Tuesday, January 28, 2020

creamy braised white beans.

Back in October of last year, I signed up for the Rancho Gordo Bean club.  If you’re not familiar with Rancho Gordo, they are an heirloom dried bean company based in California that works with farmers to grow long-forgotten or previously hard to find varieties of beans (along with more common bean types).  Their beans are a real game changer – super beautiful, incredibly flavorful, and very fresh -  the beans cook up far faster than anything you can buy in a supermarket.  I honestly think signing up for this bean club is the best thing I’ve done in a while. 

As you can imagine, we are now eating a lot of beans which is both good for us and good for the environment.  Since joining, I’ve been cooking a pound of beans every weekend and then pushing myself to come up with new recipes/ways to eat them (though if we are being honest, my preferred meal is a simple bowl of beans in served with a little bean broth, olive oil, and a piece of really good bread).  It’s been fun.  It’s also nice coming home and having one meal component done and then just figuring out how to toss it all together.

I’ve been cooking a LOT of different recipes (and experimenting with homemade bean burgers) but so far, the best thing I’ve made, and the dish I keep coming back to is this Creamy Braised White beans.   This is pure comfort food and the kind of thing I feel like I could eat daily if you let me.  It’s easily adaptable – I’ve thrown spinach or arugula into it.  I’ve been known to top it with comte instead of parmesan.  I’ve made it with a couple of different vartities of white beans and all of them are great.   The original recipe calls for canned  but it is so much better with the real deal beans.   

I just wrote 325 words on beans and I think I could still write 500 more.  

Creamy Braised White Beans
Recipe Adapted from the NYTimes

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 head garlic, halved crosswise
1 cup whole milk
30 ounces white beans (any kind or a combination of 2 kinds) + ¾ - 1 cup bean broth (though you may decide you want additional broth)
1 thyme sprig, 2 sage leaves or 1 bay leaf
⅛ teaspoon ground nutmeg, allspice or garam masala
Kosher salt and black pepper
4 slices crusty bread or thick toast
Extra-virgin olive oil, for serving
Freshly grated Parmesan, comte, or another favorite cheese, for serving
Aleppo pepper or red-pepper flakes, for serving

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the garlic, cut side down, and cook until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes.

Add the milk, beans and their liquid, thyme and nutmeg and stir to combine. Season generously with salt and pepper. When the mixture begins to bubble around the edges of the pan (you don’t want it to come to a full boil), reduce the heat to low and let it simmer, stirring occasionally, until it has thickened and tastes great to you, about 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Use a fork to remove the garlic halves from the beans. Set aside until cool enough to handle, then use the fork to remove the cloves from the skins. Spread the cloves on bread or toast.

If you would like the beans to be more stew-like, mash some of the beans using a potato masher or the back of a spoon. Serve beans and milk in bowls. Garnish as you wish, with a drizzle of oil, a sprinkle of Parmesan and a pinch of Aleppo pepper and black pepper. Serve with the bread alongside for dipping.

Friday, December 20, 2019

thumbprints with dulce de leche.



I wouldn’t feel right if it didn’t post a new cookie recipe during the month of December.

With that being said, I haven’t been baking that much.  I’ve found most of the cookie recipes that came out this year felt gimmicky and were created solely for the purpose of likes on Instagram.  (I’m talking lots of bright colors and an excessive amount of sprinkles.)   In my mind, most holiday cookies should come in shades of beige – shortbread, snowballs, linzer cookies.  That is where my allegiance lies.  I’ve been combing through the backlogs of some of my favorite blogs.  Unearthing recipes that are in line with what I really want to eat – rugelach, brown butter shortbread, ginger cookies. 

This isn’t to say all the 2019 cookies recipes were a disappointment.   The one that spoke to me successfully straddled the line between tradition (thumbprints) and new (dulce de leche) – it was a perfect marriage of old and new and the resulting cookie received such rave reviews from the guinea pigs in my office that I think it’s going to become a permanent fixture in holiday cookie box. 

Thumbprints With Dulce de Leche
Recipe from the NYTimes

The NYTimes shares a bunch of variations so these are truly a “choose-your-own adventure” cookie.  Below, this includes the variation I made.  

3 ounces/85 grams whole pecans (3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons)
2 ¼ cups/290 grams all-purpose flour, plus 2 teaspoons
1 cup/225 grams unsalted butter (2 sticks), softened
⅔ cup/135 grams granulated sugar
2 large egg yolks, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon kosher salt
⅓ cup dulce de leche

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Spread the pecans out on a small baking sheet and cook in oven, shaking several times, until toasted, 10 to 12 minutes.

Once cooled, transfer the nuts to a food processor, preferably a mini one. Add 2 teaspoons flour and pulse just until nuts are finely ground, being careful not to overprocess.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together butter and granulated sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes, scraping bowl as needed. Add egg yolks and vanilla, and beat on medium-high speed until well combined, about 2 minutes, scraping the bowl a few times as needed.

Add 1/2 cup ground nuts, the salt and the remaining 2 1/4 cups flour; beat on low speed just until combined, then increase speed and beat until dough starts to clump together. Scrape the bowl and fold a few times to make sure everything is well mixed. Wrap dough in plastic wrap, flatten into a disk, and chill until firm, at least 1 hour and up to 3 days.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Pinch off small pieces of dough the size of a rounded tablespoon (about 20 grams each) and roll the top half of each one in the remaining ground nuts. Place a few inches apart on parchment- or silicone mat-lined baking sheets. Chill in the freezer until firm, about 10 minutes.

Bake for 8 minutes, remove from oven and make a thumbprint in each cookie. Bake until golden brown on the bottom, and nuts are looking toasty but not burned, 6 to 8 minutes longer. Let cool a few minutes on the baking sheets and transfer to wire racks to cool further. While the cookies are still a little warm, fill each one with about 1/2 teaspoon of filling, and cool completely. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt. Cookies will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 week.

Friday, November 22, 2019

carrot flan.


I've been thinking lately that while I'm cooking a lot I'm, I'm cooking what is referred to as to as "mommy blogger food".  The food is good!  Very good!  Healthy!  Filling!  Satisfying!  But is it exciting?  Is it remarkable?  Is it even worth writing about?  Unsure.   I think it’s good that people post those types of recipes – the things you can make in 30 minutes or less on a Tuesday evening.  It’s the kind of food I want to eat and make most nights of the week but I’m not sure it’s the kind of food I want to write about.   

The kind of recipes that make me run to this site to jot down my thoughts are the kind of recipes that teach me something.  That have interesting techniques.  They turn a humble ingredient into something that delights.  They make me say holy shit this is good.   

I’ve had this recipe bookmarked since I bought this cookbook earlier this year.  I think I book-marked it because I wasn’t sure what a carrot flan would be like.  Would it be delicious?  Odd?  Would I know it was eating carrots?  I made it around Halloween because it felt seasonally appropriate (and very on-color theme) but now that I’ve made it, I think it would be fantastic addition to a Thanksgiving dessert table.  

The consensus is that carrot flan is delicious.  Earthy but rich and comforting.  You would never guess it’s filled with carrots though I’m less sure what most people would think it tastes like.  Squash?  Something else?  Regardless, I think it belongs on a Thanksgiving table.  You can make it a couple of days ahead!  Requires no reheating on the day of!  It’s 5 ingredients (all of which I imagine you already have on hand)!  It provides a very simple end to a very traditionally over –the-top meal.     Also leftovers make a fantastic morning-after-Thanksgiving breakfast.  Especially when paired with good coffee and a good book.   

Carrot Flan
Recipe from My Mexico City Kitchen: Recipes and Convictions by Gabriela Camara

If you don’t have a flameproof baking pan, it is OK. You probably won’t be able to invert the flan after it is chilled, but you would still be able to cut it in perfect wedges.

1 pound 2 ounces carrots
¾ cup whole milk
1 cup granulated sugar
⅔ cup unsalted butter, melted
6 eggs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Thoroughly scrub the carrots but don’t bother peeling them. Cut the carrots into 4 pieces so that they fit comfortably in a medium pot.
Place carrots in pot. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Cook carrots for about 15 minutes, until just soft. Pour them into a colander and let cool completely. Press out any excess water.

Bring a full kettle of water to a boil.

In a blender, combine carrots, milk, sugar, butter and eggs, and mix at high speed, until smooth. Grease a 10½-inch flameproof baking pan with butter. Pour mixture into pan. Place in a roasting pan. Fill roasting pan with boiling water to reach at least halfway up outside of baking pan.

Bake flan for 1 hour, 30 minutes. Place flan on a cooling rack to cool. When flan has cooled to room temperature, refrigerate overnight.

When ready to serve, place flan on stove over low heat and warm slightly to loosen the sides. Place a serving plate over pan and invert pan and plate together so that flan falls onto the plate.

Slice flan and serve with sweetened whipped cream.


Wednesday, September 4, 2019

big beans and tomato vinaigrette.



Two weeks ago I returned from vacation in Portugal.  I want to write about it.  And I will!  At some point!  Mostly because people keep asking me for my itinerary (I think this is a testament to what an epic planner I am)  but I haven’t gone through all my photos and I’m still waiting on film to come back and I figure when I can finally digest everything, I’ll write about it.

Until then,  let’s talk about produce.  Specifically tomatoes. 

Most days I’m dreaming about tomato sandwiches.  Weekends are for making tomato confit in an effort to freeze a little bit of summer.  I’m spending a lot of money on heirloom tomatoes in every shape, size, and color.  There are worse vices you could have.   

I’ve made this dish twice since seeing it in the August issue of Bon Appetit.  I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love it - it can actually be a meal!  Especially if you round it out with some good bread and a couple of nice cheeses.  If you’re fortunate enough to live near a farmers market where you can get fresh beans, use them here. 

Big Beans and Tomato Vinaigrette
Recipe via Bon Appetit

For the Beans

Handful of oregano sprigs
Handful of thyme sprigs
2 bay leaves
8 oz. dried butter beans, rinsed, soaked overnight if possible
1 medium onion, halved
1 large carrot, scrubbed, coarsely chopped
Kosher salt
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

For the Vinaigrette and Assembly

10 oz. cherry tomatoes or 1½ cups chopped heirloom or beefsteak tomatoes
1 garlic clove, smashed
3 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
⅓ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Kosher salt
2 lb. assorted heirloom, beefsteak, and/or cherry tomatoes
Freshly ground black pepper
Handful of basil leaves
Mild red pepper flakes (such as Aleppo-style or Maras)

Make the Beans - Tie together oregano, thyme, and bay leaves with kitchen twine. Combine beans, onion, carrot, and herbs in a medium pot. Pour in water to cover beans by about 4" and bring to a very gentle simmer over medium-high heat. Immediately reduce heat and cook at the barest of simmers, stirring hardly at all, until beans are creamy and tender at the center but not falling apart or mushy, about 1½ hours (this could take longer, depending on the beans). The key is to not agitate, which will help the beans maintain their shape. Remove pot from heat; season beans aggressively with salt. Gently stir in oil. Let cool. Drain beans; discard onion, carrot, and herbs.

Do Ahead: Beans can be made 2 days ahead. Keep in liquid; cover and chill.

Vinaigrette and Assembly - Purée cherry tomatoes in a blender. Transfer to a small bowl and stir in garlic, vinegar, and ⅓ cup oil; season with salt. Let sit 15–20 minutes, then pluck out garlic.

Transfer drained beans to a medium bowl and add vinaigrette; toss gently to coat. Taste and add more salt if needed.

Slice, halve, or quarter heirloom tomatoes and arrange on a platter or divide among individual plates. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with oil. Spoon beans along with plenty of vinaigrette over; top with basil and a few pinches of red pepper flakes.

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

arcade bakery - a love letter (and the story of a relationship).


This week I realized that my relationship with Tyler has been defined by croissants. 

A month into us dating and a couple of weeks after we arrived back to the states from studying abroad in Europe,  Tyler showed up at my dorm room with a French breakfast in bed. Croissants he had gotten after walking a mile to his car and then driving to Wilmington to find the best version available to us in Delaware. There was butter and jam.  I think coffee too.   To this day it remains one my favorite memories (and probably the single most romantic thing he’s ever done - we peaked early!). 

When we moved in together, Saturday mornings were reserved for breakfast together.  For over a decade it's been the same breakfast.  Scrambled eggs with cheese and lots of black pepper.  Toast with butter and jam.  Coffee with milk and sugar. In the summer there may be berries or sliced peaches.  In the winter there could be grapefruit or oranges.  After we finish our eggs, we share a  chocolate almond croissant.

I use the term share loosely because he eats the edges and saves me the center.  The piece with more chocolate and more almond.  Love is giving the person the better piece because you know it means more to them. 

Some people may find the consistency and routine of this odd.  I find it comfortable.  I like having something to always look forward to.  It's a standing date.  It's something I can rely on in a world where everything always feels like it's moving.  

Since the first croissant there have been countless others.  There was the croissant we shared the first weekend we spent in our new apartment after the hurricane.  There was the one we ate after we got engaged on a snowy morning in December while we watched Pitch Perfect.  There were croissants eaten in AirBnB's in Seattle, Washington and in cars while driving home from Maine.     

But, for almost 5 years, our relationship has been defined by a very specific chocolate almond croissant from Arcade Bakery. 

Arcade Bakery is perfect. It's a bakery that feels like a hidden secret but not in a pretentious way.  Instead it comes across as a gem you just stumbled across in the middle of NYC.  It's in the lobby of an office building and you would never know it was there unless you were looking for it or actually stopped to smell the scent of fresh baked bread and asked yourself where its coming from.   You can find me there once a week.  Buying baguettes and loaves of bread and cinnamon sugar brioche and chocolate almond croissants for our Saturday morning breakfast dates.    

The first time we ever shared an Arcade Bakery croissant was on the morning of our wedding.  I couldn't imagine breaking our routine on our wedding day.  Marriage is about the things you love.  The person you love.  I love Saturday morning breakfasts with Tyler.  I wanted to start our marriage that way.

Since then, they've been a constant.  You can almost always find one or two of them in our freezer.  I have the tendency to buy them in multiples just in case I can't get there one week.   Is this something an insane person does?  Probably.  (I've never said I wasn't crazy.)   We reheat them in the oven, wrapped in tinfoil, for about 10 minutes.  They emerge as if they have been freshly baked.   They are prefect.  

On Friday August 2nd, Arcade Bakery closes.  The owner, Rodger, has rheumatoid arthritis and it's too painful for him to bake bread.  I keep thinking about how cruel life can be.   I keep thinking about his this feels like the end of an era. 

I'm currently on what I am referring to as a reunion tour with them.  Finding every opportunity to go there before it closes.  I feel such a visceral reaction to this bakery in the lobby of an office building.  It's been such a part of my life.  It was constant.  It was happiness.   In a lot of ways it's defined my marriage.  Should food define a marriage?  Why not.  Food is a way to connect people. 

Can love exist between the flaky layers of a chocolate almond croissant?  I think it can.  For me it has.   I'm currently stockpiling our freezer so we have what I am now referring to as "the croissant" for at least a couple of more weeks.  I will be saving the last one for our 5 year wedding anniversary.  You take your year old cake.  I'll take the my months old croissant.   

Last night Tyler asked me what's next.   I don't know.  Maybe it's time we find something new.  Doughnuts?  Chocolate rugelach?  Regular chocolate croissants?  At this moment, nothing else feels quite right.   Perhaps each week is a grab bag and we constantly try new things until we settle on a favorite.  He suggested that maybe I could turn this into a new blog series - what comes after a perfect chocolate croissant?  

Trying new things with him wouldn't be the worst idea.  Maybe we can start creating a new set of memories.  Something else I can love so deeply that I always want to return to it week after week.  

Monday, July 15, 2019

broccoli quesadillas with chipotle-peanut sauce.


It's been a while.

Somehow, some way, we are in the middle of July and I feel as if I blinked and missed half of summer already.  But! It's been a really lovely summer thus far.  Weekends spent all over (Upstate! Miami!  Maine! The Beach!) and cooking/assembling/eating whatever looks remarkably in season and impossibly delicious.  I've been doing less "projects" and more winging it which is fun.  It also means dinner isn't always cohesive but rather a sum of parts.  Take last night for example where we ate grilled shisitos (first of the season!), steamed sweet potatoes with tahini butter, and tomato toasts with goat cheese and pesto.  Not your typical dinner but it was easy and delicious and isn't that the whole point of cooking?   

In addition to winging it, I've also found a couple of recipes that I love so much that they've become a part of our weekly rotation schedule.  Good for days where improvising feels like a lot of work.  These broccoli quesadillas have made the cut because they are fantastic.  Crunchy, spicy, cheesy.  Leftovers are delightful at room temperature the next day.  The best part is the peanut sauce which if you have a Vitamix and make it in there results in the most unbelievably creamy sauce you've ever encountered.  Great with chips, excellent drizzled over any number of vegetables, would also be excellent on a roll in a cemita type of sandwich.  

Broccoli Quesadillas with Chipotle-Peanut Sauce 
Recipe tweaked slightly from Food 52

For the Quesadillas
3 tablespoons canola oil, divided, plus more for cooking quesadillas
1 large broccoli crown (or 2 small), about 400 grams or 14 ounces
Roasted peppers if you happen to have some in your fridge
Kosher salt, to taste
1 lime
1 to 1 1/2 cups crumbled cotija, crumbled queso fresco, or shredded Monterey Jack cheese
6 soft corn or flour tortillas (about 6-inches in diameter)

For the Chipotle-Peanut Sauce
1/2 cup peanuts (I like roasted and salted)
2 chipotle chiles in adobo, plus 1 tablespoon adobe sauce (from the can)
3 tablespoons water
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 to 3 teaspoons honey, or to taste
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
Kosher salt, to taste

For Serving
Sliced avocado
Sour Cream/Yogurt Sauce
More limes!

To shave the broccoli: Trim the crown of any discolored areas and cut into quarters. Use the slicing blade of a food processor (or a sharp knife) to cut the broccoli into 1/4-inch slices. You should have about 4 to 4 1/2 cups. Set aside. (Tip: wipe the bowl of the food processor clean, and use it for Step 2.)

To make the chipotle-peanut sauce: In a food processor or blender, combine peanuts, chipotles, adobe sauce, water, olive oil, vinegar, and a pinch of salt. Process until smooth. Taste a small amount to gauge spiciness, then add honey, to taste, to balance the heat. Taste again, and adjust seasoning and acidity. Add more water (a teaspoon or two at a time) to loosen the sauce, if needed.

To make the filling: In a 12-inch skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of oil over medium-high heat. Add the  the broccoli and peppers; season with salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the broccoli is crisp-tender, about 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in 3 tablespoons of the chipotle-peanut sauce, lower the heat, and cook another minute to warm through. Season with salt and a few squeezes of lime juice, to taste.

To make quesadillas: In a large skillet, heat a teaspoon of oil over medium heat, then place the tortillas in the skillet (working in batches to fit). Quickly sprinkle the whole tortilla with cheese, then spread the broccoli mixture (about 1/4 to 1/3 cup) over half the tortilla and fold in half. Flip quesadilla; cook, pressing down a few times, until the cheese is fully melted and the tortilla is nicely toasted on both sides, about 4 to 5 minutes in total. **Alternatively, you can make the quesadillas with two full tortillas, which I sometimes do if my corn tortillas aren’t pliable.

For serving, stir together sour cream and 1/4 cup of the chipotle-peanut sauce (or more or less, to taste). Cut quesadillas into wedges, and serve with sour cream and lime.