grey is here to stay.

Picasso had a blue period.  I am having a grey period.  

I keep thinking it's because of the change in the seasons, but really I've been having a grey period for the better part of a year now, so I've simply accepted it's my new neutral.  (Sorry navy blue.)

This kitchen is everything.  Organized clutter is chic, which is why I love open shelving so much.  The combination of rustic and industrial is something I still can't get out of my head.  Elegant chandeliers and exposed pipes just feels right.  

(Like crystal necklaces and streamlined blazers.)

I have such a type.  

Image via Pinterest 

review: blue hill at stone barns.

I’ve spent the better part of the last 72 hours trying to figure out how to describe the meal the boy and I had at Blue Hill at Stone Barns this past Sunday.  I’ve struggled with the words because all I have are words and a couple of pictures to use to try and evoke the feelings that I had about that meal. 

The meal was nothing short of extraordinary. 

I have visited Stone Barns several times.  There is something magical about walking through the farms, watching cows graze on actual grass, the pigs lying in puddles of mud, the vegetables nestled in the greenhouses.  Watching the sun set there is breathtakingly beautiful.  The kind of scene a photograph can never provide justice to.   I’ve wanted to eat at Blue Hill for a while (and get married there for even longer but that's another story) now partially because Dan Barber is always spoken so highly of but mostly because Blue Hill is a restaurant that shares my feelings on food.  Food should be local, seasonal, and sustainable because food grown in that manner always tastes better. 

I won’t describe each of the 12 courses because I simply can't, it would be an impossible task.  Each course was composed of layers of flavors and textures.  Nothing tasted as it looked, instead flavors were pronounced and pure.  Bold and utterly beautiful.  Each plate came out looking like a piece of art work with droplets of vinegar that looked reminiscent of Jackson Pollack.  We were both blown away by the care and attention to detail that went into every component.  Presentation was the furthest thing from a second thought, presentation was of the utmost importance to these chefs since one eats with their eyes before they ever eat with their mouths.  I was in awe of everything.  

The meal was centered around tomatoes since we are currently in the throws of tomato season.  I ate tomatoes in every form - raw, roasted, smoked, and in a compote.  I forgot how much one can do with a single ingredient. How many ways it can be transformed.  How many ways it can taste.  I took notes under the table - dishes I wanted to try and recreate, flavors I wanted to bring into my own kitchen.  I was reminded of the importance crunchy components can bring to a dish.  (Rye breadcrumbs are my new favorite thing.)  I discovered that other people share my belief that meat does not need to be the center of a meal, instead a dish of smoky, slow cooked eggplant can take center stage.  

The moment that blew me away was when our darling waiter invited us to eat our last savory course in a different location.  I expected we were going to be taken to eat to the patio, but instead we were invited to the kitchen (the kitchen!) where I sat with my mouth agape watching Dan Barber and his team cook.  Watching a team of professionals, some of the best chefs in the industry creating beautiful food left me literally speechless.  It was truly the most special dinning experience I have ever had.  

A lot of people may question my sanity about spending so much money on a meal (heck, I think my parents do most days).  But for me it’s not a meal, it’s a 3 hour long performance art piece.  The quality and care that went into this meal cost more then what they charged us, and I wouldn't hesitate to spend it again (but not for another several months since I have yet to find a money tree).  

Blue Hill thank you for the most incredible meal.  

grape and rosemary foccacia (revisited).

I am going to preface this post with the fact that this is the second grape and rosemary focaccia recipe on the blog.  The first was posted almost exactly a year ago (I love how consistent my cooking can be).  You may be wondering how it is possible for me to be discussing a second version of grape foccacia because grape focaccia is not chili or tomato sauce or a food that warrants dozens of different varieties.  But I am a person who loves finding the best versions of thing and while the original was superb in flavor, I always found it to be a little fussier then I would like.  It was a project and I knew there had to be a way to make one that didn’t leave me with sticky dough covered fingers.  This new version does exactly that but in a more streamlined way.  The focaccia is crispy on the outside with a soft and chewy interior.  The grapes cook down, making pockets of tart jammy grapey goodness that intermingles perfectly with the sea salt and coarse sugar.  The rosemary perfumes the whole thing with a warm and earthy scent.  I usually devour the whole thing about 5 minutes after it emerges from the oven and I imagine you will do the same. 

Rosemary and Grape Focaccia (Revisited)

Recipe adapted from Dolci: Italy’s Sweets by Francine Segan

Makes one 9x13 bread

I edited this recipe a little since I found it to be a little overly complicated for my tastes and the new version is utterly perfect.  I also added a sprinkle of salt and coarse sugar (which is reminiscent of the original recipe) to the grapes in order to take this into a more savory direction.  If you don’t devour the whole thing straight from the pan, then I highly recommend serving it with a wedge of tallegio and some thin slices of prosciutto. 

7 tablespoons olive oil, divided

3 tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely minced

2 ¼ teaspoons (1 envelope) active dry yeast

½ cup warm water

2 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons sugar

½ teaspoon salt

1 ½ pounds concord grapes, halved and seeded (other grape varieties would work as well)

1 teaspoon flaky sea salt

1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons coarse suagar

In a small saucepan, heat 4 tablespoons of the oil and 2 tablespoons of the rosemary until warm.  Set aside to cool to room temperature.

Sprinkle the yeast into the warm water and set it aside until it bubbles, about 2 minutes.  Sift the flour onto a work surface or into a large bowl.  Make a well in the center and fill with the yeast water, rosemary oil, 3 tablespoons of sugar, and the salt.  Gradually incorporate the flour into the liquid in the well until a dough forms.  Knead the dough until smooth, then set it aside in a lightly oiled bowl until it doubles, about 1 hours. 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Coat a 9x13 inch baking pan with 2 tablespoons of the oil.

Place the dough in the baking pan, stretching the dough so it reaches the corners of the pan.  Top the dough with the grapes.  Sprinkle the coarse sugar, sea salt, and remaining tablespoon of the rosemary over the grapes.  Drizzle the remaining tablespoon of oil over the bread.  Bake for about 1 hour, until the top is golden brown.  Serve at room temperature. 

fresh tomato sauce.

Tomatoes, in comparison to a month ago, are shockingly cheap at the moment, especially the ones that called “seconds, rejects, and unloved” (all names I have seen them labeled with on cardboard signs at the farmer’s market).  While those tomatoes may not be lookers, they still taste absurdly delicious especially when broken down and turned into a tomato sauce that elevates boring spaghetti.  I’ve been stocking up on these rejects, turning them into sauce, and storing them in the freezer so when the depths of winter finally does arrive, I am armed with the taste of summer to get me through.  This is a fun and easy weekend project, the kind of thing that takes no time, but results in a product that is leagues better than anything you will ever buy in the store.  It’s also immensely satisfying to turn an ugly looking tomato into a beautiful homemade sauce. 

Fresh Tomato Sauce

I will be the first to tell you that I was supremely lazy and I did not seed my tomatoes, mostly because the tomatoes I was using really didn’t have many seeds.  If yours are like that, (lucky you) then please skip the seeding step, but it takes no time at all to seed them if you choose to.

Makes about 4 cups

4 pounds of tomatoes – heirloom, roma, beefsteak, really anything works here

¼ cup olive oil

3 cloves of garlic

¼ tsp crushed red pepper flakes

½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

Slivers of basil to finish

Bring a pot of water to boil. Cut a small X at the bottom of each tomato.  Blanche the tomatoes in the boiling water for 30 seconds, then either rinse under cold water or shock in an ice water bath.  Peel the tomatoes!  If you can’t get the skin off, toss it back in the boiling water for another 10 seconds until the skin loosens up.  Compost or discard the skins.

Quarter your tomatoes.  Place a strainer over a bowl, and squeeze the seeds out of the tomatoes.  Coarsely chop the de-seeded tomatoes and set aside.  Mince your garlic. 

Heat your olive oil in a large heavy bottomed pot over medium heat.  Add the garlic and red pepper flakes to the oil and cook until the garlic begins to brown, about 2 minutes.  Add your chopped tomatoes and the tomato juice you collected under the strainer to the pot, and bring to a simmer.  Lower the heat to medium-low to keep it at a gentle simmer.  Use a potato-masher to break up the tomatoes as they cook.  Simmer your sauce, stirring occasionally for about 35 – 45 minutes until the sauce has concentrated and developed a caramelized flavor. 

Taste and season with salt.   Scatter fresh basil over the sauce before serving (if freezing you may want to omit the basil). 

industrial and rustic merge.

I always know fall is coming when I suddenly begin to crave darker, richer, more intense colors (like my new oxblood bag). 

But always they need to be paired with an element or bright (I save all black for the deep days of winter.) 

This kitchen is everything I am craving for fall. Loving the textured wall paper and the exposed light bulbs.  The combination of industial lights and rustic tables also feels just right (kind of like plaid and leather which also feels so right.)   

Image via Pinterest.  

roasted pepper and tomato panzanella.

As a 28 year old who before last week had never been on a business trip, it’s safe to say that I had slightly skewed expectations of the experience.  Somehow I convinced myself that it was a paid vacation (hotel rooms and expensed meals, hooray!) and then I went on one and realized a business trip involves you performing your same job in a different location which really is not as cool as it sounds. 

The part I hated the most was all the eating out.  I know that sounds far-fetched.  As someone who keeps notebooks filled with restaurants I hope to someday eat at, the idea of eating out every meal on someone else’s dime should be my dream.  But it wasn't because it loses the appeal of eating out (it’s suppose to be a special occasion thing!).  Not to mention there is something slightly lonely about eating by yourself (I missed my plate-cleaning partner in crime). 

I spent yesterday in the kitchen – cooking, baking, and on the couch catching up with the September issue of Bon Appetit (I needed a break from all the fall fashion reading I've been doing. Shocking, I know.).  I dog-eared most of the issue, there seemed to be something delicious on almost every page, but the dish that really caught my eye was the roasted pepper panzanella.  It said end of summer eating. It was also everything I wanted to eat after a week of eating in someone else’s kitchen.  

This dish is comforting yet exciting.  Healthy(ish) and deeply satisfying.  The flavors are bold and assertive (red wine vinegar wakes everything up) and those flavors pair perfectly with creamy cheese, sweet peppers, and earthy herbs.  The bread manages in a short period of time to soak up all the juices making it soft and flavorful. It's magical and perfect and it reminds of why I love eating in my own home.  And why I love cooking oh so much.  

Roasted Pepper and Tomato Panzanella

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit

Serves 2 for dinner (with a little little left over for your lunch) or 4 - 6 for a appetizer portion  

So I played around with this recipe a little (because I can’t help myself sometimes) by adding in some roasted tomatoes,   swapping the buffalo mozzarella for burrata (because I always look for ways to add burrata to a dish), and finishing the dish with a flurry of torn basil.  This is end of summer eating at its finest. If you are anything like me and my other half, you will find yourself saying after your plate is cleared "that was really, really good".  

3 large red or orange (or a combination) bell peppers (about 1 ½ pounds)

3 medium-sized heirloom tomatoes, diced into 1 inch pieces  (tomatoes the size of small apple or peach)

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

¼ - ½ teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes

3 tablespoons basil, torn into small pieces, divided

½ loaf country-style bread (about 12 ounces), torn into pieces or cut into cubes

1 – 2 ounces thinly sliced spicy salami (hot sopressata is perfect here)

1 ball of burrata or buffalo mozzarella (about 6 – 8 ounces)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  On a rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment, place the peppers and the diced tomatoes.  Season the diced tomatoes with salt and pepper.  Cook the peppers and tomatoes about 25 – 30 minutes until the peppers are blackened in spots and blistered all over and the tomatoes are shriveled and caramelized in color.  Transfer peppers to a large bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let sit 15 minutes.  Keep oven on.

In a large bowl, toss bread with 2 tablespoons olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper.  Bake, tossing occasionally, until crisp on the outside but still chewy in the center 8-10 minutes.  Let croutons cool a couple of minutes. 

Remove the skins from the peppers with your fingers or the back of a butter knife.  Remove the seeds as well.  Cut the peppers into 1 inch strips. 

Place tomatoes in the bowl your tossed the bread in (saving dish-washing duty!) along with the peppers, garlic, vinegar, red pepper flakes, 2 tablespoons basil, and the remaining oil.  Taste and season with salt and pepper. 

Add the cooled croutons to the bowl, along with the salumi.  Toss to combine.  Arrange the mixture on a platter with pieces of the cheese.  Top with remaining tablespoon of basil and a sprinkle of sea salt.