Zucchini-Feta Pancakes

 I found this recipe in the classic Moosewood Cookbook. I still had some frozen grated zucchini from my garden harvest and we also had some crumbled feta in the refrigerator. 

The recipe called for 4 cups of grated zucchini and I had considerably less than that so I halved the recipe. I figured it would be fine since the recipe also said that it serves four and there were only two of us. There was no problem halving the recipe, except that it turned out that it only made four smallish pancakes, so had we not supplemented the meal with some leftover dressing and cranberry sauce from Thanksgiving we would have been pretty hungry.

The ingredient list as written is as follows (along with my notes for substitutions)

4 eggs, separated (yolks optional)

4 packed cups coarsely grated zucchini

1 cup finely crumbled feta cheese

1/2 c. finely minced scallions

1 tsp. dried mint - I used some fresh parsley instead

a little salt (to taste)

lots of black pepper

1/3 c. flour

oil for frying

sour cream or yogurt for topping

The eggs whites had to be beaten until stiff and then folded in with the rest of the ingredients. The pancakes were light and fluffy and quite good with the sour cream topping. I liked them better than the Zucchini Fritters from my Dishing Up Maryland cookbook (although I never tried the sour cream topping those).

Ricotta Pancakes

 When I saw this on a friend's page recently, I was intrigued:

I have been honing my approach to Deborah Madison's pancake recipe for close to two decades and had dedicated a page on my faculty web site to it before we began this blog. 

Ina Garten's recipe is at first notable for the very forward use of lemon and fig, but her approach is also different in the fundamentals: half of the liquid portion is ricotta and a fifth of the dry portion is corn starch. I was intrigued and decided to give this a try, in part because we had some ricotta on hand. 

The video itself does not provide enough detail to make this recipe work; when I tried to follow links associated with it, I was invited to download an app. Since I do not cook from my phone, I was at a bit of a loss, until the same friend who posted the video sent me the link to the full recipe -- from the app.

In fact, we had most of the ingredients except the figs and lemon on hand, but we had lemon juice. We also did not have buttermilk, but Deborah Madison teaches us that milk with a splash of lemon juice is a good substitute, after being allowed to rest for 10 minutes. Since I never drink buttermilk, I almost never buy it, always using this trick. In this case, I just used more than the usual lemon juice.

In place of figs, I chopped up a couple of small apples we had on hand, scattering them on top of the pancakes as in the video, rather than mixing them in the batter as I usually do. Incidentally, I usually do not peel apples before cooking with them -- it is easier to leave the skin on, and gives them an agreeable texture.

The batter had a distinctive texture -- almost spongy -- and the pancakes were as fluffy as they were delicious. I am glad that I did take time in the afternoon to buy some maple syrup at our local neighborhood farmstand. We had put it off for quite a while, and it was great to have the good stuff for these delicious, breakfast-for-dinner pancakes! 

I rarely find figs in the wild (or supermarket), though I did take care of a fig tree for a rich family in Baltimore during my landscaping days. When I next encounter them (hint to local friends who might know a source), I will revisit this recipe.

Image (complete with figs): Food Network

Zucchini Frittata

 During the Thanksgiving weekend two different friends each gifted us with a dozen eggs. In addition we received our usual 18 eggs with our weekly dairy delivery from Crescent Ridge Farm so we set out to make some egg-based dinners. First up was was our annual post-Thanksgiving sweet potato and turkey hash topped with fried eggs. Last night's recipe for zucchini frittata came from Jane Brody's Good Food Book (which has an entire section devoted to egg-based main courses). I chose this one because I had some shredded zucchini in my freezer from this summer's harvest from my garden. I also had all the other ingredients I needed on hand.

I started by mincing two garlic cloves (also from my garden) and chopping one onion. I sauteéd these in a lot of butter for about a minute in my indispensable cast-iron skillet and then added the thawed and drained zucchini. Next I beat six eggs to which I also added a bit of whipping cream, dried basil (also from my garden) and some shredded parmesan cheese, and added the mixture into the skillet. I cooked over a medium heat until the eggs began to set, at which point I added some more parmesan cheese to the top and moved the skillet to the oven which I set on broil. Once the top was nicely browned and puffy I removed it and let sit for two minutes before serving.

This was easy, flavorful, and had a lot of texture.

Two Thanksgiving desserts

A Covid Thanksgiving

Our usual Thanksgiving tradition involves dinner with friends. Typically three families get together, with occasional additions. Most years we arrive around noon and begin cooking and drinking wine until dinner is ready at 3:00 or 4:00. After our meal we take a walk and then have our dessert - a selection of pies, cakes and other delectables. This year we maintained our tradition with a much scaled-back version. It rained all day on Thursday, so we moved our celebration to Friday when the weather was better and we could eat outside. It was about 60 degrees out - let's hear it for global warming - so it was actually a nice day dining al fresco. Rather than spending the entire day together James showed up at our hosts' home with the turkey in the morning and he and Rob got it started on the grill, then James came back home and prepared the dressing and we went returned at 3:00 with our offerings.  I had planned on making some cranberry sauce but Lisa said they already had three different kinds, so I made two desserts instead. 

Just like the lunch lady used to make

Growing up and attending public school in Baltimore County in the 1970s I usually wasn't thrilled with the hot lunch offered in our cafeteria, and opted instead to bring my lunch. Exceptions to that rule were pizza day and open-faced turkey sandwich day. In the case of the turkey it wasn't so much the main course that I was interested in as the dessert that came with it - "peanut butter confection". 

I've often thought about how much I liked that crumbly, sweet dessert and it seemed this year was a good time to try to find a recipe (and, after all, we were having turkey). On a bag of confectioners sugar I found a recipe for Peanut Butter Fudge that seemed like it might allow me to create reasonable facsimile of what I remembered. It was a simple recipe with only four ingredients (confectioners sugar, milk, marshmallow fluff, and peanut butter) and I did end up with a super sweet '70s treat that was exactly as I remembered.

Is it cake or pie?

My second dessert came from the New York Times cooking page. I told our hosts that I would bring pumpkin pie, but this recipe is called "Pumpkin Skillet Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting" It has no crust, and is made with flour, so it probably is more of a cake than a pie. Nevertheless it was delicious and baked right in our indispensable cast-iron skillet.

This year there were only six of us enjoying our Thanksgiving dinner together. Here's hoping that next year we will be able to return to our usual festivities with everyone in good health.

Old Bay - it's not just for seafood!

Hayes-Boh Joint Dinner Production

James: Pam recently found a recipe -- courtesy of our hometown global spice company -- for Old Bay Roasted Pork Tenderloin. The use of Old Bay in the preparation of crabs is Baltimore gospel, and Marylanders such as my brother apply it liberally to chicken. A quick search of this blog shows how we have employed it in various poultry and seafood dishes.

It seems quite natural to use it on pork, but I don't think I had tried that. I had also not combined it with brown sugar, though I do include brown sugar in many of the spicy rubs I make. 

In this case, I followed the recipe as written, except that I used the Big Green Egg and I attempted to adjust the timing to account for the fact that the cut of pork we get from Crescent Ridge is 3 pounds instead of the 1 pound in the recipe. I extended the time to a bit over an hour, and adding the vegetables after the pork had been cooking for about 10 minutes, rather than the reverse.

This turned out very well, though I could have done better with the timing. The vegetables would have been even better with a bit more time, and the pork would have been more succulent with just a bit less time. 

Pam: It turns out that it was also National Cranberry Relish day. 

We had some whole cranberries that we intended to save for Thanksgiving, but in coordinating with our fellow celebrants I discovered that they had an abundance of cranberries (and cranberry sauce) so it wasn't going to be necessary for me to bring any on Thursday. I offered to make two desserts instead and then set about finding a recipe worthy of National Cranberry Relish day. New York Times Cooking page to the rescue. This simple recipe for Spiked Cranberry Relish was quick, and I had all the ingredients I needed already at our beach house (where we usually have our Sunday dinners). I did make two substitutions:  Triple Sec instead of Grand Mariner and chopped walnuts instead of pecans. 

A delicious and visually pleasing meal all around.

Lagniappe

(by James) Although I have not combined sugar and Old Bay before, I have had it as part of a sweet treat. I was at a table overlooking Baltimore's Inner Harbor -- complete with the Domino's Sugar sign -- at the time. After visiting the remarkable Frederick Douglass maritime museum that is located in his former waterfront workplace, I had a quick bite downstairs at the delightful Ampersea restaurant. By "bite" I mean a sip of whiskey that had been distilled nearby and a dessert that one could only imagine being served in such a location: Old Bay crème brûlée. Highly recommend!

Chicken Tortilla Soup

I don't think I've ever made tortilla soup from scratch before. James and I have occasionally made it from a kit, but in reviewing our shelf of recipe books while looking for a recipe for some chicken breasts I noticed our seldom used The Daily Soup Cookbook where I discovered the tortilla soup recipe. 

Before getting to the recipe, which I only used as a suggestion, it is important for me to discuss our history with tortilla soup. We usually only enjoy this when we eat at Mexican restaurants - something we have not done at all since before the pandemic. Each time we have some of this soup we remince about the first and second times we ever ate it. The first time we couldn't believe our good fortune in finding a restaurant that made such an exquisite soup. The second time we couldn't believe how the soup could have been so thoroughly ruined (too much salt and burned tortillas).

Both times were during our first trip to Mexico in 1989. Both were also at the same restaurant about two weeks apart. 

As I said, I used the recipe only as a guide for what I ultimately made. Which was way better than either the first or second tortilla soups I tried.

I started with making a vegetable broth by simmering some whole peppercorns, whole coriander seeds, chopped onion, garlic, chopped celery, and some canned diced tomatoes in water. Once the stock was made and strained I prepared the soup by frying a chopped onion and three cloves of chopped garlic in Chipotle-infused olive oil (from L.O.V.E. Emporium). I added some dried oregano, fresh cilantro leaves, and some salt, some canned diced tomatoes, six cups of stock, and some fresh lime juice and simmered for 30 minutes. Finally I added the poached and diced chicken breasts. Once everything was cooked I placed broken up commercial tortilla chips into soup bowls and added the soup on top. This was served with shredded cheddar cheese topping and fresh cilantro garnish.

We had enough for leftovers so I made a change to the second-day offering by adding some frozen corn kernels before reheating.

Of course this would have been even better had I included avocado slices when serving, but alas we had none.

FTE Kibbeh

 Note to higher-ed colleagues: by FTE I mean First Time Ever, not Full-time Equivalent

I have seen a few comments recently about food blogs, suggesting (strongly) that bloggers should skip the context-setting stories and go right to the cooking instructions. Regular readers will know that for me there is always a story, and often a complicated one, on the way to the recipe. And often there is a bit of an additional story following the food. For my very first kibbeh, this is going to be even more true than usual.

The story begins long ago and far away, with two friends who operate a restaurant in London and who had lived parallel lives in Jerusalem long before they met. Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi grew up on opposite sides of the Jewish/Palestinian divide in that most divided of cities, yet as adults were connected as friends and professionals by food. For them, the cuisine of Jerusalem is one of connection, not isolation, and so they came to write Jerusalem: A Cookbook, whose simple title belies the richness of its flavors, images, and ... stories.

I know that I learned of the book from an interview on public radio, but I am not sure which one. A quick search of NPR reveals more than a dozen possibilities, mostly on a program (Salt) that is not familiar to me. So I believe it was Yotam Ottolenghi's 2015 discussion of food and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict with Robin Young that got my attention. (Writing paused while I listen again.)

In addition to the Robin Young interview, I recommend the Good Reads review by user Petra-X as an introduction to this popular volume. I also recommend the review by user Carol Smith. As Robin Young mentions, many people have become Jerusalem completists who cook, eat, and/or blog their way through the entire volume. Although Smith has not done that so far, she does include reviews (and photos) of many specific recipes. She has a personal policy of not posting a review of a cookbook until she can post 10 recipe reviews. In the spirit of this Nueva Receta blog, she avers that a cookbook should be removed from the shelf if the owner does not prepare at least 10 dishes from it.

All of this was in the back of my mind last week, when I realized I would have a couple of days without a lot of Zooming scheduled, and that I could reward myself by tackling a new recipe. I thumbed through Jerusalem, looking for only a modest challenge. I found it on page 160 in a recipe for "open kibbeh," described as a very nontraditional variation on kibbeh itself. True to form for Ottolenghi and co-author Sami Tamimi, the recipe is preceded by a full page entitled "The capital of kibbeh" that describes this food as a perfect exemplar of a food that crosses boundaries. I learned that I am far from alone in not knowing what kibbeh actually is -- or in being uncertain about its spelling: kibbeh, kubbbeh, and kobeba are offered as options.

The open kebbeh is a dramatic departure in form, as traditional kibbeh is a deep-fried ball of ground meat, bulgur wheat, and spices, and this was to be a pie made with similar ingredients. The recipe calls for a springform pan, but ours was in the wrong house, and I decided that since the ancient Israelites had no springform pans, I could do without one as well. Of course, they would not have made this as a pie, but still ... I oiled one of our indispensable cast-iron pans and got to work preparing the bottom crust. 

This was the simplest of crusts -- I soaked one cup of fine bulger in one cup of water while I prepared the rest of the dish. I mixed in a little salt, pepper, white flour and water and then pressed this thin dough into the bottom of the pan. Because it was a little wet, I actually put it in the oven (400F) for a few minutes before adding the meat mixture.

The recipe calls for lamb, but I used free-range ground turkey from Vermont that was delivered by our local dairy. I cooked onions, garlic and a hot pepper in olive oil until very soft -- in another indispensable cast-iron skillet, of course -- and then removed them to a bowl so that I could brown the turkey in the same pan. I then returned the aromatics to the pan and added pine nuts, cinnamon, coriander, allspice (except I did not really, because again, wrong house), and cilantro. Once this was nicely melded, I spooned it onto the crust and baked for 20 minutes.

While it was baking, I whisked together tahini paste, water, and lemon juice to make a thin sauce that is a sesame equivalent of almond butter. I had never cooked with tahini sauce, and in fact had done an image search before shopping so that I would have a better chance of finding it at the local grocery -- this proved to be an essential, step, as it was fairly well hidden. I removed the kibbeh from the oven and smoothed the sauce over top. I sprinkled it with more pine nuts and parsley and baked for another 12 minutes. I then turned the heat down to keep the dish warm until Pam was ready to join me for dinner. 

Open Kibbeh

We pronounced the result to be as delicious as it was nutritious. I look forward to cooking more. I was reminded of the excellent food we enjoyed in Jordan while visiting our partner university at Tafila -- well within the realm of Jerusalem's influence -- during our brief 2017 visit. In just a few days, the emphasis on healthy oils, lean meats, and grains had left me feeling as vigorous as our hosts were generous and amiable.

Coincidences 

It turns out that I prepared this dish on a rather ignoble day for the region from which it comes to us. During the last gasps of his term as Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo visited the West Bank with a disruptive mission. He became the highest-ranking U.S. official to visit one of the contentious -- and internationally scorned -- settlement, where he was feted with wine bearing his name on the label, to celebrate his role in providing cover for the illegal occupation of the land from which it was produced.

This visit was in stark contrast with the work my geography students were doing, as they studied the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the lens of The Lemon Tree, a novel based on a true story of friendship across that bitter divide. Although the book was published in 2007 and I started using it in my teaching in 2012 -- when the author visited our campus -- I continue to assign it every semester because at this point in the semester I start to receive the student papers, and invariably some of the students actually thank me for assigning it. In a similar vein, I recommend the story of Assel Street in East Jerusalem.

Lagniappe

I cannot think of kibbeh without thinking of my late friend Khalil, who introduced me to it -- in the Brazilian Amazon of all places. During my first visit to Rondônia in 1996 -- and my only extended stay so far -- I frequently visited his family. His wife was a professor in the Department of Letters that was my academic home, and they lived near the house where I rented a room from one of the other professors. 

Our visits involved learning to dance with the three generations of fabulous dancers in that family, and learning about food from Khalil. He did not dance, but he cooked. He had come to Brazil from Lebanon in a prior generation, and was a sometime Middle Eastern grocer. He delighted in making me kibbe (see - yet another spelling) and other dishes from the Levant; and he knew that inviting me to prepare food would be a way for me not just to return the favor, but to share something of myself. I still remember the discussion as we planned a dinner of spaghetti and chicken -- which ultimately made me a minor celebrity for a while. I had not yet cooked or been to a proper grocery store, and had no idea what I would be able to find. One by one, I asked about ingredients I had not seen anybody use during my stay. In answer to each one, he would nod solemnly and proclaim, "têm" -- "they have it" -- stretching the short word to almost three syllables. 

At Casa Hayes-Boh, that is how we declare the availability of ingredients to this day: têm!

Lemony Chicken with Extra Lemon

PROGRAM NOTE: This will be the 601st post on Nueva Receta, which has had 123,083 views as of this writing.  Thanks to everyone for joining us in the ongoing adventure of cooking at home! And if you have not already done so, please read the origin story of this blog, in honor of the late Dr. Bob Phillips.

I picked up some extra chicken during the weekly grocery run. Even though Pam was making chilaquiles on Tuesday, I decided that it would give me a good possibility for a nueva receta later in the week. I checked only one book -- Dishing Up Maryland -- but I did not find anything I had not already tried that would not require returning to the grocery store. (We're still on Covid-19 precautions, so I really try to limit grocery shopping to once per week.)

Being too lazy to return to the cookbook cupboard, I turned to the New York Times, where I found Lemon Chicken by Paul Mones. The byline mentions that it is adapted from a recipe by Nicole Mones, suggesting that this is another couple that cooks and writes together.

Speaking of cooking together, Pamela noticed that yesterday was National Men Make Dinner Day, one of those concepts that sounds egalitarian and sexist and heteronormative all at the same time. The web supports our misgivings by using a Mad Men-era icon of a man sipping coffee as part of the page banner. We decided to play along anyway; I even put on an apron for photographic evidence that I know how to use a kitchen.

I followed the recipe mostly as written, but using our indispensable cast-iron skillet since we gave away our wok between grad-school moves decades ago. 

One departure from the recipe is that I used regular wheat flour instead of potato flour for two reasons: first, to avoid returning to the grocery store and second, because the reader comments below the recipe exhibited a lot of disagreement about how the flour was to be used, or whether its use is intended at all -- with something called potato starch offered as an alternative by one reader.

I am not sure how potato flour would have been different, but the egg-flour mix was essentially paste, even after I added about a half cup of milk to it. This was very different from any egg bath I have used before, but I do think that it worked well. Readers of the recipe will note that the chicken itself calls for no lemon -- it appears only in the sauce, which is essentially a lemonade reduced with cornstarch. 

As a lover of all things lemon, I decided the recipe could use an enhancement: lemon-infused olive oil that we recently received from our friends at L.O.V.E. in Frederick, Maryland. I also used the oil in preparing brown rice as a side.

The result was delicious comfort food during an angst-ridden election week in which comfort was sorely needed.

This is a photo of what mine did not look like:

Photo: Dwight Eschliman NYT with Food Stylist Kevin Crafts

Halibut with Ginger-Raisin Crust

 

We rarely use our For Cod and Country cookbook but it looks like we are starting to turn that around. This is the second post this week from this big book, which has a lot more to it than recipes. The introduction to the recipe in the book starts with "I love raisins with fish-they have the perfect balance of sweet and acid...". It reminded me of a conversation I had with my mother in March just after we all went on lockdown. She was going through her pantry and refrigerator and discovered some raisin English muffins and some salmon cakes and decided to make a sandwich. She was surprised how good they tasted together. We discovered the same thing when I prepared this recipe. 

I chopped 1/4 c. raisins and mixed with 3 T panko bread crumbs, 2 T melted butter, some freshly grated ginger, 2 t mace, and the zest of one orange to form a paste.

The paste was pressed into the halibut which was cooked (breading side down) in our indispensable cast-iron skillet for four minutes. The skillet was then placed into the preheated 300 degree oven and baked for 20 minutes. Once it was cooked through we flipped the fish over and served. It came out light and flaky. We served this with the leftover tarragon rice from James' offering the night before.

Tarragon, Seafood Paragon

 

Photo from Tarragon, King of Herbs
(by someone even more impressed by this herb than I am)

When thinking of seafood options for the weekend (and into Monday, it turns out), I decided to go to Kyler's Catch with some specific recipes in mind. The fish there is always so good that it is easy to do what is easiest -- very simple preparations that foreground the fish (or shellfish) itself.

But in the spirit of Nueva Receta, I sat down with For Cod and Country, which we have cited just a couple times since purchasing it for our seaside weekend house a few years ago. I remember learning of the book on public radio, but I do not think it was as long ago as author Barton Seaver's 2011 interview with Leann Hanson. The book is a paradox: a chef who is deeply concerned about the overharvesting of fish endeavors to teach us to enjoy fish sparingly -- avoiding some imperiled species altogether, and getting the most out of the fish we do use by maximizing both flavor and land-based ingredients.

Many of the recipes appear more ambitious than I was feeling this weekend, but I did find two that seemed to meet the effort-outcome balance I was hoping for. One is a grilled salmon with tarragon butter; the other is a crusty halibut preparation that Pam will be making tomorrow.

The salmon recipe is unusually simple for this book -- it is one of those recipes whose title conveys almost the entire story. I softened butter, and mashed it together with finely chopped tarragon and orange zest, along with black pepper and a small amount of salt. Seaver suggests grilling the salmon (skin on) over high heat to get good grill marks, and then to transfer it to a cooler area of the fire. All I could picture was losing half the salmon through the grill grates, and the Big Green Egg provides only very uniform heat. So I opted to heat the grill to 400 and simply bake the salmon -- I actually used milder Arctic char -- on the griddle inset. Once this was cooked through -- about 12 minutes -- I transferred it to a plate and dabbed the butter mix on it. The result was simply scrumptious.

Meanwhile, I had cooked some brown rice, mixing a bit of the tarragon butter into it partway through the cooking process. This was a delicious accompaniment. Author Seaver suggests that tarragon is a perfect pairing for many fish; I expect to be testing that theory!

Orange Chicken with Vegetables

We can get a lot of things besides milk in our weekly delivery from Crescent Ridge Dairy, including meat. Since the pandemic started, however, we've found that it is harder to get some things than it used to be, especially poultry products, so we were glad to see that there was pound of organic chicken breasts available this week. James seemed a little skeptical that we could do much with a pound, but I knew better. I went right to the New York Times Cooking Page and found this recipe that calls for "1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breast, preferably from a small producer of free range chickens..."

This recipe is labeled "One Pot" on the NYTimes page, which is true as far as the cooking goes - everything was cooked together in my indispensable cast-iron skillet. However, I needed two separate bowls to mix different sets of ingredients in before adding them to the skillet. The recipe also says it takes 10 minutes. Again, that is only true for the cooking part. As long as you have sous-chef to do all the chopping and dicing for you it is indeed a quick and easy dish. To be fair this wasn't difficult, and I was ready to serve within 30 minutes of starting. And it was delicious.

Buckeyes

 

Last year when I cleaned out my refrigerators (one at my primary residence, and the other at our beach house) I found one partially-used, expired jar of peanut butter in each. We'd already been empty nesters for a few years and this one-time staple in our household had apparently become superfluous. Our only child came to visit for a few weeks over the summer and requested that we purchase a jar. Unlike some of his other food requests he actually ate some of the peanut butter, but there was still quite a bit remaining after he left. I decided not to wait until this jar expired and instead went looking for a recipe to use it up. I found this recipe for Peanut Butter Balls on the New York Times Cooking page.

These were easy to make. The only "cooking" involved was melting the semi-sweet chocolate chips in the microwave.  A super-sweet, fun treat.

National Lobster Quesadilla Day

What is today all about?

Part of librarian Pam's daily routine is to check the National Day web site to see what is being recognized each day. She was always a fan of these things, but has certainly followed them more closely during the pandemic. 

Careful readers might have noticed some resulting recipes; careful readers would have noticed even more if I had not fallen down on the blogging job. 

We both continue to innovate in our cooking, but the queue of unblogged recipes is indeed growing. This was so good and so easy, though, that I had no excuse to put off writing about it.

Key ingredients

Early this morning, as we sipped home-roasted coffee from Rwanda, Pam mentioned the happy coincidence of National Quesadilla Day and National Lobster Day. This seemed almost like a command from the Fates to the Hayes-Bohanans.

I simply googled the combination and found this simple recipe at Chop Happy (a site I had not previously known). Simplicity was called for because this was to be a weeknight dinner at the end of another tiring Covid-19 week. More importantly as I have gradually gained confidence in cooking seafood, I have followed an unwritten rule: the more expensive the ingredient, the simpler the recipe should be.

So the simple recipe was very appealing. I got some excellent lobster tails from our favorite fishmonger -- Kyler's Catch in New Bedford (yes, the seafood capital of North America), and chopped them into chunks of about 3/4 inch. I then chopped some scallions (in the recipe) and cilantro (in our fridge, so why not?) and tossed them gently in a bowl. 

Notice my use of the quantity "some" -- I must admit I did not even look at the recipe after my morning coffee. 

I melted butter over low heat (I have never used butter or low heat for quesadillas before) while shredding an entire package of Cabot's pepper-jack cheese (from the farmer-owned cooperative in Vermont). I then assembled the quesadillas and put them in the pan side-by-side, turning the heat to medium-high. I treated them much more gingerly than usual -- in part to make sure lobster did not fall out in the process.

The result? We both pronounce these the best quesadillas we have ever had, and we have had a few. (Like a few thousand, probably). This paired beautifully with our complex, fruity, and bold home-vinted Malbec.

We are also aware that these were by far the most expensive quesadillas we have ever made. But they are not the most expensive we have bought. Cooking at home saves money, but for a special occasion, it can mean that "splurging" for the best ingredients brings the price of an extraordinary meal up to the cost of a mediocre meal at a mid-range restaurant. We know we are lucky to be able to do this from time to time.

Lagniappe

We usually have lobster dinner with friends on Christmas Eve. In 2020, in the depths of the pandemic and before any of us could be vaccinated, we could not do it. So our gift to these friends was lobster quesadilla kits so we could feast together by zoom. 

Apple Cake

 

Last spring the Bridgewaters' One Book One Community Read was Thanks A Thousand by A.J. Jacobs. This memoir recounts the author's attempts to thank everyone who brought him his daily cup of coffee beginning with the barista at his local coffee shop and ending with a trip to South America to thank the farmers. Ultimately he thanks about a thousand people, while realizing he didn't even get to everyone. 

As a children's selection along the same theme we found Dawn Casey's Apple Cake which features a young child thanking all the people, plants, and animals who provide the ingredients to make Apple Cake. A recipe is included in the book, so in honor of the start of fall I made it. I made my own almond flour by grinding almond slivers in the blender. The cake is dense and not too sweet although it has 3 cups of honey.

Peach Blueberry Cobbler

 

I love the late summer when peaches and blueberries are in abundance, and I love that these two flavors taste so good together. I was able to get fresh peaches and blueberries at the farmer's market last week and used them to make a fruit cobbler. 

Before I get into the recipe though I must offer this explanation about the differences between a cobbler, a crumble, and a crisp: a cobbler has a biscuit topping; a crumble has a topping of butter and sugar; and a crisp has a topping with butter, sugar, and oats. Additionally we have buckles and Bettys. Buckles have the topping and fruit baked together (causing them to buckle); Bettys (like crumbles) have no oats, but the fruit and crumble are layered (source The Farmer's Almanac) 

And now, back to our recipe. I got this one from the New York Times Cooking Page. It calls for hazelnut flour which I did not have, but I did have some almond flour in the cupboard which I was able to substitute effectively. Otherwise I followed the recipe as written. James whipped some cream for us as a topping. A lovely dessert to complement our pasta dinner made with fresh pesto. So much goodness from the garden.

Cú Chulainn Pasta

Basil, garlic, and squash fresh from the garden!

Saturday was Lammas, a celebration of the late summer harvest. On Sunday and Monday I harvested garlic from my garden and then I got out my trusty Wicca Cookbook and found a recipe that in addition to the garlic used two other ingredients that I could get from my own backyard - yellow squash and basil. This also called for some other ingredients (some additional herbs, as well as carrots and zucchini) that I did not have, and so I simply did without. Nevertheless, this was a delicious, light meal for a summer's eve. I started by mincing and sautéing the garlic in lemon-infused olive oil and butter while I cooked the spaghetti. I sliced the squash very thin and added it to the skillet. Once the pasta was cooked I drained it and added it to the skillet as well, along with minced basil leaves. I let everything cook for a few minutes while I gently stirred. I served this directly onto plates, topped with parmesan cheese, and added a sprig of basil to garnish. Pleasing to the eye and the palate. 

Red Beans and Rice

I decided to make red beans and rice when I realized we had quite a few cans of kidney beans in the pantry. I turned to trusty Deborah Madison for a recipe. Of course her recipe called for dry beans with overnight soaking which wasn't necessary with canned beans, so I did my best to adapt the recipe using the canned beans. It was good news that we had the rest of the ingredients on hand (or some reasonable substitution) since our grocery store trip wasn't scheduled until the day after I made this.

I started by dicing a small onion, one garlic clove, a stalk of celery and the rest of a red bell pepper that I had used in a recipe last week. I sauteéd the vegetables in Chipotle Olive Oil. Once the veggies were soft I added some bay leaves, thyme, oregano, parsley, and some salt and pepper. I let it all cook on low for about 20 minutes and then added the beans and then cooked for another 7 minutes.

Meanwhile I cooked the rice, which turned out to be a bigger project than it should have been. I left the heat on too high and the water evaporated before the rice fully cooked, so I added some more water and turned the heat down, and then I had to do it again, and again, and again. Some to the individual rice grains had burned to the bottom of the pan, but we just scraped them off added them to the rest and called it cajun.

Creamsicle Dreamsicle

And is that with a Y or an I? So many questions, but they are not important once we have this in front of us, to start the birthday weekend festivities.

For those playing along at home, yes: the second full month of social distancing has included a birthday, and anniversary, and another birthday. Numbers adding up to, well, a number.

Pam found this delish recipe on delish, instigating a little panic when we realized we had not done anything about our lack of Triple Sec (I've somehow been making waffles without it).

We gathered the ingredients this week -- using appropriate Covid-19 protocols, strictly enforced. And I followed the recipe exactly, using one-half of each ingredient to provide a moderate serving for each of us. Minor chores and further celebrating are on the agenda, after all!

This was very easy and as delicious as it sounds.

Yet another frittata

On one of his early pandemic shopping trips James brought back a big tub full of fresh baby spinach expecting that we would find some uses for it. He was right, and it has since become a staple of his biweekly grocery runs. We have not only been looking for recipes in which to use it, but have also started putting it by the handful on our sandwiches in lieu of lettuce.

I originally found the recipe for this frittata from Food52 on a listicle from Huffington Post called "The Only 40 Egg Recipes you'll ever need" (I have prepared some of the others which you can find here).  The frittata called for chorizo but I just used regular sausage because it was what we had. I used canned chickpeas, and didn't roast the red pepper (even though James actually kind of likes to do that). I sautéed the pepper instead along with the onions and garlic.

The meal was quick, relatively easy, filling and delicious.

Cod Cakes - NYT

Today's linner began with what looks like an extremely austere soup. I put about one inch of water in a pan and brought it to boil with two bay leaves (because one seemed a very sad start), a squirt of lemon juice and several glugs of Tabasco. These were Coronavirus-related substitutions for the 1/8 of a lemon and 4 peppercorns called for. It sounds more like a scene from Grimm's Fairy Tales than the start of decadent recipe from New York Times Cooking, but this is how Sam Sifton begins his recipe with the equally austere title Cod Cakes. 

Of course, this recipe is not really austere at all; rather, it is subtle. Sifton calls for poaching cod (or other white fish) in this most subtle of broths so that the flavor of the cod itself prevails.

At this point, I should back up and explain how I ended up poaching cod on this lovely afternoon. It started about a week ago, when our friend Andrea posted photos of cod cakes she was preparing with a family recipe. Since she is from New Bedford, where these things are decided, we took notice. We  had everything needed for Cod Cakes a la Andrea, except for the salted cod, which she has been able to get at our favorite (really only) fishmonger -- place with customers in the front and boats in the back. The place is always sparkling clean, and has taken extraordinary public-health measures in the current pandemic, so I was comfortable heading over there yesterday afternoon. Alas! No salted cod was on hand. Andrea had suggested some alternate sources, but I decided to save those for another day; there must be a way to make cod cakes from fresh cod.

So I bought some VERY fresh cod and headed home to find a recipe. I pulled with the hefty volume Of Cod and Country from the cookbook cabinet, only to be reminded that author Barton Seaver is concerned mainly with reducing the use of cod, so his book is good for many things other than cooking cod. Turning to the interwebs, I of course landed on New York Times Cooking, and the fairly straightforward recipe I began describing above.

Once the fish was cooked through (that is, opaquely white), I removed it carefully to a plate to cool. I then minced onion and garlic (we lacked celery, so I added celery seed at a later stage). As I sauteed the aromatics, I crushed some croutons we had on hand, to substitute for the crackers or panko crumbs. I used a potato masher and a pastry cutter, alternating these ill-matched tools until I had something like bread crumbs.

I then placed the vegetables in a large bowl, while in a small bowl I mixed the eggs, mayo, mustard and Old Bay (some lesser seasonings are mentioned, but Old Bay is something we are never out of). All of this got mixed in a large bowl, along with the crumbs. Then I flaked the cod into the mix, preserving the structure as Sifton suggests. This became kind of a mushy mess, but I gathered it into balls as he indicates and managed to form some patties. I then followed his crucial advice of chilling these thoroughly. I can imagine they would not have held together had I tried to cook them right away. After more than an hour, I heated olive oil (we have no "neutral" oil like canola on hand) and cooked these up, covering one side in additional Old Bay for good measure. 

I cooked these until quite crispy, and we enjoyed them with some leftover vegetarian lasagna roll-ups that Pam had made yesterday. Regular readers will understandably assume that we opened some Malbec for the occasion, but Pam suggested something a bit lighter that worked out very nicely: Farmer's Fizz from our friends at Westport Rivers.

We thank Andrea for starting us on the path of making cod cakes at home for the first time, and we look forward to trying her recipe next time!

Lagniappe 

This very legitimate cod purchase took place a few feet away from the dock where the feds continue to impound a remnant of the fleet of the infamous Cod Father.

Do the crime and your boats will do the time.

Anniversary Dinner

I suggested to James that perhaps as a treat for our 33rd anniversary we could place an order for carry out or delivery since we had not taken advantage of either of those options during our eight weeks of pandemic stay-at-home orders.He pointed out that we would likely be disappointed in anything that we would be able to get here on the south shore of Massachusetts, and we'd be lucky if it were even served at the proper temperature. I had to concede on all points. So instead we decided to prepare some dishes that we knew we liked.

James made a trip to our favorite fishmonger Kyler's Catch and picked up a salmon filet from which I prepared salmon with blueberry sauce based on this recipe from The New York Times. I used blueberry vinegar from L.O.V. E. (our favorite oil and vinegar emporium) instead of white wine vinegar. I prepared rice with lemon and almonds as a side dish.

This paired perfectly with the Peach Bellini we've been waiting to enjoy

For dessert I reprised the sensual Grapes Rolled in Almonds and Ginger from our Intercourses Cookbook.

Both of these have been featured on this blog before. The salmon is from earlier this year and the grapes from this July 2013 post.

As Goddess is my witness I will never buy granola again!

Well, I can't believe it took a pandemic for me to make this simplest of recipes. I frankly was always in awe of people who made their own granola (or granilla as it is called in our house) but now I know my fascination was unwarranted. I don't know why I expected this would be some big kitchen-based project. We ran out of our store-bought granola this morning, so I did have some motivation to get on with this but honestly, it was so easy I'm embarrassed that I never made this myself before. It took less than 30 minutes to gather the ingredients (all of which were already in my pantry), mix them, and bake. I used this recipe from Cookie and Kate which calls for oats, sea salt, coconut or olive oil, nuts and/or seeds, cinnamon, maple syrup or honey, vanilla extract and optional fruits or chocolate chips. I opted out of the last two, used honey rather than maple syrup, and used chopped walnuts. I also used the last of our blood-orange infused olive oil from L.O.V.E.  Good thing they have shipping to anywhere in the U.S. This is super tasty, and not too sweet. I think next time I will use a higher ratio of nuts though.

This can easily be made vegan by using maple syrup rather than honey.

Birthday Cake

May is usually a time of celebrations for us. Both of our birthdays and our wedding anniversary fall in this merry month. While we don't typically have big parties for any of these events, we do generally have a few friends over for a nice dinner and some cake. We understood that for the greater good even our low-key celebrations would have to be toned down this year, so yesterday James' birthday was recognized with a favorite dinner and a small birthday cake for just the two of us. I made what our family refers to as "The Best Chicken in the World" - so named by our only child many years ago. The recipe comes from a small plastic spiral-bound cookbook that I got as a thank-you gift for doing a slide-presentation about Puebla, Mexico to a group in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas about 25 years ago. We blogged about this recipe 6 years ago. You can find the post here.

The "nueva receta" part of this post comes from the infrequently used Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook which has nice divider tabs like we used to use in our loose-leaf binders.

I found the tab for "Cakes" and selected "Busy-Day Cake", although yesterday wasn't so much a busy day, as a we- have-all-the-ingredients-for-this-and-we-ain't-going-to-the-store-day.

The only change I made to this was that I used a 9-inch round cake pan instead of a 9-inch square pan. We apparently do not own the requisite square sized pan.

I also made cream-cheese frosting from the same cookbook, under the same tab.

I should also point out that both of these recipes call for the use of an electric mixer. We still don't own one, so the cake and the frosting were mixed using the energy from my arms. 

For a final festive touch I added some multi-colored sprinkles I found in the cabinet. There were no candles though.

A perfect cake for two people. We also still had some ginger ice cream in the freezer which tasted divine with this otherwise basic cake.

Simple recipes from a classic cookbook.

And now, a rant.

When we moved into our house 18 years ago all the houses on our street were occupied by either single people, couples, or families. Now we live between two student rentals. The level of aggravation in dealing with this changes from year-to-year as new students come and go. As it turned out one of our next-door neighbors also had a birthday yesterday and decided to have a biggish party in the backyard complete with ignoring of social-distancing guidelines, loud music, and no masks. They did provide paper party hats to their guests though. The party went on for hours. Police were called. You'd think a house that had a drug bust not so long ago would try to keep a low profile, but you'd be wrong.

Pairing Malbec

Frequent readers of this blog will notice that the end of many entries contains a note about wine pairings. We learned the potential of good pairing from What to Drink with What You Eat by Dornenburg and Karen Page before we started this blog. The right wine really can make food more enjoyable, and the same can be true of coffee, beer, and other beverages. We also learned that the color of a wine is far from the most important characteristic when making a pairing.

Careful readers will notice that we often cite a Mendoza Malbec as the perfect pairing. This is somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but Malbec from the Argentine region of Mendoza is so good that we are confident pairing it with almost all foods. The Malbecs vary a bit from each other (during our Mendoza visit we learned that over 250 vineyards produce that grape varietal in that small region, each with its own cultivation and vinting nuances). But they all have in common a complexity that allows for many different flavors to be brought out. And the wine is good enough on its own that a second glass after dinner will always be enjoyable.

Broquel

"Which Malbec?" one might ask. We have enjoyed dozens of different Malbecs, and all of them from Argentina or Chile have been splendid. We often buy Trapiche, which comes in several different preparations. It is one of the biggest vineyards, but we like it anyway. We recently had the Broquel, and found it to be extraordinary.

One time I (James) was in a restaurant where the only Malbec on the menu was from France. I had read that although the varietal was developed in France, its perfect expression was found only in the high deserts of the Andes, and this glass proved it. "Muddy" is the term sometimes used, and I concur.

The cartoon above is almost true, but we have not yet become quite that ridiculous. I write this one day after having made a special trip to our favorite local vineyard -- Westport Rivers, whose varied offerings we do enjoy year round -- and in fact enjoyed a Westport Dry Riesling with this evening's dinner.

Lagniappe

From Dornenburg and Page we learned something valuable about wine serving temperature: avoid the extremes: the rule of fifteen. A wine that is being kept in the fridge should be removed about 15 minutes before serving; a wine stored at room temperature should go into the fridge for about 15 minutes prior. When we remember either of these tricks, we are glad we did.

Chicken Pot Pie Express

I grew up in the 1970s in the outer Virginia suburbs of DC, also known as the northernmost part of the South. For us, the result was that we had had chicken pot pie quite frequently, in the form of those little round Swanson frozen pies. Later we graduated to the bigger, oblong Hungry Man versions.  That was the 1970s part of the experience; the Southern part was that a couple times a year my mother would make a real chicken pot pie in a big casserole dish.

Spoiler alert: I made the big kind.

Turning to our cookbook shelf for guidance, I rightly surmised from its title that Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook by Martha Hall Foose would offer authentic direction.

Screen Doors &Sweet Tea

My first departure from the recipe was that I used boneless, skinless chicken we had on hand. During our extended social distancing, we are limiting food purchases to our weekly dairy delivery and a grocery run every 10 days. So we had chicken in the freezer that I decided to use, though we planned this meal to be prepared right after a grocery run, so that I could get the appropriate vegetables. For these, I did make a few substitutions.

Generally speaking, I doubled most of the quantities in Foose's recipe, which is intended for two small, round pies with double crusts. I did call my mother to confirm that her casserole-sized pies do not have a bottom crust. I made a simple crust with the recipe from a Crisco can because, honestly, I was feeling lazy with respect to the cold-butter approach. So I made the crust first and left it on the counter between two sheets of parchment before starting the filling.

This began with bringing a full quart of broth (probably a bit more than was needed) in a large pot and adding chopped celery, carrot, potato, and shallot (in lieu of the called-for pearl onions). I then added the chicken and boiled, covered for 20 minutes. I then removed the chicken, and poured the broth and vegetables through a strainer, retaining both.

I put the vegetables in the same bowl with the chicken, and added frozen peas and corn. I let these rest on the counter while I returned my attention to the original pot. Here I melted butter over low heat, whisked in flour and some spices (Foose calls for poultry seasoning; I used something we had on hand called "Cajun seasoning" -- anything mildly savory would be fine).  Once this was making a nice roux, I gently whisked in the broth and light cream, simmering uncovered until the broth was reduced by half. I then returned the chicken and vegetables to the pan and blended thoroughly while reheating.

I then spread the mixture into a casserole dish -- it was a perfect consistency; reducing the broth had been essential. I then sprinkled dried thyme over the entire pan before retrieving the crust from the countertop. Here is where I noticed two problems: first, I should have used cold butter, or at least chilled the shortening. I also should have made the crust while making the filling or put it in the refrigerator during the hour or more it took me to make the filling. Even though this was not a particularly warm day, the crust was a bit too sticky and difficult to handle.

I managed to get it spread onto the dish. I then brushed some cream over the crust and cut a few vents in it for steam to escape. I then baked it for close to an hour -- not the 20-30 minutes called for in the recipe. I have no idea why -- perhaps I should have read the Crisco recipe more carefully.

Nonetheless, the result was delicious and I will not let another 57 years pass before making it again!

Not all the steam escaped in the oven!

Notes: I actually simplified some of the steps to reduce dishes -- Foose calls for two different saucepans to be used. However it is done, this is a recipe that should start with all dishes and counters clean and dishwater (if available) empty, because it makes a bit of a mess!

More importantly, both the recipe and my mother call for bone-in chicken. In fact, my mother boils that chicken ahead of everything else, making her own broth. I will certainly do the same next time -- that will be the non-express version of this recipe. My mother also reports trying this once with a rotisserie chicken. She does not recommend that -- it saves cooking time, but the spices are all wrong.

Greek Spinach Frittata

During our pandemic lockdown we've been buying more eggs than usual and having at least one egg-based dinner each week. Seven weeks in we have not yet used any delivery or curb-side pickup for food. We've only prepared meals at home with food purchased from infrequent trips to the grocery store, and our usual weekly Crescent Ridge Farms delivery.

About two weeks ago I made an old family favorite comfort dinner - mashed potato casserole (baked mashed potatoes and cooked spinach topped with cheddar cheese). I did not use all of the spinach James bought, so I found the frittata recipe in an old family favorite cookbook - Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home. Its use of eggs and spinach cinched the dinner plan. In addition to these two ingredients this recipe also calls for one sliced onion, one sliced potato, and feta cheese. I also added some crushed garlic. The onion and potato went into the skillet first, followed by the garlic, and then the spinach, which did not take long to wilt. Eggs went in next and as they started to set the feta to sprinkled on top. I covered the skillet and turned the heat down a bit for a few minutes, then uncovered and placed under the broiler for two minutes to brown the top.

A satisfying meal for two.