slivered mushrooms with the butter in step 2. I haven't been cooking dinner as much this year as I did last year (due in large part to living with roommates who enjoy cooking), but I'm in the mood to challenge myself and try some new things. On the horizon, perhaps: an Indian food feast?

Crab dip, with a side of activism

Tonight I attended a young professionals potluck gathering. Delicious dishes included enchiladas, deviled eggs, and salad with chunks of a mild cheese (fresh mozzarella?) and bread cubes mixed in. I brought crab dip, and will post the recipe below. It was great to get a chance to chat with some of the other young people at church (a topic to which I will devote a much more extensive posting later), and the idea of potluck dinners appeals to me a lot in general. The young professionals group meets monthly, and there is typically a guest speaker, often a member of the church, who has something interesting to share. After dinner, everyone gathers in a circle of comfy armchairs and listens.

This week's guest was a woman named Beth, who works now at the Brookings Institution, but has spent much of her career living abroad, doing humanitarian work with a number of organizations, including the UN. A large part of her focus has been on refugee women. Beth spoke at length about her experiences, using several specific stories to help us understand her line of work.

In one, she told of a woman whom she met in Geneva, who had escaped Somalia by walking through the desert, carrying her 2 year old son. Arriving at Djibouti, she was raped repeatedly by the border guards before being allowed to enter. When she met Beth, she was going back to Somalia to try to find the infant she had been forced to leave behind because she "could only carry one." A second story centered on the deep satisfaction Beth received from buying a displaced schoolteacher a new pair of glasses, leading her to spin in circles in the street, crying "I can see!" in Portuguese. Still another focused on aid workers, resolutely continuing to provide help despite terrifying threats by local warlords.

One of the things that struck me most about Beth was the tone of the conclusions that she's drawn from these experiences. She told us that people frequently ask her how she copes with such a depressing line of work. Indeed, wherever there are humanitarians in the world, there is likely some sort of heartbreakingly incomprehensible disaster present as well. But Beth asserts that it's a wonderful job, that seeing firsthand the good she's been able to do is exceptionally gratifying. There's something impersonal about donating money to charity. You know you're doing a good thing, but you never get to see the tangible result. Not the case with humanitarian work.

Following her stories, Beth answered questions. The discussion roamed from Iraq (she's sad that sectarian violence has driven out nearly all of the country's intellectuals, but encouraged by Obama's rhetoric on increasing civilian aid) to how she got involved with this line of work (she was a college professor who visited Switzerland with some surplus grant money) to what her office looked like in Geneva (it had a view of sparkling snow-capped mountains and a little coffee pot in the corner). I really enjoyed listening to her chat - it felt very grown up, yet almost collegial at the same time. I'm looking forward to more experiences like this with this young professionals group.

And now, the crab dip:

1. Mix well, in a microwave-safe bowl: one 8 oz block cream cheese, 1/2 c. mayonnaise, 8 oz. crab meat (imitation flake crab works fine and is much cheaper), chopped scallions, chopped parsley, slivered almonds, 2 tbsp white wine (or cooking wine), 1 tbsp horseradish, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce.
2. Cover and microwave 4-6 mins, or until hot.
3. Stir again.
4. Serve with slices of a baguette or crackers or both.

Work, good food, and music

I’ve been pretty busy at work lately, which, since I still have no computer at home, has kept me from doing as much blogging as I would like.

At work, I’ve been putting together a couple of federal government proposals. We don’t typically go after government projects, because they’re slow-moving and full of bureaucratic red tape. But once they’ve been set in motion, they’re much more stable than the projects for private, not-for-profit clients that we usually take on. And with the economy continuing to tank, stability is a good thing. I’m not very experienced (or very skilled) at using these standard forms yet, but I’m learning.

I’ve been trying to schedule dinners/happy hours with friends lately. This is a great way to casually catch up, but I’m finding it’s tough to work around everyone’s schedule. It’s also a little disheartening that no one else seems to care enough to make an effort to plan anything, even among close friends.

My roommate Dave’s band had a concert last week at a bar on U St. Very cool. The venue was pretty intimate, and it was really loud. They went on much later than they originally thought, but sounded great regardless. I think it’s kind of cool that all of my roommates are so musically talented. Makes me kind of jealous, though, that I can’t sing and haven’t played an instrument since elementary school. Anyway, you should check out Dave’s band, Your Majesty, here.

I’d like to try to devote more of my “fun” money to eating out at nice(ish) restaurants. Joe and I have tried out a couple tasty restaurants lately – a small Thai place in Woodley Park and Mama Ayeesha’s, a Lebanese place in Adams Morgan (both before drinking heavily at a bar, eating jumbo slice pizza, and paying for a cab ride home). Sitting down for a good meal is fun, and even though it’s a little expensive, when I look at some of the other things I spend money on, I think I can try to fit it into my budget (and maybe cut down on things like drinking, pizza, and cabs).

After watching the Terps dominate a must-win game against Virginia Tech, my roommates and I made jambalaya this past Saturday, Valentine’s Day. Then we enjoyed some organic beverages and ate some cookies with pink sprinkles and called it a night.

Tastes great with rice

This is a recipe for curry chicken, a dish my mom makes frequently and that goes really well over a lot of white rice. It was originally my grandfather's recipe, and probably his adoptive parents' before that. "Farmer's food." The portions are kind of flexible.

1. Brown a large family package of chicken thighs (I prefer boneless/skinless) in a pot with peanut oil and salt. Remove from pot and set aside, draining most of the grease.
2. Chop 1 onion, 1 green pepper, 2 stalks celery, and garlic and cook until just soft in the chicken grease remaining in the pot.
3. Add ~2 tbsp curry powder and a generous swish of soy sauce. Stir and cook briefly.
4. Mix in 4 large potatoes, peeled and chopped, the cooked chicken pieces, 2 c. water, and 2 cubes chicken bouillon.
5. Bring to a boil, then cover, reduce heat, and simmer for about 20 mins, until potatoes are tender.
6. On the side, make a paste by mixing a couple tablespoons corn starch and a few spoonfuls of the broth. It should be the consistency of half and half.
7. Pour corn starch mixture into the pot to thicken the sauce. Stir well and allow dish to return to a boil.
8. Serve hot, with rice.

Missing something

Throughout the course of any given week, I consume an abundance of unhealthy calories by indulging in things like french fries, Chipotle, and beer, so I try to cut out junk in other places, where I can stand it: reduced fat cream cheese, not eating much candy, drinking water. My latest effort has been unsalted pretzels.

Pretzels are a perfect snack, save one thing. I noted with alarm recently that eating just five regular pretzels saddles you with more than 20% of your recommended daily sodium intake. I can probably eat five pretzels in 60 seconds. So I bought some unsalted ones - 3% sodium. They're absolutely disgusting, at first. It's just like eating stale bread. But after awhile, they've grown on me a bit. I still crave the salt, but I can manage. Besides, when I start to snack, it's mostly because I'm ravenously hungry or because I simply enjoy the act of eating. In either case, even a less delicious pretzel will work. And I can still ingest 20% of my daily sodium if I choose. But I get to eat 33.3333 pretzels in the process.

Something delicious

The chicken soup that I made for dinner last night (and am enjoying for lunch right now) is pretty tasty. It has an exotic, Caribbean kick to it. Here's the recipe:

1. Cook a couple chicken breasts on the side in boiling water. Once cooked, chop and set aside.
2. Meanwhile, chop the following vegetables into bite-sized pieces: 1 onion, 1 red bell pepper, 2 celery stalks, 2 carrots, 5 garlic cloves, ground or fresh ginger.
3. Sauté these vegetables in a soup pot with some canola oil for about 5 minutes.
4. Add ~8 cups chicken broth, 1 cup flaked coconut, 1 can corn, chopped up chicken. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 30 mins.
5. Mix in 1 can coconut milk, Tabasco, coriander, allspice, chopped cilantro, juice of 2 limes, lime zest, salt, and pepper. Simmer for a few more minutes.