September 9th, 2009
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Mediterranean Tuna Antipasto Salad
From Eating Well magazine…..
Good quality tuna in olive oil
Fresh romaine leaves
Red pepper strips
Garbanzo beans
Kalamata olives
Cucumber slices
Tomato wedges (or cherry tomato halves)
Avocado slices
Wash and dry romaine leaves and tear into bite sized pieces. Dress with a drizzle of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. Arrange on plate. Top with remaining ingredients and another drizzle of oil.
Variation: The tuna can be mixed with the ingredients (diced to bite size pieces), and a dressing of choice and served in tomato cups, on a bed of greens, on crostini or with crackers.
September 7th, 2009
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I’m not sure why, but I’ve been rather shy about mint in my cooking career. Did I have a traumatic experience with mint at some point in my life? The overdose on wintergreen Life Savers that I went through as a child? Why has mint not been forefront in my culinary dishes?
I haven’t an answer, but as of late, I seem to be making up for lost time on the mint appreciation. It’s been all over the place.
I love it muddled in a glass with chilled green tea poured over it. I’ve shredded it into salads and sprinkled it in pilafs. I ate some over sweet melon chunks, sighing in contentment at the contrast in flavors. It’s wonderful mixed with fresh oregano in any corn dish (hint: leftover cooked fresh corn, cut from it’s cobs needs nothing more than fresh oregano, fresh mint, a drizzle of olive oil and some salt and pepper. Toss it on a salad. You’re welcome)
Mint has been a regular in my fridge as of late and I’m only just beginning to understand the reaches to which this herb can go. A huge thick bunch is about $1.50 at the grocer, and wrapped in a damp paper towel in a plastic bag, it lasts for quite some time in my fridge. The last thing I ever thought I would be doing would be eagerly and gleefully searching out recipes that will include mint. Or making them up, as it turned out. Like this Lemon Mint Potato Salad with Green Beans.
I browse hundreds of food sites, recipe sites and food information in any given week. I am always undertaking a study of food in all it’s glory from the amazing array of food blogs both stellar and odd, to the sites that talk food, culture, nutrition and diet. I know that somewhere in my browsing I came across a dish similar to this because it’s the only way I can think that it got into my brain at some point, and the mere action of holding onto a bunch of mint at the grocer made it jump front and center, to the spot where all my creativity pours out. It’s rare that I really smack a home-run the very first time creating a recipe from scratch, but this one worked. On all levels. The crunchy beans, moist potato and superbly tart and lemony dressing, with hints of mint and dijon mustard come together in a lovely symphony of simplistic eating. I was sad when I was full.
Lemon Mint Potato Salad with Green Beans
by Kate
1# ‘B’ Red potatoes, quartered and steamed to tenderness
1/2# fresh green beans, blanched and shocked to cool
1/2 c. fresh mint leaves, washed and dried
Juice of half a lemon
2 t. lemon zest
1/4 c. olive oil
1 T. dijon (or other brown, deli style) mustard
1 oz fresh goat cheese, crumbled
Salt and pepper
Place potato and beans in a medium bowl. In a small measuring cup, whisk together lemon juice, lemon zest, olive oil, mustard, goat cheese and 2 T. of the mint until smooth and creamy. Season to taste with salt and pepper. It will be very tart and lemony, with a subtle mustard zing. Pour over potato mix and gently stir to coat. Serve room temperature or chill for an hour or more before serving. Top with mint leaves and extra salt and pepper before serving.
SIDE NOTE:
The kind folks at Ile De France cheese regularly send me free cheese to try at home, and I am very grateful for their generosity. The goat cheese used in this recipe is one of their offerings, a 10.5 oz chunk that is fresh and flavorful, with a subtle hint of herb and grass and a terrific texture that crumbles easily, melts superbly and whisks smooth in any number of options. It lasts for a good long time wrapped up properly. Thanks so much Ile De France!!
September 4th, 2009
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I was more than thrilled to be contacted by Penguin Publishers asking if I wished to receive a copy of Laura Shapiro’s bio of Julia Child to review. I love the perks of food blogging!
Just a caveat: I am probably one of the minority of the food blogging world who hasn’t jumped all over Julie and Julia: The Movie. Every review I read about the movie labeled it as mediocre, and only half worth seeing. Truthfully? I hated the book, finding Julie Powell to be a foul-mouthed, whiny and mean-spirited woman who didn’t really seem to learn all that much about her year of cooking MtAoFC except that there’s a small group of people who enjoy reading profanity laced blog posts. And it just about kills me that this caustic woman has been so readily associated with a woman of Julia Child’s standing. Reading Laura’s book makes me even more chapped about that.
The book is a quick but absorbing read. It’s barely 200 pages even with a prologue and index, and every page leaps with vivid description of the larger than life persona of Julia Child. It takes the reader through her privileged upbringing of a charmed youth, her foray into service for WWII and the subsequent meeting and courtship of Julia and Paul Child. Julia’s spirit shines in every page. Here was a woman who struggled most of her life with defining herself and making life purposeful, yet she never once backed down on her positive and bubbly outlook regardless of the situation. Julia encountered a great deal of backlash in her lifetime, and it never brought her down, never caused her to retaliate and never made her feel like giving up and settling. She strove forward in her quest to introduce real French cuisine to America, a culture that was steeped at the time in foods that often horrified her. The book tallies the enormous task of writing Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and the exhaustive means to which Julia prepared, tested and re-tested every recipe in the book. She fought against the conventions of French cooking, which was mostly done by men and remained firm in her belief that anyone could understand the techniques and methods that many people felt were so steeped in tradition and culture that they remained undefinable. Julia’s sense of cooking was nothing more than understanding the love behind each meal. It was never about showing off or glorifying what was going on in the kitchen; Julia wanted people to know, inherently, what real cooking was all about. It wasn’t just putting a list of ingredients together. It was about knowing what the process was behind the list, the means to bring these items together to make an incredible taste. It was science, technique and above all else, it was love.
The book also fully chronicles the love story between Julia and Paul. Paul Child, the book reiterates, was actually quite unimpressed with Julia when they first met, but as the story progresses, through snippets of letters between Paul and his brother, you see the transformation of a man from indifferent and aloof, to one who falls spellbound in love with her spirit and personality. Theirs is a true partnership and classic romance. He was the solid and dependable force behind The French Chef programs as they aired on television, helping her to create, plan and execute them to the best of her abilities. He tirelessly supported her, held her up and accompanied her through her rise to fame and stardom and was her biggest and most prominent fan, always by her side for media visits, book signings and press tours.
I love a book that leaves me feeling like I’ve just sat down and taken in a long and intimate conversation with someone. I finished the book almost in tears as it discusses first Paul’s failing health and Julia’s anguish at placing him in a nursing home, and then finally, Julia’s physical denouement, the strokes, surgeries and ill health that finally took down the indomitable spirit that was Julia Child. I found particularly touching the passage about Julia’s recovery from knee replacement surgery, and how she was finding it extremely difficult to manage the energy to get to her feet for the required therapy. Her longtime assistant instructed the therapists to bring her into a kitchen and ask her to slice some onions. Once the knife was in Julia’s hand, and the counter in front of her, she rose to her feet and began, in earnest to cut up the onions placed before her, finding the encouragement in her most beloved task to take on the difficult and painful exercises. It’s a rare book that makes me feel lonely when I finish, wanting more of the person so well defined within it’s pages.
For all of her fans, this is an easy and enjoyable read, full of insight to a much beloved culinary icon. I fully related to the sentence that claims there are two kinds of cooks in the world; those who wish to impress and those who just want to feed people. Julia loved feeding people, and cared nothing for impressing anyone. Her ego needed no stroking and she didn’t care much if no one liked what she did. All she wanted was to make them sigh in contentment over the dishes in front of them, and given her legacy, it’s clear that her life was a mission accomplished.
September 2nd, 2009
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Poblano Chile Tostada
from the Eat Wisconsin Cheese website
Corn tortillas are heated to a crisp, then topped with roasted poblano peppers, grilled chicken and zucchini, fresh corn and tomato and then heated to warm everything through. Top with cilantro and queso fresco cheese. This is a great item for the grill as you can make multiple tostadas with ease, and if offering a variety of ingredients, everyone can customize to their liking.
August 31st, 2009
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Banana bread? Oh yawwwwwnnn……seriously?
Oh my yes! Seriously!
If you are at all a fan of a good banana bread, one that smells perfectly banana-y, is superbly moist and tender, with the added attraction of caramelized banana pieces on top- yes! on top!- of the bread, then you really, I mean, really need to give this recipe a whirl. I love a good banana bread. I mean, since I was a kid I have loved banana bread and I have always been a stalwart for my Mom’s tried and true recipe that I’ve rarely ever strayed away from, but oh do times change, and tastes mature and now, with this recipe and it’s 8 bananas….yes, no typo there folks…. I’m pretty sure that even my Mom would be nodding in approval. And snatching another piece, maybe feigning indignant hurt that I’ve strayed, with her mouth full.
This recipe comes from the Huckleberry Bakery and Cafe in Santa Monica CA. No, I haven’t been jet-setting across the country to bring you a new and agonizingly delicious banana bread recipe, I just happened to be browsing the LA Times food section and came across this. One glance and I was sold. Eight bananas, people. Eight. And poppyseeds. And dates. And did I mention the eight bananas?
So besides the abundance of fruit, the sugar sprinkle across the top that melts and gets gooey brown and fabulous in the oven and the pockets of tender dates baked into the loaf, just what makes it so good? For one thing, you whip the butter and sugar until it’s barely recognizable as such, creating a base layer that just shouts out it’s fluff and tender personality. It’s loaded with vanilla. There’s sour cream and some poppy seeds. It’s like a whole adventure in texture, taste and crumb, and a day or two on the counter only intensifies it’s beauty. I’m a goner. Better crank up the cardio if this one sticks around, because I foresee it sticking to many spots I may wish to ignore before too long. Restraint, where art thou???
Banana Poppyseed Loaf-
From The Huckleberry Bakery and Cafe, Santa Monica CA (and the LA Times newspaper)
3/4 c. butter, softened
3/4 c. sugar
1-1/2 c. AP flour
1-1/2 c. whole wheat flour
1-1/2 t. baking powder
1-1/2 t. baking soda
3 T. poppyseeds
1 t. salt
5 ripe bananas, plus 2 fresh bananas (divided)
3 eggs
1 T. vanilla extract
1 c. plain or vanilla yogurt
6-8 oz. chopped dates (most pkgs are 8 oz; I used the whole pkg)
Heat oven to 375°. Spray two loaf pans with baking spray.
In a medium bowl, whisk the flours, leaveners, salt and poppyseeds together. In your stand mixer or with a hand mixer, cream butter and sugar until very light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Don’t skimp here. Make it really airy and light. Add eggs, one at a time, and blend each one well. In a separate bowl, mash the 5 ripe bananas well and stir in the vanilla. Spoon into the butter mixture and blend well. It will look kind of curdled but don’t fret. It all comes together. Mix in the yogurt until incorporated then gradually stir in the dry ingredients. Fold the dates in gently.
Divide the batter between the two loaf pans and smooth the top. Slice the other bananas into 1/2″ slices and line the top of the batter with them, pressing them down slightly. Sprinkle the bananas with sugar of choice. A good raw sugar would be nice, or a flavored version if you have one. I used a pistachio sugar.
Bake the loaves for about an hour, rotating them halfway through. Check at around the 50 minute mark for doneness. Use a wooden skewer if necessary. Cool loaves for about 20-30 minutes in pan, then run a knife around the edges and unmold the loaves onto a cooling rack. You may have a banana piece drop off in the process. Bummer. Better eat it.
Sift powdered sugar over the top if you wish, but I didn’t. It doesn’t need it. Indulge. Enjoy. Live the banana joie de vivre!
August 26th, 2009
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Growing up in South Minneapolis, there was a bakery that my Mom went to regularly on W. 50th St. between Aldrich and Bryant called Meyer’s Bake Shop. It was a tiny little place with decorated cakes in the windows and mirrored cases along the walls, loaves of yeasty breads in baskets on the countertops and long glass front cases that held every imaginable delight, right at eye level for a kid my age. I remember the decisive creak of the door as we pushed it open; the warm of the room, the smells…oh the smells!…. that rushed forth in the humidity inside to meet us. My head swoons just recalling what it was like. Mom would load up on sandwich breads, rolls or buns and chat with the friendly ladies behind the counter as me and my sisters would oogle the baked goods, the luscious cupcakes, fudgey topped brownies and petit fours, waiting until the expected moment when Mom would tell us to pick out our cookie. We always got to choose one. Karen wanted Oatmeal Raisin, Kris usually took Chocolate Chip. I asked for a Sugar Cookie every single time.
Meyer’s had the finest sugar cookies. They had scalloped edges that had the perfect crispy snap to them, with centers that were soft and moist. The cookie nearly melted in my mouth and was rich in vanilla and butter, with crystallized sugar covering the surface. I never refused a trip to the bakery with Mom. Meyer’s meant Sugar Cookies. Getting just one was a wonderful experience, although I easily could have eaten as many as I could hold, if just once given a chance. It was perfection in waxed paper.
But then life as we knew it ended, and suddenly there were no more trips to the tiny neighborhood bakery, no more moments of sugar cookie bliss. We moved too far away, life became more about making it through each day than about bakery breads and kindly chatting. And even when Mom made me a batch of specially requested Sugar Cookies, the flavor was flat and uninspiring. I ate them, but they didn’t have the same snappy crunch or sweet tender bite. Sometimes I would ride by Meyer’s and see the decorated windows, and think in my mind that I had to get back there and buy myself a sack of their Sugar Cookies. A sack that would be full of the nostalgia I sought, and craved. When I was in high school, which was about a half mile or so from that bakery, I went down there one day after school and pushed open the big heavy door. The creak was still there, and the smell of yeast and sugar came rushing to my nose like I hoped it would, but my teenage eyes took note of the worn countertops, the dusty curtains in the window and had I ever realized that those cakes were fake? The ladies behind the counter weren’t very friendly, mostly they looked tired and worn. The glass cases were scratched and one had a long crack in it. The selections of breads were minimal, but in the cookie case lay the prized scalloped sugar cookies like always. I bought six of them and eagerly dug into the bag as I left the store, yearning for the first buttery bite. I was going to stuff myself with each one of those golden discs and no one was going to stop me.
But the cookie that came to my mouth was nothing like I remembered. It was pasty and dry, and left a coating on my tongue and lips that could only have come from shortening. The butter was gone, a wisp of memory. It was crunchy through and through. There was no soft interior or moist crumbs. It looked the same, but it was wrong. All wrong. And it was a crashing disappointment. Somewhere along the way life had veered off into the direction of adulthood, and the whimsy of simpler days ends up left behind in nothing more than shadowy memories. What I wanted from that cookie was to be taken back to something that no longer existed; a trip to a neighborhood bakery, holding on to a trusted hand and the sweet buttery bite of love. I know that life has to change, and we have to grow and move on, learning hard lessons along the way and laying waste to a warehouse of memories, but really, do the beloved flavors have to go with it? Maybe the cookie was exactly the same, but my mouth, having now experienced the bitter plate that life pushes our way, had become jaded and sour. It’s probably a combination of the inevitable change for both the cookie, and the hands that consumed it.
So it would stand to reason that I’ve looked long and hard for a recipe that closely duplicates that flavor and crunch. It has to be with butter and just the right touch of vanilla. The edges need to be crispy, the interior moist and soft. And it needs the scent of my childhood. I’m fairly certain that what was in that cookie memory from days back when wasn’t much different than any recipe out there, but surrounding the standard butter, sugar, egg, flour and vanilla was the cozy cocoon of a life that had yet to break at the edges, where trust was all you needed that from the moment you awoke to when you lay to sleep at night, someone had your back, and was holding your hand. At some point we’re all cast out into the chasm, finding our footing and learning how to navigate a life we know nothing about. We seek comfort in our foods to help remind us that it wasn’t always this way. This recipe comes awfully close
Sugar Cookies
1 c. softened butter, no substitutes (reserve one of the wrappers)
1-1/2 c. white sugar
2 t. pure vanilla extract
1 egg
2-3/4 c. AP flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. baking powder
Heat the oven to 375° and line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Place about 1/3 of a cup of white sugar on a small plate and set aside.
Cream butter and the 1-1/2 cups of sugar together until very light and fluffy. Add in egg and vanilla extract and blend thoroughly until smooth and creamy. You really can’t overmix at this point. You want a base that is smooth and creamy as it makes the end result stupendous. Stir together flour, baking soda and powder, and with mixer on low, gradually add to butter until fully incorporated and mixture is in large, somewhat dry chunks. It will not be a smooth batter, but granular, like pie crust. The dough should hold together when pressed between your fingertips. If it doesn’t, give it a few more turns with the mixer. Here’s where you don’t want to mix more than necessary. The dough will come together when it bakes, I promise.
Using a small scoop (I used a #60 sized) press dough tight into a ball and drop onto cookie sheet. With your butter wrapper, wipe the bottom of a smooth glass, then dip the glass onto the sugar you’ve set aside. Gently press down on the cookie dough, dipping the glass before each one. If any dough falls loose, lightly push the pieces into the sides of the cookie.
The cookies will bake up just fine if you don’t wish to flatten them; that’s just my preferred method. Bake for 8-10 minutes, reversing trays from front to back, and swapping top to bottom about halfway through.
I like to remove the cookies right way, on the parchment to a cooling rack. These are pretty sturdy once baked, and will slip off the parchment easily with a gentle nudge. You simply must eat at least a few of them warm. Of course, a glass of cold milk, or a nice cup of coffee or tea is an excellent accompaniment. The cookies will become firmer as they sit for a day or two.
August 22nd, 2009
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Mike and I recently had our 7th anniversary. I’ve posted on the blog in prior years about it, but this time around I enjoyed it quietly. With cake. I’ll get to that in due time, ok?
And as a side note, today, August 22nd, is Mike’s birthday, my niece Leah’s birthday, and my friend Melissa’s birthday!! Woot!
Ok, now back to anniversaries, the untraditional, and of course, CAKE.
Someone asked me what gift coincided with the 7th anniversary, and I had to pause a moment to recall what they were talking about. Apparently each year has some sort of meaning in terms of the gift you give, and seriously, who does this anymore? If you’re at all interested in what each year should entail, check this out. The 7th anniversary, according to that chart, should be either Wool, Copper or a Desk Set.
I’m stunned at the romance behind that.
My husband is not a gift giver, and I don’t know that I’ve met anyone who has more anxiety and trepidation over getting someone a gift. It just isn’t his thing. If you’re one of those people who think that no special occasion is complete without a pretty wrapped package, you might have some trouble with this mentality, and admittedly, it was a somewhat tough reality for me to accept at first, but Mike has shown me in the eight years I’ve known him that the best gift he can give me resides within him, not in some store. He gives me his heart and his love on a daily basis. No brightly wrapped box will ever come close to that. Although in years past I have asked for a few items- a simple bracelet, a 5th anniversary ring- what I get from him every day comes without a price tag, and all year long. I would take that over a thousand red roses, a paper card or a shiny trinket because it really is so much more vital to a happy union than some expected token given out of a sense of obligation.
So I didn’t get an anniversary gift, not in a box, wrapped in paper, with a bow anyway. I got this…..
……for the rest of my life. That’s an awfully spectacular gift.
But there has to be cake. It is, after all, the best of celebrations, the finest excuse to kick up our heels and revel in what we share. And because there is little convention to our celebrations, what with the absence of pretty packages, the cake we shared should also bear little resemblance to those towering stacks of genoise, layered in thick cloying buttercream that are often represented at your standard party.
So I made a Flourless Honey Almond Cake.
This cake, from the April issue of Eating Well magazine, caught my eye immediately when I first read about it. I like a good cake that is versatile, a slice being perfect for a quick light snack or dressed up with vanilla bean ice cream for a more glorious treat. The cake is light and deeply nutty, using ground toasted almonds for the base that is then fluffed with beaten egg whites. Although I was expecting something a bit sweeter due to the honey, and it was delightful as it was, I imagined a version with orange zest and juice to give it just a little more personality, some more ‘Hey, Look at Me!’ kind of taste. It was the easiest cake to put together. My new springform pan worked beautifully too.
Flourless Honey Almond Cake
1-1/2 c. toasted whole almonds
4 large eggs, room temperature and separated
1/2 c. honey
1-1/2 t. pure vanilla extract
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
Topping (optional)
Honey and toasted sliced almonds
Heat your oven to 350°. Spray a 9-inch springform pan with cooking spray; line bottom with parchment paper and spray paper. Process the whole toasted almonds in a food processor until finely ground. It’s ok if there are some larger bits, it makes for a delicious texture.
In the bowl of your mixer, beat the 4 egg yolks, honey, vanilla, baking soda and salt on medium speed until well combined. Add in the ground almonds and mix to incorporate. The mixture will be very thick and sticky.
In a separate bowl, and with clean beaters, beat the 4 egg whites until they become very foamy and double in size, but not to a point of holding stiff peaks. You want them to be firm, but still loose. Turn off the beaters and push them gently through the whites; the whites should be firm enough that the beaters make ridges yet still fall away when you stop.
With a rubber spatula, gently fold the egg whites into the almond-honey mixture until just combined. Be sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl as you fold. Pour batter into prepared pan and bake on center rack of oven for 25-30 minutes. A cake tester will come out clean and the top will be golden brown. Allow the cake to cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then run a knife around the edges and release the spring. Cool the cake completely before removing the bottom part of the pan.
Serve with vanilla ice cream, yogurt or fruit topping. Or just eat it plain.
August 17th, 2009
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First, there was a teeny little fun project.
 
Then there was dinner.
       
There was some good wine…..
and a good book……
It was almost a shame that the evening had to end. Sometimes you get such a perfect balance of simple, well- cooked and seasoned food, with plenty of color and a varied amount of flavor that you wish it could last for hours. It was that good. The night was breezy and warm, a beautiful rendition of mid-August, and the guys were each off on their own pursuits. It was just me and the cats. And it was heaven.
Pickled Radishes
From Epicurious
1/2 c. red wine vinegar
1/4 c. water
1/4 c. white sugar
2 t. kosher salt
1 t. mustard seed
1 t. coriander seed
1/2 t. peppercorns
2 bay leaf
1 bunch radishes, sliced thin
Scrub radishes well with a stiff brush and slice thin, discarding the stem end. Place in a pyrex or other heatproof bowl. Combine ingredients for the brine in a small saucepan and bring to a slow simmer, stirring to dissolve sugar. Simmer for about two minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly, then pour over radish slices, stirring to combine. Allow radishes and brine to cool for about 20-30 minutes, then spoon the entire mixture into a glass jar with a lid. Be sure to have sterilized the jar, lid and ring well in hot soapy water or by boiling. Screw on the lid, shake well to combine everything once again, and place jar in refrigerator. These are ready to eat within 3-4 hours. They will get more tang and bite the longer they sit. If you don’t wish to have the pink slices, substitute white wine vinegar for the red. This recipe offers a perfect balance of sweet and tart.
The idea for the dinner came from ————> HERE
The recipe for the Garlicky White Beans is —————> HERE
My method for grilling zucchini and eggplant can be found ———> HERE
August 14th, 2009
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August has descended to show us what it’s capable of setting out. I’ve missed the heat….. and I fully realize how strange that might sound, but here in Minnesota, this summer has been anything but hot. While there are some who may tend towards whining about weather, we often can feel cheated if a summer passes us by without whacking us a good one with it’s expected personality. July’s average temperature was 70° and that’s unheard of in this state. I wore a sweatshirt last month. And pants. Maple trees beginning to turn in July is no one’s idea of Summertime.
Did you know that the origin of the term ‘Dog Days of Summer’, those sultry and hottest days traditionally between early July and early September, were once considered an evil time when ‘the seas boiled, wine turned sour, dogs grew mad, and all creatures became languid, causing to man burning fevers, hysterics, and frenzies’ ? Really….dramatic, huh? But I suppose in the days before air conditioning…..
Last night there was a spectacular lightning show to our Southeast. The flashes leapt from cloud to cloud, jagged arcs across an edge of the sky that was otherwise clear and filled with stars. I watched from our second floor window to get the best look at the awesome display and on occasion, would turn my eyes away to look at the glittering points of light around me. I was amply rewarded, during this, the time of Perseid, to see one lone asteroid streaking across the sky as lightning continued to flash in the other direction. It was an incredible sight.
I haven’t been blogging about much food, have I? My apologies. We’ve been eating, but it’s been simple fare, really the best kind. Isn’t it wonderful that often the best thing you can do to food is as little as possible? Farmers markets are stuffed to bursting with more fresh fare that imagineable; the deep purple eggplants, rich green peppers and in grand fashion, trucks that are overflowing with sweet corn.
Like the sweet cherry season of early June where I am known to purchase a sack of ruby fruits several times a week, this time of year I will happily eat my weight in sweet corn. Or try to anyway. I’m not shy about indulging and enjoying it, my hopes pinned on being so absolutely tired of it that when it’s gone for the year I won’t miss it much. Until next summer, anyway. There such a joy to biting into that quintessential taste of summer, kernels so juicy that they spray an unsuspecting fellow diner, warm melty butter slicking my lips. I can find means to eat it every single day. Have you ever tried sweet corn, smoked salmon and goat cheese in an omelet?? I highly recommend it. With fresh basil, please.
Our suppers have been simple these days as well, lunches light and refreshing. I’ve been a bit obsessed with these beans, loving the simplicity as well as the taste. I can make an entire meal out of a thickly sliced eggplant, brushed with oil and grilled to a nice char. We enjoyed a spicy, kicky meal of chili-garlic grilled shrimp, another round of Mike’s famous burritos. There was time at the lake, where a simple mix of grilled vegetables made for an amazing side dish. Local tomatoes are starting to arrive. I haven’t felt like there’s been much to blog about because what’s going on in the kitchen here is what should be happening in your kitchen as well, and others too. Very little. Your meal shouldn’t be putting you out, or taxing your energy. There’s a summertime outside, quietly slipping away yet with enough remaining moments to grab in your hands, maybe with a picnic on the side.
How about a nice Tabbouleh style salad to pack up and take along?
 
Chickpea Tabbouleh
By Kate (with some help from The Minimalist)
I 15-oz can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
2-3 c. cooked bulgur
1 c. fresh green beans, steamed with a bit of crunch and diced
2 medium tomatoes, diced
1 medium carrot, peeled and grated on a microplane (watch the fingertips!)
1/3 c. minced fresh parsley
1/3 c. minced fresh mint
Juice and zest of half a lemon (more if you desire)
3 T. good olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Place chickpeas in a medium bowl and gently mash with a fork or other implement to break down into small pieces. Add in remaining ingredients and drizzle lemon juice and oil over all. Toss to coat and combine. Season to taste and chill for several hours. Stir before serving and adjust seasoning if necessary. Change-up veggies as you please.
SOME TIPS:
Make it less, make it more; vary the bulgur to chickpea ratio according to what you desire for your salad. Add more chickpea, less grain, or reverse it. When making a salad like this, the idea of having uniformity is pleasing to the eye and makes it easier to consume, hence the microplane for grating the carrot and the step of breaking down the chickpeas. It isn’t necessary though. As per any recipe with fresh herbs, personal taste prevails. Add more if you like, or less.
August 11th, 2009
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I always love the free product offers that come my way due to this food blog, but the fact is, I turn down way more of them than I actually accept, mostly because the product offered just isn’t one that I would use.
This cookie dough from Pillsbury, however, is one of those that had me firmly on the fence. I decided that it would be worth a least a respectable glance, and you certainly can’t argue with ‘Free’.
I grew up with scratch cookies that my Mom made. We never ate anything store-bought, and even now I rarely, if ever, buy store cookies. In keeping the right kinds of ingredients on hand, I can have a batch of warm cookies in about a half hour, and I know I don’t even have to tell you a thing about the superior flavor of a home-baked cookie. But this product did intrigue me because it claimed to be nothing more than your basic cookie dough- no additives, preservatives or funny chemicals that you can taste even through the glass of milk that you drink to wash down your warm cookie.
And Pillsbury delivers on that. The ingredient list reads like any recipe should- flour, butter, eggs, baking soda, salt….your basic mix. The cookies come in two flavors- Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip and I was sent two free vouchers, plus some really nice, sturdy canvas bags and a full informative press kit. My local grocer had the cookie dough on sale as well- two packages for $5.00, with each package containing 12 pucks. I bought four, essentially getting half for free.
I baked a package of each cookie right away. The day was a bit warm and the dough sat out on the counter for maybe 10 minutes before I placed the pucks on sheets and they had become quite soft. The cookies were pretty flavorful but I detected an off flavor in the chocolate chip version, owing to what I think is an inferior chip. They aren’t bad, but when you’re used to Guittard or Ghiradhelli chips in your cookies, anything else can seem pretty bland. I did, however, really like the peanut butter cookie. I’ve always enjoyed a good peanut butter cookie but tend to be put off by the usual grainy or chalky texture they tend to have; this one had none of that, just good clean peanut butter taste.
I wouldn’t buy these for home use, but they would be a really good option for us to have on hand at our lake home for a quick treat. They’re simple to use and bake, and keep in the freezer for up to 60 days. Price-wise, even at $2.50 per package I think it’s too expensive, coming out to be $0.21 per cookie. You can make them from scratch for pennies. The product is geared towards your everyday ‘Busy Mom’ who wants to offer home-baked taste without a fuss. As fas as pre-made products go, these are a very good option that you can feel good about serving, really the nicest and most flavorful of any pre-made cookie dough I’ve had and that’s fine if it’s your thing, but it isn’t mine. I’m happy to tell others about it though!
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