and curiously – Page 9

Spring Skillet Frittata and Cumin-Roasted Vegetable Salad

Here are things that I suspect might be written about “weeknight dinners” in legitimate cookbooks:

family-friendly
quick and/or easy to prepare
reheat well, or become good leftovers
moderately virtuous

Here are the things I care about when considering “weeknight dinners”

creating minimal dirty dishes

But actually. I’m only kind of kidding. I care about the other stuff, too, but mostly when I’m cooking, especially in a time pinch, I just think about how many dirty dishes I’m creating. I hate washing dishes, you guys. Often, my roommate does the bulk of them, since I do the bulk of the cooking, which is pretty much a dream arrangement for me, but still. Less dirty dishes equals more better, right?

That, combined with my serious fear of wasting food, probably govern all of my kitchen decisions. It’s a crazy place in here, you guys.

Today, I’ve got versions of two weeknight standbys for me, that, you guessed it, create minimal dishes. One’s a frittata where you cook the veggies and then bake the eggs in the same skillet, and the other, simple roasted vegetables. These are more template recipes, so ingredient-wise, so you could toss in whatever’s seen better days from your veggie drawer. I served them with pesto because I impulse buy basil whenever it’s a good price, so I had 3 bunches in my refrigerator. I’m a herb hoarder, you guys.

Spring Skillet Frittata

1 to 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 onion
15 (or so) asparagus spears
2 cups of spinach or other hearty green
4 eggs
(optional) splash of milk
(optional) small handful of cheese – Parmesan or feta are both great here
salt and pepper to taste
(optional) small handful minced green herbs (scallion, cilantro, parsley, basil, etc)

If you’re using the oven for something else, that’s great — this recipe works better if the oven’s a little warm to start with. If you aren’t, I suggest turning the broiler on about midway through your prep, so the oven has a chance to heat up a bit before you finish the frittata using the broiler.

Heat up the vegetable oil on medium high in a cast iron skillet.

Thinly slice the onion into half moons, then add to the skillet. Cook on medium for 20 minutes until they are caramelized, adding water as needed when the pan dries out. (If you’re in a rush, no need to caramelize — just cook until they are translucent and done.)

While the onion cooks, slice or break off the tough bottoms of the asparagus. Cut on a bias, making 3 or 4 pieces from each spear.

Crack the eggs, milk (if using), and a bit of salt and pepper into a large bowl, whisking to combine and beat the eggs.

Add the asparagus and spinach/greens to the pan, stirring often, for a few minutes, until the vegetables are cooked.

While the pan’s hot, pour the eggs over the vegetables. If using, sprinkle cheese evenly over the top of the frittata. Since the pan is hot, the eggs will begin cooking immediately from the bottom.

With the broiler having already been on high for a few minutes, place the pan on the top rack, right under the heat. Remove either when the eggs are just set (after just 3 minutes or so) or when the cheese is browned (5 to 10 minutes, depending on your broiler), whichever you prefer.

Top with your minced green herb and serve immediately.

Cumin-Roasted Vegetable Salad

1 tablespoon olive oil
3 medium beets
3 carrots
2 cups green beans
2 tablespoons cumin
1 teaspoon paprika
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 bunch parsley

Preheat oven to 375˚F.

Carefully clean beets, then wrap them each in foil. Place the beets on a cookie sheet (they often drip) and place in the oven, roasting until you can easily pierce them with a knife. Roasting time varies widely based on beet size, but I’d say at least 30 minutes, often closer to an hour, until they are done.

When the beets are done, take them out and let them cool slightly. Once you can safely handle them, unwrap the aluminum foil. Use paper towels to wipe the skin off (should remove easily), then slice into bite-size pieces.

While the beets are roasting, slice the carrots into “baby carrot” sized pieces. Clean and trim the ends off of the green beans.

Drizzle oil on a lined (either with parchment or a silicon mat) cookie sheet. Arrange carrots and green beans, then sprinkle on cumin, paprika, salt, and pepper. Bake in oven until the carrots are soft, about 30 minutes. The green beans should be done by then, too.

Toss the vegetables together with parsley and serve warm.

Spiced Stuffed Mushrooms

Mushrooms, you guys. We should talk about them. They are a “challenge” food of mine, which makes me feel like a bad food and vegetable enthusiast because everyone seems to lose their minds over fragrant truffles and earthy shiitakes, but I just am not quite there. I’ve got to stick to the ones milder in flavor, because I’m kind of a mushroom wimp. Sorry. I feel like next I’m going to reveal that I like iceberg lettuce best of all. (I don’t.) But I do like button mushrooms. (Chanterelles and oysters, I also like; I’m not totally insane.)

Anyways, nothing like eating only hors d’oeuvres as a meal to get over a mild food aversion. We can all agree, at least, that at restaurants, appetizers are the best part, right? (And can we also agree that nobody can spell “hors d’oeuvres” on the first try?) Stuffed mushrooms feel like party food to me — you know, the type of thing that gets whisked around at a social event, where you’re tempted to just follow the food around but you have to stand around and interact with humans, instead. Or maybe that’s just me.

I suppose if you were not making your way through a slightly-ill-advised purchase of a Costco-sized container of mushrooms by your lukewarm-on-mushrooms self, you could make these as a starter. But I won’t lie, I ate all of them by myself as a meal. And it was good. I put Indian-inspired spices for flavah and tofu for nutrition in them because I can’t leave well enough alone. Sorry, guys. We are who we are.

Spiced Stuffed mushrooms
6 white mushrooms / button mushrooms
approx. 2 oz tofu (firm tofu slice 1/2 to 1 inch thick)
1/2 small onion
1 or 2 cloves of garlic
small slice of ginger
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 cups spinach
juice from 1/2 lemon
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon coriander
1/4 teaspoon cardamom
1/4 teaspoon paprika
generous pinch of crushed red pepper
a few sprigs of parsley or cilantro
salt & pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375˚F.

Wrap the tofu slice in a paper towel and place under something with weight, like a cast iron pan, allowing some of the liquid to drain out.

Gently wash mushrooms, either by carefully rinsing or wiping off with a wet paper towel. Carefully remove the stems, discarding any dried out parts but reserving as much as possible. Set aside the caps and let them dry. Finely chop the reserved stems.

Dice the onion and mince the garlic and ginger, while you’re at it.

Heat up the oil in a pan (you can use the same cast iron pan that was pressing the tofu). Fry the onion, garlic, and ginger until the onion is translucent. Add the mushroom stems and continue to fry until they start to squeak. Add the spinach, and fry for another minute until it begins to wilt. Add lemon juice, spices, and salt and pepper to taste, continuing to stir and turn.

Crumble the tofu into the pan and stir, allowing spinach to continue to release liquid and tofu to soak up seasoning. Taste, and adjust seasoning as needed.

Spoon and pile filling into mushroom caps. Place on a lined baking sheet and bake until the mushroom caps are cooked and the filling has crisped up and browned a bit on top, between 20 and 30 minutes for me. Garnish with chopped herbs and another dash of paprika, if you like.

I ran a 5k.

You guys. I don’t know what’s happening, either. Nobody is more surprised than me, but last month, I ran a little race that happens in my hometown, purely voluntarily. If you had told teenaged me that I would specifically wake up early and run around some suburban streets for a few miles with other crazies doing the exact same thing, and pay for the privilege, I would have laughed in your face. I mean, I actually wouldn’t have, because I was even more terrified of confrontation as a teenager, but I would have been laughing on the inside while looking shell-shocked on the outside.

Anyways, I digress. I ran a 5k, and it took me a pretty long time, but I wasn’t expecting to be among the fastest or anything. The entire experience was fairly surreal, in part because it just seemed so wildly out of character for me, but there are a few salient memories I have.

First, I’m sorry, but I just need to discuss how preoccupied I was about going to the bathroom during this entire thing. Of course I was going to take all of my generalized anxiety about the entire situation and fixate on one small thing, and of course I chose, you know, poop. I learned while “training” for this race that, well, running around seems to make you want to poop. It’s weird and inconvenient, as you might imagine. Apparently this is sort of A Thing in the running community (is that a community in which I am member now? what is this life?), which I didn’t know previously. Anyways, I realize that every other post on this thing is about food, so I won’t fixate on the details, but, I was seriously concerned that I’d need to make a pit stop mid-race and just mess up my whole flow. My strange anxiety got to the point where I actually asked a runner friend of mine, cringing the whole time, and she (kindly) laughed and told me it was a common concern among runners and gave me some tips. I’m not going to lie, I was still weirdly anxious about it, and suffice to say, when I successfully timed my BMs so as to not disrupt the 30 minutes I’d need to be running, my relief was astounding. I don’t know. The entire thing turned me into a crazy person.

The other crazy person thing that I did was a surprise for me, unlike developing consuming anxiety about one specific thing, which I feel like I probably could have predicted. That is, I actually got a huge adrenaline rush from the entire thing and ran significantly harder and faster than my usual runs of about the same distance. I think I went a little crazy while waiting for the race to begin, boxed in on this block of houses with lots of people for an unbearably long time before we could move. I was sort of milling around by the back, since it was less crowded, and I didn’t expect to care about going fast. Once we started, though, to my surprise, I suddenly felt the need to just run, which was made significantly difficult because I was standing in the back with the people with strollers and walkers. So I sort of bobbed and weaved and leapt and generally scared people (so sorry) to get myself out of there. It was weird. I suspect that is a small taste of how racehorses feel all cooped up in those pens before they can start racing. I’m ambitious but not terribly competitive, so it was new territory for me. In addition to, you know, the entire concept of running in a race also being totally new territory.

The last detail is super embarrassingly corny, so, I apologize, and we’ll be back to our regularly-scheduled programming of moderately elaborate recipes shortly. I guess the whole reason that I specifically chose this exact 5k to run was that I did realize that it’s a big paradigm shift for me, and I wanted to acknowledge that for myself. In my adolescence, the annual race had been this event that happened in my periphery and made it vaguely more difficult to drive that weekend. I never considered doing it myself, as someone who loathed running and was generally not terribly athletic. My friend and I had a joke about how in Spanish class she accidentally said, “Jade le gusta correr,” once. I mean, just uttering it was sort of hilarious. It was definitely surreal to be a participant rather than a bystander, or, someone who slept through the entire thing. I mean, I’m not saying that necessarily, you konw, Jade le gusta correr, or anything. Every time I go, it’s totally awful for the first half and sometimes also the second half, but I’m starting to think that that’s how everyone feels about running. I could write an entire separate post on trying to figure out my identity with regards to being fit or not fit, so suffice to say, I’m not totally convinced that I’m a fit person, either. But I did this one thing, at the very least — I know that.

My sweet sister and mother came out to cheer me on by a street corner (my father was out of town, or he’d have come, too). Hilariously, they did not recognize me due to… my wearing sunglasses? So the one photo that my sister took is on the left, which is totally perfect, featuring my mom’s head and my enormous calf muscle. The professional photos came in later (right), and no, I don’t know why I decided to do that with my hands/arms. I’m a dork.

Two Spring Chawanmushi

Savory or sweet breakfast? It’s a question that keeps me up at night (actually true sometimes, but I promise it’s rarely). I’m usually partial to the savory menu offerings, but I do enjoy myself a little breakfast dessert, and the occasional dessert breakfast, too. Choosing a brunch entree is one of the few times that I feel acutely that I need a boyfriend… so that someone would be obligated to split a savory item and a sweet item with me. It’s thoughts like these that may be keeping me single, though.

Well, in the comfort of your own home, you can make a modestly-sized pair of dual-flavor chawanmushi (both savory… for now), no buddy who is obligated to share required! Though, if you’re nice, you might scale up the recipe for more people, too. The prep for these springy steamed egg cups is very minimal, keeping the flavors simple, more importantly, manageable while still half-asleep It takes a bit of time to come together slowly on the stove, especially for breakfast, but it’s not bad.

I’m writing the recipes separately, but it’s easy to make them both at once, too, given that your steamer basket can accommodate two bowls. Or you could combine them into one super-chawanmushi!

Asparagus Chawanmushi
4 thin stalks of asparagus
1 large egg
salt to taste
to garnish: scallion, sesame oil, soy sauce

Slice the asparagus into inch-long (or so) pieces and arrange in a ramekin or small bowl.

Crack the egg into a separate bowl, taking care to preserve at least one half of the egg shell into a little half-egg-cup. Add 4 half-egg-cups of water to the egg, making a 1:2 ratio of egg to water. (I like my chawanmushi a little eggy, so you may want to add more water if you prefer a lighter custard.) If you’re making both chawanmushi, double these quantities and reserve half for the other one.

Whisk the egg and water well, seasoning with a bit of salt, if desired. Pour into the ramekin.

Steam on low until the egg is just set, about 20 minutes. Garnish with sliced scallion and a drizzle of sesame oil and soy sauce.

Chive and Pea Chawanmushi
1 tablespoon peas (frozen is okay)
1/2 bunch chives
1 large egg
salt to taste
to garnish: scallion, sesame oil, soy sauce

Place peas in a ramekin or small bowl and let defrost while you prepare he other ingredients. Mince the chives and add them to the ramekin.

If you already have half the egg mixture reserved from making the sibling chawanmushi, carefully pour it into the ramekin.

Otherwise, rack the egg into a separate bowl, taking care to preserve at least one half of the egg shell into a little half-egg-cup. Add 4 half-egg-cups of water to the egg, making a 1:2 ratio of egg to water. Whisk well, seasoning with a bit of salt, if desired. Pour into the ramekin.

Steam on low until the egg is just set, about 20 minutes. Garnish with sliced scallion and a drizzle of sesame oil and soy sauce.

Pescadero, love haikus

0.
To Pescadero!
There is only one street light,
but many delights.

1.
At Harley Farms,
goats graze on grass, me, on cheese.
Surprise, llamas, too!

2.
Drop by Norm’s Market.
Fresh garlic artichoke bread.
Don’t need more reasons.

3.
For city dwellers:
Rest assured, you’ll feel at home
drinking hip coffee.

4.
And for fish tacos,
Walk into the gas station.
I’m dead serious.

Okay, but did anyone really think that I would have the restraint and grace to stop after 5 short haikus? Sorry, guys. My gushing can’t be contained.

The thing about Pescadero is that it’s actually totally not overrated and somehow continues to be disgustingly charming even after multiple visits, even after everyone has discovered it and made a weekend trip already. It’s still perfect; in fact the relatively recent addition of the coffee shop somehow improved it from my caffeine-addled perspective.

It’s like, were you disappointed that the #goatchella line stretched apparently down the entire Bay and there was no way you were going to be able to cuddle with a goat? Pescadero’s got you covered, with lovingly-led tours of the dairy that converted me into a goat cheese believer. I’ve been on the tour I think four separate times now, which I’m only slightly embarrassed about.

That cheese, plus a warm, buttery loaf of the garlic artichoke bread from this grocery store — I imagine if they sold that as a scent, I wouldn’t be able to keep the gentlemen callers away — eaten on a nearby a windy beach with friends remains one of my favorite afternoons in memory.

And the gas station tacos really are amazing. But you don’t have to take my word for it. There’s a NYT piece about chasing tacos up the Pacific coast (how can I get that job?) that gives the Mercado y Taqueria de Amigos a shout-out.

I didn’t photograph them my most recent visit, because one woman can only eat so much, but there’s also Duarte’s Tavern, where a bowl of artichoke soup and a slice of olallieberry pie can fix any funk, and speaking of pie, Pie Ranch is a nearby educational farm that’s breathtaking. I smiled and laughed so much at a barn dance they hosted that my face hurt afterwards.

I swear I’m not being compensated in any way, shape, or form for this, though I know it certainly reads like it. Part of me wants to keep it all selfishly to myself, but of course that’s no good. It really is just lovely. Let’s go!