I have started a new blog, The Salivating Seattleite, over at www.thesalivatingseattleite.blogspot.com
Please come check it out, that's where I'll be posting from now on. Hope to hear from you there. Cheers!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
New Adventures!
Hello!
I have started a new blog, The Salivating Seattleite, over at www.thesalivatingseattleite.blogspot.com
I have started a new blog, The Salivating Seattleite, over at www.thesalivatingseattleite.blogspot.com
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Broccoli
Broccoli. I just ate an entire head of broccoli. For dinner. There was no meat, no potatoes, no roll, no butter, no milk, no salad, no sauce. I just steamed it for a couple minutes until it was bright green and just barely tender. I drizzled some olive oil over the top and dusted it with kosher salt and black pepper. It was delicious. The buttery stems and the nibbly ends, the smooth and herby oil, all with a slight peppery bite.
One might wonder how it is possible to enjoy broccoli this much, but to understand where I’m coming from, you would have to meet my dad. My dad and I are a lot alike; the artsy types who doodle, draw, cook and dream. He made dinner most nights when I was a kid and it was always interesting. Such meals as quiche Lorraine with spicy sausage, cottage cheese, and pumpkin seeds (from jack-o-lantern carving) will live in infamy in our house because they were horrible. If my dad didn’t have an ingredient he would use what was in the fridge instead, never questioning the possible flavor or function differences. Leftover night was common, as were stir fries, casseroles, stews, and quiches‒all excellent vehicles for fusing a multitude of flavors together.
That’s not to say that everything my dad cooked was bad or weird. In fact, he is an amazing cook. I think his nonchalant attitude and tendency to experiment are surely what have shaped his culinary skills. He could take on any grandma for flakiest pie crust, most addictive caramel corn, or chewiest brownies. He was always confident about his cooking, even when the rest of the family questioned the results. But it wasn’t just cooking that he made look easy; whether it was jumping off a cliff into Lake Powell or playing a concerto by Rachmaninoff, my dad seemed to do most things without pause or hesitation.
In addition to having mastered American classics, he could cook foreign cuisine as well. My mother’s family is of Russian heritage, so my dad learned how to make delicious piroshky, pilmeni, borscht, pashka, and kulich that made my Baba swoon. Self-taught from the Joy of Cooking, my dad would bang out roux-thickened sauces and vinaigrettes from scratch in minutes. I would sit on the bench by our stove and beg him to speak only in French while he slowly stirred cheese sauce or onion soup. This led me to evolve into a complete Francophile, pretending I was a beautiful Parisian girl staying with an American family temporarily. Some people say reading books is like taking a vacation, but for me that was dinner. Sometimes we had Chinese night and ate on our special green china, the meal complete with chopsticks and tea. We ate curry, pad Thai, moussaka, baklava, and enchiladas. Mole, chile rellenos, flan, and pasta Puttanesca.
I loved dinner time. Every single night my family ate together, and I found it so strange to hear my friends say they never ate dinner with their families. Interestingly, those same friends were the ones who didn’t like vegetables or trying new things. My brother and I were the unpicky kids, the ones who would try anything. Before the Food Network even existed, my dad made purple potatoes and quinoa for dinner, unheard of foods on most American dinner plates. It wasn’t our choice to be adventurous; it was just the way it was.
My dad claims the reason why he loves bold flavors so much is because of the fairly bland food he ate growing up. His family is of mostly Norwegian and Swedish descent, where simple meat and potato dishes dominate. While his palate may have diversified over time, some of his Scandinavian upbringing sticks with him today. He lives quite simply, a naturalist and a nature enthusiast with no desire for riches or fame. He has a fondness for sweets (hence the ever-present brownies), but also a philosophy of moderation and balance. His spiritual beliefs include a mix of love, karma, and God, and while he made these known, it was never in a preachy or self-righteous way. Dinners always commenced with grace, which was said in unison. It became almost a chant, which upset my mother who didn’t think we were taking it seriously. “God is good; God is great; now we thank him for our food. Aaaaaamen!”
There were some components of dinner that were always the same, no matter how exotic the entree. You always had to finish your glass of milk, salad, and cooked vegetable. That’s right; almost every single night we had a raw vegetable and a cooked vegetable, and you could not clear your plate until you had finished both. My dad’s cooked vegetable of choice? That’s right, broccoli. He would steam it, top it with a pat of butter or a drizzle of olive oil, and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Sometimes he would add a squeeze of lemon juice, but this was pretty much how broccoli was always cooked.
I no longer drink a glass of milk with dinner, and sadly, I almost never have both a raw and a cooked vegetable in the same meal. However, the lessons my dad taught me about being confident, adventurous, yet kind and humble, and especially how to cook, have stuck with me. I still enjoy my broccoli the way I have for the past twenty some years; the same every time.
Steamed Broccoli
Ingredients:
1 head broccoli
1 tsp butter
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper, ground
Directions:
1. Cut the stem from the florets. Cut up the florets into pieces. Peel the broccoli stem and slice into ¼ inch thick coins.
2. Bring an inch of water to a boil in a pan with a steamer over it. Add the broccoli and steam for about 3-5 minutes, until bright green and just tender.
3. Put the broccoli into a serving dish and lightly mix in the butter and salt. Serve hot.
One might wonder how it is possible to enjoy broccoli this much, but to understand where I’m coming from, you would have to meet my dad. My dad and I are a lot alike; the artsy types who doodle, draw, cook and dream. He made dinner most nights when I was a kid and it was always interesting. Such meals as quiche Lorraine with spicy sausage, cottage cheese, and pumpkin seeds (from jack-o-lantern carving) will live in infamy in our house because they were horrible. If my dad didn’t have an ingredient he would use what was in the fridge instead, never questioning the possible flavor or function differences. Leftover night was common, as were stir fries, casseroles, stews, and quiches‒all excellent vehicles for fusing a multitude of flavors together.
That’s not to say that everything my dad cooked was bad or weird. In fact, he is an amazing cook. I think his nonchalant attitude and tendency to experiment are surely what have shaped his culinary skills. He could take on any grandma for flakiest pie crust, most addictive caramel corn, or chewiest brownies. He was always confident about his cooking, even when the rest of the family questioned the results. But it wasn’t just cooking that he made look easy; whether it was jumping off a cliff into Lake Powell or playing a concerto by Rachmaninoff, my dad seemed to do most things without pause or hesitation.
In addition to having mastered American classics, he could cook foreign cuisine as well. My mother’s family is of Russian heritage, so my dad learned how to make delicious piroshky, pilmeni, borscht, pashka, and kulich that made my Baba swoon. Self-taught from the Joy of Cooking, my dad would bang out roux-thickened sauces and vinaigrettes from scratch in minutes. I would sit on the bench by our stove and beg him to speak only in French while he slowly stirred cheese sauce or onion soup. This led me to evolve into a complete Francophile, pretending I was a beautiful Parisian girl staying with an American family temporarily. Some people say reading books is like taking a vacation, but for me that was dinner. Sometimes we had Chinese night and ate on our special green china, the meal complete with chopsticks and tea. We ate curry, pad Thai, moussaka, baklava, and enchiladas. Mole, chile rellenos, flan, and pasta Puttanesca.
I loved dinner time. Every single night my family ate together, and I found it so strange to hear my friends say they never ate dinner with their families. Interestingly, those same friends were the ones who didn’t like vegetables or trying new things. My brother and I were the unpicky kids, the ones who would try anything. Before the Food Network even existed, my dad made purple potatoes and quinoa for dinner, unheard of foods on most American dinner plates. It wasn’t our choice to be adventurous; it was just the way it was.
My dad claims the reason why he loves bold flavors so much is because of the fairly bland food he ate growing up. His family is of mostly Norwegian and Swedish descent, where simple meat and potato dishes dominate. While his palate may have diversified over time, some of his Scandinavian upbringing sticks with him today. He lives quite simply, a naturalist and a nature enthusiast with no desire for riches or fame. He has a fondness for sweets (hence the ever-present brownies), but also a philosophy of moderation and balance. His spiritual beliefs include a mix of love, karma, and God, and while he made these known, it was never in a preachy or self-righteous way. Dinners always commenced with grace, which was said in unison. It became almost a chant, which upset my mother who didn’t think we were taking it seriously. “God is good; God is great; now we thank him for our food. Aaaaaamen!”
There were some components of dinner that were always the same, no matter how exotic the entree. You always had to finish your glass of milk, salad, and cooked vegetable. That’s right; almost every single night we had a raw vegetable and a cooked vegetable, and you could not clear your plate until you had finished both. My dad’s cooked vegetable of choice? That’s right, broccoli. He would steam it, top it with a pat of butter or a drizzle of olive oil, and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Sometimes he would add a squeeze of lemon juice, but this was pretty much how broccoli was always cooked.
I no longer drink a glass of milk with dinner, and sadly, I almost never have both a raw and a cooked vegetable in the same meal. However, the lessons my dad taught me about being confident, adventurous, yet kind and humble, and especially how to cook, have stuck with me. I still enjoy my broccoli the way I have for the past twenty some years; the same every time.
Steamed Broccoli
Ingredients:
1 head broccoli
1 tsp butter
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper, ground
Directions:
1. Cut the stem from the florets. Cut up the florets into pieces. Peel the broccoli stem and slice into ¼ inch thick coins.
2. Bring an inch of water to a boil in a pan with a steamer over it. Add the broccoli and steam for about 3-5 minutes, until bright green and just tender.
3. Put the broccoli into a serving dish and lightly mix in the butter and salt. Serve hot.
The Tastiest Superfood
There are very few things that can be described by all four of the following words: indulgent, decadent, healthy, and aphrodisiac. Luckily for me, one of those things is chocolate. Chocolate has been enjoyed by people around the world for thousands of years, and most people can agree that eating chocolate is one of life’s simplest pleasures (except for those extremely odd people who do not like chocolate).
I propose chocolate be given out as medicine, for I believe it could solve many ailments. Cranky-pants? Eat a bar of milk chocolate. Tired? A handful of chocolate chips will do. Need to lose/gain weight? I would prescribe a nutritionally balanced diet supplemented with a nightly dose of semisweet chocolate squares. Depressed? Eat some very strong, dark chocolate, preferably 85% cacao. I wonder what I would call myself, Emily Munday, CD, Doctor of Chocolate?
The term “chocoholic” seems a bit extreme, but I will admit to having chocoholic tendencies. Normal people might enjoy chocolate every once in a while, without feeling a need to eat chocolate all the time. As for myself, I see no reason why chocolate cannot be enjoyed daily. For breakfast, there are crepes with Nutella, chocolate chip pancakes, leftover chocolate cake or brownies, or even as my roommate does, a tiny bite of chocolate after she finishes her regular breakfast. She says that she must finish the meal with a good taste in her mouth, and for that reason, she nibbles on a little chocolate.
For lunch and snacks there are chocolate chip cookies, my dad’s cookie brittle (a very crunchy addictive version of chocolate chip cookies), chocolate pudding, candy bars, trail mix (with chocolate chips or M & M’s), chocolate covered pretzels or almonds, mochas, and hot chocolate. For dinner one could savor the Mexican delicacy, Mole, which is often flavored with onions, garlic, chiles, dried fruits and seeds, and a little Mexican chocolate.
The meal where chocolate is truly allowed to shine though is dessert. Chocolate cakes, mousses, tarts, pies, ice creams, fudge sauces and ganache…the possibilities are endless! And it doesn’t have to be chocolate by itself, because like any great friend, chocolate gets along with everybody. Whether its citrus fruits, berries, cherries, bananas, mangos, coconuts, caramel, red wine, rum, vanilla, ginger, mint, maple, coffee, nuts, chiles, or tea, chocolate enhances most any sweet flavor combination. Chocolate can be extremely complex and sophisticated or it can be simple and homey.
I think that chocolate should not be a privilege, it should be a right that all people are allowed to experience. I mean really, if everyone in the world was given a piece of chocolate at the same time, on the same day, maybe we could have world peace for just one minute. With silky chocolate melting on everyone’s tongue I don’t think people would want to fight wars or be hateful to each other. A little more chocolate in the world might just be the answer that we’ve been looking for.
Ok ok, so maybe I have taken this whole chocolate thing too far. Or maybe, I am just having a chocolate craving right now.
Chocolate Truffles
Truffles (those little chocolates named after the most expensive fungi in the world) are one of my favorite types of chocolate candies. A smooth ganache filling is dusted in bitter cocoa powder or rolled in chopped nuts or even coconut. They are so simple to make at home, and you will impress all your friends with your candy-making skills.
Makes 90 truffles
Ingredients:
3 bags semisweet chocolate chips (12oz each)
2 cups heavy cream
2 drops mint, almond, orange, vanilla, lavender, or rum extract (be creative!)
Pinch sea salt or Kosher salt
Cocoa powder, chopped nuts, or shredded coconut for dusting
Directions:
1. Place the chocolate chips in a large glass bowl.
2. Bring the heavy cream up to a simmer in a medium saucepan (do not let it boil or the bottom the pan will scorch).
3. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and stir until all the chips are melted and the mixture is smooth.
4. Add the flavoring of choice and make sure it is evenly distributed. You may need to add more, but only add a drop at a time, as extracts are very strong. Add the salt as well.
5. Refrigerate the ganache for 3-4 hours or overnight, until it is firm and set.
6. Put the cocoa powder, nuts, or coconut in a shallow bowl or dish.
7. Scoop tablespoons of the ganache and roll into balls, working quickly to not melt the chocolate. Roll the truffles into the coating of your choice until completely cover. Place the finished truffles on a baking sheet and refrigerate again until firm.
8. Pack the truffles into pretty bags or tins to give as gifts or set out on a plate for dessert with coffee and fresh fruit.
I propose chocolate be given out as medicine, for I believe it could solve many ailments. Cranky-pants? Eat a bar of milk chocolate. Tired? A handful of chocolate chips will do. Need to lose/gain weight? I would prescribe a nutritionally balanced diet supplemented with a nightly dose of semisweet chocolate squares. Depressed? Eat some very strong, dark chocolate, preferably 85% cacao. I wonder what I would call myself, Emily Munday, CD, Doctor of Chocolate?
The term “chocoholic” seems a bit extreme, but I will admit to having chocoholic tendencies. Normal people might enjoy chocolate every once in a while, without feeling a need to eat chocolate all the time. As for myself, I see no reason why chocolate cannot be enjoyed daily. For breakfast, there are crepes with Nutella, chocolate chip pancakes, leftover chocolate cake or brownies, or even as my roommate does, a tiny bite of chocolate after she finishes her regular breakfast. She says that she must finish the meal with a good taste in her mouth, and for that reason, she nibbles on a little chocolate.
For lunch and snacks there are chocolate chip cookies, my dad’s cookie brittle (a very crunchy addictive version of chocolate chip cookies), chocolate pudding, candy bars, trail mix (with chocolate chips or M & M’s), chocolate covered pretzels or almonds, mochas, and hot chocolate. For dinner one could savor the Mexican delicacy, Mole, which is often flavored with onions, garlic, chiles, dried fruits and seeds, and a little Mexican chocolate.
The meal where chocolate is truly allowed to shine though is dessert. Chocolate cakes, mousses, tarts, pies, ice creams, fudge sauces and ganache…the possibilities are endless! And it doesn’t have to be chocolate by itself, because like any great friend, chocolate gets along with everybody. Whether its citrus fruits, berries, cherries, bananas, mangos, coconuts, caramel, red wine, rum, vanilla, ginger, mint, maple, coffee, nuts, chiles, or tea, chocolate enhances most any sweet flavor combination. Chocolate can be extremely complex and sophisticated or it can be simple and homey.
I think that chocolate should not be a privilege, it should be a right that all people are allowed to experience. I mean really, if everyone in the world was given a piece of chocolate at the same time, on the same day, maybe we could have world peace for just one minute. With silky chocolate melting on everyone’s tongue I don’t think people would want to fight wars or be hateful to each other. A little more chocolate in the world might just be the answer that we’ve been looking for.
Ok ok, so maybe I have taken this whole chocolate thing too far. Or maybe, I am just having a chocolate craving right now.
Chocolate Truffles
Truffles (those little chocolates named after the most expensive fungi in the world) are one of my favorite types of chocolate candies. A smooth ganache filling is dusted in bitter cocoa powder or rolled in chopped nuts or even coconut. They are so simple to make at home, and you will impress all your friends with your candy-making skills.
Makes 90 truffles
Ingredients:
3 bags semisweet chocolate chips (12oz each)
2 cups heavy cream
2 drops mint, almond, orange, vanilla, lavender, or rum extract (be creative!)
Pinch sea salt or Kosher salt
Cocoa powder, chopped nuts, or shredded coconut for dusting
Directions:
1. Place the chocolate chips in a large glass bowl.
2. Bring the heavy cream up to a simmer in a medium saucepan (do not let it boil or the bottom the pan will scorch).
3. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and stir until all the chips are melted and the mixture is smooth.
4. Add the flavoring of choice and make sure it is evenly distributed. You may need to add more, but only add a drop at a time, as extracts are very strong. Add the salt as well.
5. Refrigerate the ganache for 3-4 hours or overnight, until it is firm and set.
6. Put the cocoa powder, nuts, or coconut in a shallow bowl or dish.
7. Scoop tablespoons of the ganache and roll into balls, working quickly to not melt the chocolate. Roll the truffles into the coating of your choice until completely cover. Place the finished truffles on a baking sheet and refrigerate again until firm.
8. Pack the truffles into pretty bags or tins to give as gifts or set out on a plate for dessert with coffee and fresh fruit.
Freezer Burn
Ahhh the freezer. How I love thee. You keep all my food safe and cold until I want to devour it. Whether it’s salmon, chicken, or that ground turkey on sale, you wrap them tight in your tiny ice crystals. Spinach, coffee, and ripe bananas−to think, all these lovely foods would go bad before I could finish them, but not with a freezer! A pound of ginger? Not a problem. Organic French bread for $1? Put it in the freezer.
I am in awe that housewives 100 years ago made due without a freezer. It is the perfect solution for economical eating. What did people do with their entire pig or cow carcass? Well, there is smoking, pickling, canning, drying, fermenting, confit…I guess they figured it out. Now that I think about it, I’m really lazy. I don’t use many of the convenience products available today, like instant rice or frozen entrees, but I definitely don’t grow all my food, eat only in season, or cook everything from scratch. I do a little bit of cheating. No, scratch that, I utlize my resources effectively. That sounds much better.
A perfect freezer food are waffles. All they take is a little defrost in the microwave, a crisping of the toaster, and a drizzle of something sweet. Or better yet, waffle PB & J’s; now that’s a breakfast that will keep you going. However, I have never uttered the words “leggo my eggo”, because those cardboard-like, fake yellow crisps just don’t do it for me. I like something a little more substantial, with flavor and texture. Nothing beats whole wheat waffles made from scratch; crispy golden brown edges, a fluffy steaming interior, and pockets for syrup to drip into.
Not only can one keep homemade waffles in the freezer for a couple months, but the whole wheat flour used in them should be kept in the freezer as well to keep it from going rancid. Syrup can be a little predictable, but a delightfully easy sauce can be made from pureed frozen berries. Or for an easy an delicious dinner one could defrost some of their frozen Bolognese sauce to top their waffles along with a fried egg and some grated Parmesan cheese.
Preserved food is an art. And I commend those people that figured out how to make pig bladder, spleen, and intestines tasty for months after slaughter. I enjoy beef jerky and kimchee as much as the next epicurean, but sometimes I just want dinner now. And for that reason (among many others) I love my freezer.
Freezer Lovin’ Whole Wheat Waffles
Ingredients:
¾ cup all purpose flour
¾ cup whole wheat flour
1 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
2 ea large eggs
1 cup lowfat buttermilk OR 1 scant cup skim milk with 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
¾ cup skim milk
1 tbsp brown sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
nonstick cooking spray
Butter, syrup, fruit sauce, peanut butter, jelly, honey, or powdered sugar to serve.
Directions:
1. Preheat the waffle iron.
2. Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until thoroughly combined.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk (or substitute), skim milk, brown sugar, and vanilla until thoroughly combined.
4. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and fold together with a wooden spoon. The mixture should be lumpy, but there should not be any dry ingredients clumped on the bottom of the bowl.
5. Spray the waffle iron liberally with the nonstick cooking spray once it is ready. Use a measuring cup to ladle in about ¼ cup of the batter per waffle. Close the waffle iron and cook until golden brown and crispy, about 2 minutes. Keep the waffles warm in a 200° oven if you plan on serving all of them, or let them cool to room temperature if you plan on freezing them.
6. Put cooled waffles to be frozen in a heavy duty zip lock bag and seal squeezing any excess air out of the bag. Can be frozen up to two months.
7. To defrost waffles, pull out desired number and place on a microwaveable plate. Microwave for 30 seconds, until no longer frozen but not hot. Transfer to the toaster for a minute or two to get hot and crisp.
Makes about 10 large waffles
I am in awe that housewives 100 years ago made due without a freezer. It is the perfect solution for economical eating. What did people do with their entire pig or cow carcass? Well, there is smoking, pickling, canning, drying, fermenting, confit…I guess they figured it out. Now that I think about it, I’m really lazy. I don’t use many of the convenience products available today, like instant rice or frozen entrees, but I definitely don’t grow all my food, eat only in season, or cook everything from scratch. I do a little bit of cheating. No, scratch that, I utlize my resources effectively. That sounds much better.
A perfect freezer food are waffles. All they take is a little defrost in the microwave, a crisping of the toaster, and a drizzle of something sweet. Or better yet, waffle PB & J’s; now that’s a breakfast that will keep you going. However, I have never uttered the words “leggo my eggo”, because those cardboard-like, fake yellow crisps just don’t do it for me. I like something a little more substantial, with flavor and texture. Nothing beats whole wheat waffles made from scratch; crispy golden brown edges, a fluffy steaming interior, and pockets for syrup to drip into.
Not only can one keep homemade waffles in the freezer for a couple months, but the whole wheat flour used in them should be kept in the freezer as well to keep it from going rancid. Syrup can be a little predictable, but a delightfully easy sauce can be made from pureed frozen berries. Or for an easy an delicious dinner one could defrost some of their frozen Bolognese sauce to top their waffles along with a fried egg and some grated Parmesan cheese.
Preserved food is an art. And I commend those people that figured out how to make pig bladder, spleen, and intestines tasty for months after slaughter. I enjoy beef jerky and kimchee as much as the next epicurean, but sometimes I just want dinner now. And for that reason (among many others) I love my freezer.
Freezer Lovin’ Whole Wheat Waffles
Ingredients:
¾ cup all purpose flour
¾ cup whole wheat flour
1 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
2 ea large eggs
1 cup lowfat buttermilk OR 1 scant cup skim milk with 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
¾ cup skim milk
1 tbsp brown sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
nonstick cooking spray
Butter, syrup, fruit sauce, peanut butter, jelly, honey, or powdered sugar to serve.
Directions:
1. Preheat the waffle iron.
2. Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until thoroughly combined.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk (or substitute), skim milk, brown sugar, and vanilla until thoroughly combined.
4. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and fold together with a wooden spoon. The mixture should be lumpy, but there should not be any dry ingredients clumped on the bottom of the bowl.
5. Spray the waffle iron liberally with the nonstick cooking spray once it is ready. Use a measuring cup to ladle in about ¼ cup of the batter per waffle. Close the waffle iron and cook until golden brown and crispy, about 2 minutes. Keep the waffles warm in a 200° oven if you plan on serving all of them, or let them cool to room temperature if you plan on freezing them.
6. Put cooled waffles to be frozen in a heavy duty zip lock bag and seal squeezing any excess air out of the bag. Can be frozen up to two months.
7. To defrost waffles, pull out desired number and place on a microwaveable plate. Microwave for 30 seconds, until no longer frozen but not hot. Transfer to the toaster for a minute or two to get hot and crisp.
Makes about 10 large waffles
Sack Lunch
Every single day in elementary school I brought a lunch that contained a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, some carrot sticks, and two cookies. Every now and then I had a bean burrito and rarely a bologna sandwich (with ketchup and mustard−like a hot dog), but I wasn’t a fan of meat sandwiches though, so most often I would get a peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat bread with Adam’s Natural Peanut Butter and Danish Orchards Raspberry Spread. Other kids had fruit roll ups, gummy worms, and Lunchables (which we were allowed to have very rarely). Most of the time it didn’t bother me that my lunch didn’t include the newest junk food, but there were times when I lusted over someone’s rice krispie treat or cheese crackers.
I always brought my lunch in a lunch box, which was selected at the beginning of each year along with a new backpack. The choosing of the lunch box was a way of expressing yourself (and the newest Disney movie). In kindergarten, my mom taped a picture of herself to the inside of my lunchbox because I would miss her so much at lunch time that I would cry. Second and third grade’s lunch boxes were like status symbols, with the Cadillac of lunch boxes having glitter, shiny plastic, and cool zippered compartments.
The summer before sixth grade I got the grand idea that I was going to decorate my new lunch bag in a multicolored swirl design of puffy paint; everyone would be so jealous of my creativity! Well, apparently, the lunchbox trend did not make the transition from elementary school to middle school, and on the first day of school I was horrified to find out that no one else had a lunchbox. People had paper bags or they bought a Cup O’ Noodles from the lunch counter. I begged my parents to buy the paper bags, but they thought it was silly to throw a paper bag away everyday instead of just reusing a lunch box. So I suffered through the agony of toting my horrendous lunch bag for another year.
By eighth grade I had convinced my parents that I was responsible enough to pack my own lunch. Most of the time though, I would beg my friends to lend me a dollar to buy something at school, like some of the deliciously gooey chocolate chip cookies made fresh daily. The all natural peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were long gone and a Styrofoam cup of dehydrated carrots, corn, parsley, and fried noodles in a bright yellow broth took its place. Cup O’ Noodles in particular was so popular that they always had a giant hot water dispenser next to the lunch counter for kids to rehydrate their soups with.
Instead of trading “good” foods with each other or laughing at the kid who could squirt milk out his nose, lunchtimes consisted of gossipy girl talk, boys asking girls “out”, and deciding which cliquey formation to sit with that week. Lunch time was no longer about eating, but more about socializing, and more specifically, who to not socialize with. Any outsider would have needed a detailed map to figure out which tables (or sections of tables) belonged to whom.
In high school, the cliques continued to determine where you ate lunch, but there was another deciding factor: your race. This wasn’t an official ruling (obviously) but one that happened because of socioeconomic status. If you were white, chances are good your parents would give you lunch money to eat off campus. If they didn’t, or you were on free or reduced lunch, you ate in the cafeteria. Sadly, the line could not have been drawn any clearer. None of the popular kids ate in the cafeteria, and most had probably never set foot in it. In the four years that I attended Roosevelt, I never ate one meal in the cafeteria.
Because of the open lunch policy, between 11:15 and 12:45 p.m., the surrounding neighborhood was flooded with flocks of teenagers traveling to and from their lunch destinations. There was the tiny teriyaki shack (which has since closed due to health code violations), Taco Del Mar (a local Baja-style burrito chain), QFC (a grocery store), Whole Foods, and Jamba Juice. In order to eat off campus, you had to scrounge up some money, and since my parents didn’t believe in giving me lunch money every day, I would often get one of the $0.33 bagels at Whole Foods, or mooch a chicken tender off someone.
Sometimes I didn’t eat lunch at all. I said “I wasn’t hungry” because I was too ashamed to bring a lunch from home and didn’t want to keep asking people for food. Freshman year of high school I grew 2 inches and lost thirty pounds. People that I knew in middle school introduced themselves to me because they did not recognize me. Of course, some of this was due to puberty, but not eating lunch (and sometimes not breakfast) played a huge part in that I’m sure. I was extremely insecure, and even though I was not overweight, I had a mental image of myself that was clearly distorted.
I had grown up loving cooking and eating, and to suddenly convince myself I didn’t want to eat was easier than it should have been. There were so many rules about when, where, what, and who to eat with that lunch time became the most stressful part of the entire day. When I was in class, I was assigned a seat. At lunch, it was up to me to find people that would accept me into their group. A few lunch periods I wanted to just hide in the bathroom, just to not have to deal with it. That’s not to say that every lunch was dreadful, in fact, I often had fun and seemed to fit in with the “popular kids” for the most part.
My senior year I finally had an opening in my schedule to take an elective. It was between culinary arts, pottery, and gym class, and I didn’t hesitate to pick culinary arts. When I was little I had taped my own cooking shows and had pretended I was a famous chef, so taking a cooking class instead of a gym class was an exciting offer. While in that class, it became clear to me that I was different. I cared about the way my food looked and tasted, and knew more about cooking than anyone else. It dawned on me that maybe I should follow my rekindled passion and look at a career as a chef. By the spring I had made up my mind; I didn’t want to just go to college and get a degree, I wanted to pick a field that I could do what I loved every day. I applied to Johnson & Wales University, the Culinary Institute of America, and the University of Washington (to please my parents). In the end, I chose to attend Johnson & Wales University in Denver, Colorado, and haven’t looked back since.
Food became my life. I earned a culinary degree and worked in a variety of foodservice establishments including a bar and grill, a catering company, a sandwich shop, and a fine dining restaurant in a boutique hotel. I loved reading about cooking, watching other people cook, and experimenting in the kitchen. I would spend hours poring over beautiful cookbooks in the library and dreaming of dishes to serve in my future restaurant.
I had gone from trying to be the person other people thought I should be to being the person I actually was. All of a sudden I was getting straight A’s, whereas in high school I had done just ok. I was away from my comfort zone and was allowed to make decisions on my own, without the influence of my parents or peers.
One of those decisions was to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in nutrition. I had realized that I didn’t want to succeed in life by myself; I wanted the success of others to determine my success. I wanted to show people the power that food has over every aspect of their life; that their mental, physical, and emotional well-being are all influenced by the foods they choose to eat. I also wanted to dispel the myth that healthy food tastes like cardboard. So, I started teaching Operation Frontline classes (six week food and nutrition cooking courses that are targeted at low income families) and got involved with Nutrition Society (a campus organization whose purpose is to spread the word about nutrition to the community). Everyone loves to eat good food, and to be able to offer food to people that tastes good and makes them healthier is one of the most rewarding things I can think of.
So just how important is a sack lunch? Its one thing to be able to eat lunch and even a privilege to decide not to eat lunch, but it’s a whole different issue when someone does not have the means to eat at all. There are millions of people in this country that can’t afford to eat a Chipotle burrito or even to pack a lunch from home. For whatever reason (and there are many) there are people that live in the most bountiful, powerful country in the world that didn’t eat lunch today. Or dinner. Or breakfast. Worst of all, they probably didn’t have any food to feed their children either.
When asked to organize a Nutrition Society service project in December, I decided that I didn’t want to sort food at the food bank or host a canned goods drive. I wanted to give sack lunches directly to people that really needed it. With the economy taking a hit the last couple years, the number of beggars on Denver’s street corners has grown tremendously. So with a hundred dollars I went to the grocery store and bought enough loaves of whole wheat bread, natural peanut butter, jelly, vegetables, fruit, and pretzels to make eighty sack lunches. I invited Nutrition Society members to help make the lunches one Saturday morning and within an hour we had managed to make 96 lunches. I am proud to say that these lunches didn’t contain preservatives, corn syrup, or saturated fat. They were nutritionally balanced, hearty, and cost only a little more than $1 each.
We got into a couple cars and headed out to distribute our goods. Once my car got downtown, we saw our first “victim” on Speer Boulevard. Bobby, one of the members of our group, jumped out of the car and sprinted to an older man sitting on the corner near the Convention Center. Before giving the man the sack, Bobby explained who he was and shook the man’s hand. He handed him the lunch and sprinted back to the car just as the light was turning green. The homeless man grinned a toothless smile and waved to us, shouting his thanks. For the next hour and a half we drove around downtown Denver, ambushing people with free food and thumbs ups. Not one person turned us down, and all were grateful for the lunches.
That day was one of the highlights of my college experience, one that I will never forget. The feeling of giving someone a wholesome meal at a time of day when most soup kitchens aren’t open and their last meal was hours ago is something like none other. I hope to always be someone who spread the word about healing eating, and an advocate for those who don’t have food to eat at all. The saying “all I really needed to know I learned in kindergarten” is so true, and the importance of a sack lunch is definitely part of that.
Cutting and bagging your own vegetables and pretzels saves a lot of money and doesn’t take too much time. This recipe makes one lunch, but making lunches for the whole week saves time.
Ingredients:
2 slices whole wheat bread
1 tbsp natural peanut butter (look at the label for ones without hydrogenated oils,
sugar, or corn syrup)
1 tbsp jam (again, avoid corn syrup)
1 each carrot, whole
1 rib celery
1 cup pretzels
1 each apple
Directions:
1. Spread one piece of the bread with the peanut butter and the other piece with the jam. Sandwich the slices together, and cut down the center on a diagonal to make two triangles. Place the sandwich in a bag.
2. Wash the carrot and the celery. Peel the carrot and cut both the carrot and the celery into sticks. Place the vegetables in a bag.
3. Put the pretzels in a bag.
4. Wash and dry the apple.
5. Put everything in a paper, plastic, or reusable lunch box to enjoy at lunchtime.
I always brought my lunch in a lunch box, which was selected at the beginning of each year along with a new backpack. The choosing of the lunch box was a way of expressing yourself (and the newest Disney movie). In kindergarten, my mom taped a picture of herself to the inside of my lunchbox because I would miss her so much at lunch time that I would cry. Second and third grade’s lunch boxes were like status symbols, with the Cadillac of lunch boxes having glitter, shiny plastic, and cool zippered compartments.
The summer before sixth grade I got the grand idea that I was going to decorate my new lunch bag in a multicolored swirl design of puffy paint; everyone would be so jealous of my creativity! Well, apparently, the lunchbox trend did not make the transition from elementary school to middle school, and on the first day of school I was horrified to find out that no one else had a lunchbox. People had paper bags or they bought a Cup O’ Noodles from the lunch counter. I begged my parents to buy the paper bags, but they thought it was silly to throw a paper bag away everyday instead of just reusing a lunch box. So I suffered through the agony of toting my horrendous lunch bag for another year.
By eighth grade I had convinced my parents that I was responsible enough to pack my own lunch. Most of the time though, I would beg my friends to lend me a dollar to buy something at school, like some of the deliciously gooey chocolate chip cookies made fresh daily. The all natural peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were long gone and a Styrofoam cup of dehydrated carrots, corn, parsley, and fried noodles in a bright yellow broth took its place. Cup O’ Noodles in particular was so popular that they always had a giant hot water dispenser next to the lunch counter for kids to rehydrate their soups with.
Instead of trading “good” foods with each other or laughing at the kid who could squirt milk out his nose, lunchtimes consisted of gossipy girl talk, boys asking girls “out”, and deciding which cliquey formation to sit with that week. Lunch time was no longer about eating, but more about socializing, and more specifically, who to not socialize with. Any outsider would have needed a detailed map to figure out which tables (or sections of tables) belonged to whom.
In high school, the cliques continued to determine where you ate lunch, but there was another deciding factor: your race. This wasn’t an official ruling (obviously) but one that happened because of socioeconomic status. If you were white, chances are good your parents would give you lunch money to eat off campus. If they didn’t, or you were on free or reduced lunch, you ate in the cafeteria. Sadly, the line could not have been drawn any clearer. None of the popular kids ate in the cafeteria, and most had probably never set foot in it. In the four years that I attended Roosevelt, I never ate one meal in the cafeteria.
Because of the open lunch policy, between 11:15 and 12:45 p.m., the surrounding neighborhood was flooded with flocks of teenagers traveling to and from their lunch destinations. There was the tiny teriyaki shack (which has since closed due to health code violations), Taco Del Mar (a local Baja-style burrito chain), QFC (a grocery store), Whole Foods, and Jamba Juice. In order to eat off campus, you had to scrounge up some money, and since my parents didn’t believe in giving me lunch money every day, I would often get one of the $0.33 bagels at Whole Foods, or mooch a chicken tender off someone.
Sometimes I didn’t eat lunch at all. I said “I wasn’t hungry” because I was too ashamed to bring a lunch from home and didn’t want to keep asking people for food. Freshman year of high school I grew 2 inches and lost thirty pounds. People that I knew in middle school introduced themselves to me because they did not recognize me. Of course, some of this was due to puberty, but not eating lunch (and sometimes not breakfast) played a huge part in that I’m sure. I was extremely insecure, and even though I was not overweight, I had a mental image of myself that was clearly distorted.
I had grown up loving cooking and eating, and to suddenly convince myself I didn’t want to eat was easier than it should have been. There were so many rules about when, where, what, and who to eat with that lunch time became the most stressful part of the entire day. When I was in class, I was assigned a seat. At lunch, it was up to me to find people that would accept me into their group. A few lunch periods I wanted to just hide in the bathroom, just to not have to deal with it. That’s not to say that every lunch was dreadful, in fact, I often had fun and seemed to fit in with the “popular kids” for the most part.
My senior year I finally had an opening in my schedule to take an elective. It was between culinary arts, pottery, and gym class, and I didn’t hesitate to pick culinary arts. When I was little I had taped my own cooking shows and had pretended I was a famous chef, so taking a cooking class instead of a gym class was an exciting offer. While in that class, it became clear to me that I was different. I cared about the way my food looked and tasted, and knew more about cooking than anyone else. It dawned on me that maybe I should follow my rekindled passion and look at a career as a chef. By the spring I had made up my mind; I didn’t want to just go to college and get a degree, I wanted to pick a field that I could do what I loved every day. I applied to Johnson & Wales University, the Culinary Institute of America, and the University of Washington (to please my parents). In the end, I chose to attend Johnson & Wales University in Denver, Colorado, and haven’t looked back since.
Food became my life. I earned a culinary degree and worked in a variety of foodservice establishments including a bar and grill, a catering company, a sandwich shop, and a fine dining restaurant in a boutique hotel. I loved reading about cooking, watching other people cook, and experimenting in the kitchen. I would spend hours poring over beautiful cookbooks in the library and dreaming of dishes to serve in my future restaurant.
I had gone from trying to be the person other people thought I should be to being the person I actually was. All of a sudden I was getting straight A’s, whereas in high school I had done just ok. I was away from my comfort zone and was allowed to make decisions on my own, without the influence of my parents or peers.
One of those decisions was to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in nutrition. I had realized that I didn’t want to succeed in life by myself; I wanted the success of others to determine my success. I wanted to show people the power that food has over every aspect of their life; that their mental, physical, and emotional well-being are all influenced by the foods they choose to eat. I also wanted to dispel the myth that healthy food tastes like cardboard. So, I started teaching Operation Frontline classes (six week food and nutrition cooking courses that are targeted at low income families) and got involved with Nutrition Society (a campus organization whose purpose is to spread the word about nutrition to the community). Everyone loves to eat good food, and to be able to offer food to people that tastes good and makes them healthier is one of the most rewarding things I can think of.
So just how important is a sack lunch? Its one thing to be able to eat lunch and even a privilege to decide not to eat lunch, but it’s a whole different issue when someone does not have the means to eat at all. There are millions of people in this country that can’t afford to eat a Chipotle burrito or even to pack a lunch from home. For whatever reason (and there are many) there are people that live in the most bountiful, powerful country in the world that didn’t eat lunch today. Or dinner. Or breakfast. Worst of all, they probably didn’t have any food to feed their children either.
When asked to organize a Nutrition Society service project in December, I decided that I didn’t want to sort food at the food bank or host a canned goods drive. I wanted to give sack lunches directly to people that really needed it. With the economy taking a hit the last couple years, the number of beggars on Denver’s street corners has grown tremendously. So with a hundred dollars I went to the grocery store and bought enough loaves of whole wheat bread, natural peanut butter, jelly, vegetables, fruit, and pretzels to make eighty sack lunches. I invited Nutrition Society members to help make the lunches one Saturday morning and within an hour we had managed to make 96 lunches. I am proud to say that these lunches didn’t contain preservatives, corn syrup, or saturated fat. They were nutritionally balanced, hearty, and cost only a little more than $1 each.
We got into a couple cars and headed out to distribute our goods. Once my car got downtown, we saw our first “victim” on Speer Boulevard. Bobby, one of the members of our group, jumped out of the car and sprinted to an older man sitting on the corner near the Convention Center. Before giving the man the sack, Bobby explained who he was and shook the man’s hand. He handed him the lunch and sprinted back to the car just as the light was turning green. The homeless man grinned a toothless smile and waved to us, shouting his thanks. For the next hour and a half we drove around downtown Denver, ambushing people with free food and thumbs ups. Not one person turned us down, and all were grateful for the lunches.
That day was one of the highlights of my college experience, one that I will never forget. The feeling of giving someone a wholesome meal at a time of day when most soup kitchens aren’t open and their last meal was hours ago is something like none other. I hope to always be someone who spread the word about healing eating, and an advocate for those who don’t have food to eat at all. The saying “all I really needed to know I learned in kindergarten” is so true, and the importance of a sack lunch is definitely part of that.
Simple Sack Lunch
Cutting and bagging your own vegetables and pretzels saves a lot of money and doesn’t take too much time. This recipe makes one lunch, but making lunches for the whole week saves time.
Ingredients:
2 slices whole wheat bread
1 tbsp natural peanut butter (look at the label for ones without hydrogenated oils,
sugar, or corn syrup)
1 tbsp jam (again, avoid corn syrup)
1 each carrot, whole
1 rib celery
1 cup pretzels
1 each apple
Directions:
1. Spread one piece of the bread with the peanut butter and the other piece with the jam. Sandwich the slices together, and cut down the center on a diagonal to make two triangles. Place the sandwich in a bag.
2. Wash the carrot and the celery. Peel the carrot and cut both the carrot and the celery into sticks. Place the vegetables in a bag.
3. Put the pretzels in a bag.
4. Wash and dry the apple.
5. Put everything in a paper, plastic, or reusable lunch box to enjoy at lunchtime.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Share Our Strength: Conference of Leaders
On a bright November morning in Washington D.C.’s Common Good City Farm, I walked through the fields with glee. Spicy mint, petite carrots, green tomatoes, and pumpkins, oh my! As I was put to work clipping bright greens with a pair of garden shears, I thought of the satisfying taste of Southern-style collard greens with smoky ham hock or tender Swiss chard sautéed with pine nuts and raisins. I’ve always been fortunate enough to have access to fresh fruits and vegetables, but as I found out that sunny day in the garden, many people are not. Common Good City Farm is an urban farm and education center growing food for low-income residents in Washington, DC and providing educational opportunities for all people that help increase food security, improved health, and environmental sustainability. As the farm’s co-founder, Liz Falk spoke about their mission, I began to realize the importance and implications of access to fresh produce and nutrition education.
That morning wasn’t the first time I had thought about significant role that nutrition plays in our communities’ health. I am a volunteer and advisory board member for the non-profit organization Operation Frontline, whose mission is to teach those with limited resources to make healthy food choices. Operation Frontline is a program of Share Our Strength, whose mission is to end childhood hunger through nutrition education and increased access to food resources by 2015. Annually, Share Our Strength holds its’ Conference of Leaders to bring together hunger advocates, government representatives, volunteers, and industry sponsors to discuss efforts across the nation to end childhood hunger. I was lucky enough to be chosen through an essay contest to attend the conference in Washington D.C., this past November 6-9.
Working in the farm to pick vegetables was one of the more hands-on ways I learned about hunger issues that weekend, but I heard from many people who are working on the frontlines to end hunger everyday. I listened to professionals speak on a variety of topics including changing the way kids eat at schools, how to increase access to produce through urban farming, the hunger-obesity paradox, and many more. I met low income moms struggling to feed their children and stay off the streets. I heard elementary school teachers narrate stories of students who couldn’t focus long enough to learn anything because of their growling tummies.
I was appalled to find out that there is more than enough food produced in this country to feed everyone living in it, and the fact that children go hungry is completely unnecessary. Over 12 million kids, that’s one 1 in 6, is at risk of going hungry. Nutrient deficiencies sustained during childhood have severe health consequences. In the short term, they can result in weaker immune systems, aggressive behavior, and impaired academic performance. In the long term, they can result in cognitive delays, heart disease, and diabetes. The success of whole communities is at stake when the nutrition of their children is compromised.
Coming home from such a powerful experience was difficult. It’s hard to sit still, knowing there is so much work to be done. I was overwhelmed with emotion, anger, and excitement, knowing I had to be a part of a solution so desperately needed. However, my passion for community work and nutrition education has been reignited and I feel ready to get my hands dirty.
That morning wasn’t the first time I had thought about significant role that nutrition plays in our communities’ health. I am a volunteer and advisory board member for the non-profit organization Operation Frontline, whose mission is to teach those with limited resources to make healthy food choices. Operation Frontline is a program of Share Our Strength, whose mission is to end childhood hunger through nutrition education and increased access to food resources by 2015. Annually, Share Our Strength holds its’ Conference of Leaders to bring together hunger advocates, government representatives, volunteers, and industry sponsors to discuss efforts across the nation to end childhood hunger. I was lucky enough to be chosen through an essay contest to attend the conference in Washington D.C., this past November 6-9.
Working in the farm to pick vegetables was one of the more hands-on ways I learned about hunger issues that weekend, but I heard from many people who are working on the frontlines to end hunger everyday. I listened to professionals speak on a variety of topics including changing the way kids eat at schools, how to increase access to produce through urban farming, the hunger-obesity paradox, and many more. I met low income moms struggling to feed their children and stay off the streets. I heard elementary school teachers narrate stories of students who couldn’t focus long enough to learn anything because of their growling tummies.
I was appalled to find out that there is more than enough food produced in this country to feed everyone living in it, and the fact that children go hungry is completely unnecessary. Over 12 million kids, that’s one 1 in 6, is at risk of going hungry. Nutrient deficiencies sustained during childhood have severe health consequences. In the short term, they can result in weaker immune systems, aggressive behavior, and impaired academic performance. In the long term, they can result in cognitive delays, heart disease, and diabetes. The success of whole communities is at stake when the nutrition of their children is compromised.
Coming home from such a powerful experience was difficult. It’s hard to sit still, knowing there is so much work to be done. I was overwhelmed with emotion, anger, and excitement, knowing I had to be a part of a solution so desperately needed. However, my passion for community work and nutrition education has been reignited and I feel ready to get my hands dirty.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Ode to the Omelet
Omelets are a special food. I am hard-pressed to think of another dish made of so few ingredients that is as complex and delicious as the omelet. A perfect one is moist and creamy on the inside, tasting purely of butter and eggs. Firm and smooth on the outside, an even hue of sunny yellow, and should be able to stand alone, with only a grind of black pepper to freckle it. It should also be able to stand up to other embellishments, like roasted asparagus, fines herbs, or melty cheese. A chef can assess a cooks' skill based on his ability to cook an omelet. Can't say that about a frittata, can you?
Omelets can be dolled up with caviar and Mimosas, or dressed down with cheddar and buttered toast. Like the little black dress, they are timeless and great for every occasion. Before you start to think I am a lobbyist for the Egg Farmers of America, I will point out that you could cook an egg ten other ways and it still wouldn’t have the same mystique of an omelet.
Although a perfect omelet is easy to imagine, to actually encounter one is a fanciful idea.
In my opinion, there is an omelet identity crisis breaking out across the nation. The omelet has turned into a pizza-like device, serving solely to showcase superfluous toppings. Only so much sausage, mushrooms, peppers, pesto, avocado, bacon, and cheese can cover up the truth: a good omelet takes skill to make. And if you are only ordering omelets in restaurants, how are you ever going to clock enough omelet hours to make one at home with ease? You have to get to know your range, where the hot and cool spots are. You have to season your pan, never washing it. You have to feel confident enough to swirl the eggs around the pan with grace, and the sense to know when to let the omelet cook without any further prodding.
Now, before you back away in fear never to touch an omelet pan again, hear me out. Omelets aren’t hard to make, they just take practice. Lots of it. So why not start now, and throw a dinner party where the omelet is the star of the show? Eggs are inexpensive, so you can afford to make a lot of practice omelets before anyone even arrives! Set out some other nibbles for people as they wait their turn for an omelet, and find a guest to pour the Mimosas. Your friends will ooh and aah as they watch their dinner be prepared right in front of them and you will never have so much fun at your own dinner party.
Le Menu
Serves 8
Pomegranate Mimosas
Roquefort Gougères
Fig Marmalade and Brie Toasts
Omelets
Fines Herbes Salad
Lemon Pine Nut Cookies
Pomegranate Mimosas
A refreshingly tart twist on the classic Mimosa, this bubbly drink pairs well with Gougères.
Makes 8
Ingredients:
2 cups pomegranate juice
1 cup orange juice
½ cup orange flavored liquor (such as Cointreau)
1 750 ml bottle demi-sec Champagne or sparkling wine
1 pomegranate, seeds only
1. Combine the juices and liquor and chill.
2. To serve, slowly add the wine to the juices and stir. Pour into champagne flutes and float a few pomegranate seeds on top for garnish.
Roquefort Gougères
These little cheese puffs are so addictive, you might want to double the recipe!
Makes 24
Ingredients:
1 cup water 4 large eggs
¼ cup unsalted butter 4 oz Roquefort cheese, crumbled
½ tsp salt cracked black pepper
1 cup all purpose flour
1. Preheat the oven to 400° F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicon baking mats.
2. Bring the water, butter, and salt to a boil in a sauce pan. Add the flour all at once, stirring vigorously. Cook the mixture until it forms a ball, pulling away from the sides of the pan.
3. Transfer the dough to an electric mixer and cool for 10 minutes.
4. Beat the eggs in one at a time, fully incorporating after each addition. Fold in the cheese and pepper, and put the mixture in a piping bag or plastic zip lock bag.
5. Cut the tip of a corner of the plastic bag (if using) and pipe tablespoon sized mounds spaced three inches apart onto the baking sheet. Use a wet fingertip to lightly press down peaks in the dough. You can freeze the dough at this point, placing the Gougères in a plastic bag once frozen.
6. Bake the Gougères 20-30 minutes (depending on your oven) rotating the pans halfway through. If your dough was frozen, don’t thaw them, just bake as is. Serve warm or room temperature.
Fig Marmalade and Brie Toasts
These toasts are a perfect combination of gooey cheese, crunchy toast, and sweet figs.
Serves 8
Ingredients:
1 cup sugar 1 cups dried figs, chopped
1 cup water 1 thin baguette
2 tbsp lemon juice 1 wheel (7-8 oz) ripe Brie cheese
1. Bring the sugar and water to a boil in a sauce pan. Add the lemon juice and chopped figs and simmer 30-40 minutes, until thick and syrupy. Cool and refrigerate until needed.
2. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Slice the baguette on a bias into thin rounds. Lay out on a cooking sheet and toast until light golden brown. The toasts can be saved in an airtight container for a few hours before serving.
3. To serve, slice the Brie cheese thinly, and divide the slices among the toasts. Bake until the cheese has melted. Top each toast with a bit of the fig marmalade, and serve immediately.
The Omelet
Ask each guest to choose their two favorite fillings, more and the omelet gets lost.
Serves one
Ingredients:
2 large eggs Fillings such as: smoked salmon, proscuitto,
pinch salt goat cheese, crème fraîche, cheddar, sautéed
1 teaspoon unsalted butter mushrooms, roasted asparagus, torn basil
1. Beat the eggs in a small bowl with the salt until thoroughly combined.
2. Heat a nonstick 8 inch skillet over medium high heat, and add the butter. When the butter is melted, pour in the eggs. Wait a moment, and the begin rapidly swirling the pan and using a rubber spatula to break up the egg clumps until the mixture is slightly thickened. Then use the spatula to lift up the cooked egg so the uncooked egg runs to the edges. The omelet should still be glistening on top, but not runny, about 15 seconds longer. This is when you would sprinkle about a tablespoon of each filling onto the center third of the omelet (less is more here).
3. Turn off the heat and run a spatula around the outside of the omelet to loosen it and clean up the edges. Using the spatula, fold the third nearest you to the center. Then jerk the pan so the omelet moves to the far edge of the pan (away from you), and you can slip it onto a plate, folding it over itself into a neat bundle. Serve immediately.
Fines Herbes Salad
This beautiful green salad is flavored with a classic vinaigrette and fines herbes, the very French mix of chervil, chives, parsley, and tarragon.
Serves 8
Ingredients:
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard 4 tbsp chervil, leaves only
¼ cup red wine vinegar 4 tbsp chives, cut into 1 inch lengths
1 pinch each sugar and salt 4 tbsp flat leaf parsley, leaves only
cracked black pepper 4 tbsp tarragon, leaves only
¾ cup extra virgin olive oil 15 cups washed lettuce greens.
1. Add the mustard, vinegar, sugar, salt, pepper, and olive oil to a jar with a screw top lid. Shake vigorously until the dressing is emulsified, then taste the dressing on a piece of lettuce. Season accordingly.
2. Right before serving, shake the dressing in the bottle to re-emulsify, then drizzle over the greens and herbs. Toss lightly to combine and serve immediately.
Lemon Pine Nut Cookies
These delicate cookies are a perfect ending to this elegant meal.
Makes 30 cookies
Ingredients:
¼ cup fresh lemon juice ½ tsp salt
zest from 3 lemons 1 ½ cups sugar
8 oz unsalted butter 1 large egg
2 cups all purpose flour 2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp baking powder ½ cup toasted pine nuts
1. Preheat the oven to 375° F. Melt 4 oz (one stick) of the butter in a sauce pan and cook until the butter solids begin to brown and become fragrant. Add the lemon juice and zest immediately to stop the cooking (you don’t want to burn the butter).
2. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl.
3. Cream the remaining 4 oz (one stick) butter with the one cup of the sugar until light in color and fluffy. Add the egg, vanilla, and lemon butter. Once thoroughly combined, add the flour mixture and pine nuts.
4. Roll tablespoons of the dough into balls, and dip in the remaining sugar to coat. Place the balls 2 inches apart on greased cookie sheets. Use a glass bottom to flatten the cookies to ¼ inch thickness.
5. Bake 10-12 minutes, then cool on a wire rack. The cookies can be stored up to a week in an airtight container.
Omelets can be dolled up with caviar and Mimosas, or dressed down with cheddar and buttered toast. Like the little black dress, they are timeless and great for every occasion. Before you start to think I am a lobbyist for the Egg Farmers of America, I will point out that you could cook an egg ten other ways and it still wouldn’t have the same mystique of an omelet.
Although a perfect omelet is easy to imagine, to actually encounter one is a fanciful idea.
In my opinion, there is an omelet identity crisis breaking out across the nation. The omelet has turned into a pizza-like device, serving solely to showcase superfluous toppings. Only so much sausage, mushrooms, peppers, pesto, avocado, bacon, and cheese can cover up the truth: a good omelet takes skill to make. And if you are only ordering omelets in restaurants, how are you ever going to clock enough omelet hours to make one at home with ease? You have to get to know your range, where the hot and cool spots are. You have to season your pan, never washing it. You have to feel confident enough to swirl the eggs around the pan with grace, and the sense to know when to let the omelet cook without any further prodding.
Now, before you back away in fear never to touch an omelet pan again, hear me out. Omelets aren’t hard to make, they just take practice. Lots of it. So why not start now, and throw a dinner party where the omelet is the star of the show? Eggs are inexpensive, so you can afford to make a lot of practice omelets before anyone even arrives! Set out some other nibbles for people as they wait their turn for an omelet, and find a guest to pour the Mimosas. Your friends will ooh and aah as they watch their dinner be prepared right in front of them and you will never have so much fun at your own dinner party.
Le Menu
Serves 8
Pomegranate Mimosas
Roquefort Gougères
Fig Marmalade and Brie Toasts
Omelets
Fines Herbes Salad
Lemon Pine Nut Cookies
Pomegranate Mimosas
A refreshingly tart twist on the classic Mimosa, this bubbly drink pairs well with Gougères.
Makes 8
Ingredients:
2 cups pomegranate juice
1 cup orange juice
½ cup orange flavored liquor (such as Cointreau)
1 750 ml bottle demi-sec Champagne or sparkling wine
1 pomegranate, seeds only
1. Combine the juices and liquor and chill.
2. To serve, slowly add the wine to the juices and stir. Pour into champagne flutes and float a few pomegranate seeds on top for garnish.
Roquefort Gougères
These little cheese puffs are so addictive, you might want to double the recipe!
Makes 24
Ingredients:
1 cup water 4 large eggs
¼ cup unsalted butter 4 oz Roquefort cheese, crumbled
½ tsp salt cracked black pepper
1 cup all purpose flour
1. Preheat the oven to 400° F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicon baking mats.
2. Bring the water, butter, and salt to a boil in a sauce pan. Add the flour all at once, stirring vigorously. Cook the mixture until it forms a ball, pulling away from the sides of the pan.
3. Transfer the dough to an electric mixer and cool for 10 minutes.
4. Beat the eggs in one at a time, fully incorporating after each addition. Fold in the cheese and pepper, and put the mixture in a piping bag or plastic zip lock bag.
5. Cut the tip of a corner of the plastic bag (if using) and pipe tablespoon sized mounds spaced three inches apart onto the baking sheet. Use a wet fingertip to lightly press down peaks in the dough. You can freeze the dough at this point, placing the Gougères in a plastic bag once frozen.
6. Bake the Gougères 20-30 minutes (depending on your oven) rotating the pans halfway through. If your dough was frozen, don’t thaw them, just bake as is. Serve warm or room temperature.
Fig Marmalade and Brie Toasts
These toasts are a perfect combination of gooey cheese, crunchy toast, and sweet figs.
Serves 8
Ingredients:
1 cup sugar 1 cups dried figs, chopped
1 cup water 1 thin baguette
2 tbsp lemon juice 1 wheel (7-8 oz) ripe Brie cheese
1. Bring the sugar and water to a boil in a sauce pan. Add the lemon juice and chopped figs and simmer 30-40 minutes, until thick and syrupy. Cool and refrigerate until needed.
2. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Slice the baguette on a bias into thin rounds. Lay out on a cooking sheet and toast until light golden brown. The toasts can be saved in an airtight container for a few hours before serving.
3. To serve, slice the Brie cheese thinly, and divide the slices among the toasts. Bake until the cheese has melted. Top each toast with a bit of the fig marmalade, and serve immediately.
The Omelet
Ask each guest to choose their two favorite fillings, more and the omelet gets lost.
Serves one
Ingredients:
2 large eggs Fillings such as: smoked salmon, proscuitto,
pinch salt goat cheese, crème fraîche, cheddar, sautéed
1 teaspoon unsalted butter mushrooms, roasted asparagus, torn basil
1. Beat the eggs in a small bowl with the salt until thoroughly combined.
2. Heat a nonstick 8 inch skillet over medium high heat, and add the butter. When the butter is melted, pour in the eggs. Wait a moment, and the begin rapidly swirling the pan and using a rubber spatula to break up the egg clumps until the mixture is slightly thickened. Then use the spatula to lift up the cooked egg so the uncooked egg runs to the edges. The omelet should still be glistening on top, but not runny, about 15 seconds longer. This is when you would sprinkle about a tablespoon of each filling onto the center third of the omelet (less is more here).
3. Turn off the heat and run a spatula around the outside of the omelet to loosen it and clean up the edges. Using the spatula, fold the third nearest you to the center. Then jerk the pan so the omelet moves to the far edge of the pan (away from you), and you can slip it onto a plate, folding it over itself into a neat bundle. Serve immediately.
Fines Herbes Salad
This beautiful green salad is flavored with a classic vinaigrette and fines herbes, the very French mix of chervil, chives, parsley, and tarragon.
Serves 8
Ingredients:
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard 4 tbsp chervil, leaves only
¼ cup red wine vinegar 4 tbsp chives, cut into 1 inch lengths
1 pinch each sugar and salt 4 tbsp flat leaf parsley, leaves only
cracked black pepper 4 tbsp tarragon, leaves only
¾ cup extra virgin olive oil 15 cups washed lettuce greens.
1. Add the mustard, vinegar, sugar, salt, pepper, and olive oil to a jar with a screw top lid. Shake vigorously until the dressing is emulsified, then taste the dressing on a piece of lettuce. Season accordingly.
2. Right before serving, shake the dressing in the bottle to re-emulsify, then drizzle over the greens and herbs. Toss lightly to combine and serve immediately.
Lemon Pine Nut Cookies
These delicate cookies are a perfect ending to this elegant meal.
Makes 30 cookies
Ingredients:
¼ cup fresh lemon juice ½ tsp salt
zest from 3 lemons 1 ½ cups sugar
8 oz unsalted butter 1 large egg
2 cups all purpose flour 2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp baking powder ½ cup toasted pine nuts
1. Preheat the oven to 375° F. Melt 4 oz (one stick) of the butter in a sauce pan and cook until the butter solids begin to brown and become fragrant. Add the lemon juice and zest immediately to stop the cooking (you don’t want to burn the butter).
2. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl.
3. Cream the remaining 4 oz (one stick) butter with the one cup of the sugar until light in color and fluffy. Add the egg, vanilla, and lemon butter. Once thoroughly combined, add the flour mixture and pine nuts.
4. Roll tablespoons of the dough into balls, and dip in the remaining sugar to coat. Place the balls 2 inches apart on greased cookie sheets. Use a glass bottom to flatten the cookies to ¼ inch thickness.
5. Bake 10-12 minutes, then cool on a wire rack. The cookies can be stored up to a week in an airtight container.
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