A Week of … Grilling Season
A gas grill is truly indispensable for anyone who wants to cook at home more often. It is an easy-to-clean, easy-to-control tool that opens up a world of dinner and entertaining possibilities, especially during the warm summer months. I have a bit of a “dinner formula” during the grilling season that is loosely comprised of three parts: something grilled, something steamed in the microwave or roasted in the oven, and something cooked on the stove.
Grilled Flank Steak + Steamed Broccoli with Garlic + Creamy Parmesan Orzo = Dinner
Sesame Chicken Noodle Casserole + Stir Fried Sugar Snap Peas + Grilled Pineapple = Dinner & Dessert fit for company
You get the idea.
When I plan my meals for the week, I try to remember the hectic rush hour feeling. I don’t enjoy the stress of watching multiple pots and pans on the stove. If you only have one oven, cooking two components of a meal can sometimes feel like organizing international trade agreements with the various cooking times, oven temperatures, and rack placement.
This zingy Chicken with Lemon and Oregano needs nothing more than a crunchy Greek salad as an accompaniment. Add the Spicy Hummus with Grilled Pita and you’re ready to open the wine and invite some friends to join you for an impromptu dinner party.
Is your crowd more traditional? Pick up simple steaks that need nothing more than salt and pepper (ask your butcher what’s best for the grill if you are unsure) and add this slightly fancier veggie side of Grilled Asparagus with Barbecue Butter.
Thinking heart-healthy? Try Grilled Fish Kebabs with Cherry Tomatoes alongside a brown rice salad with crunchy cucumbers and garden fresh herbs.
Summer Grillin’
- Chicken with Lemon and Oregano (Martha Stewart)
- Grilled Flank Steak (Epicurious)
- Spicy Hummus with Grilled Pita (Food Network)
- Grilled Asparagus with Barbecue Butter (Food Network)
- Grilled Fish Kebabs with Cherry Tomatoes (Martha Stewart)
- Rum Spiked Grilled Pineapple with Toasted Coconut (Cooking Light)
You can even make dessert on the grill! Be sure to clean the grates well before you grill fruit, and then try Rum Spiked Grilled Pineapple with Toasted Coconut. Okay, so it’s not a chocolate layer cake, but it’s a little something sweet that is sure to satisfy the dessert lover at your table.
Read more by Robin Horrigan
Robin Horrigan writes the column Cooking from the Carpool Lane. She lives on Boston’s south shore and is a stay at home Mom to Ryan, seven, and Maegan, three. Her fascination with cooking sprouted from watching Julia Child cook on a little black and white TV; Robin helped her Mom in the kitchen until she was old enough to ask Santa for her very own copy of The Joy of Cooking. She experiments with all kinds of cooking and baking, from quick weeknight dinners and easy cookies to long simmering weekend stews and complicated, fancy desserts. Ryan thinks if his Mom will ever be famous, it will be “for her awesome cookies.” Her friends say it will be for the cocktails. Either way, if she’s not doing volunteer work or shopping for shoes, you’ll probably find her in the kitchen.
Photo from Martha Stewart
Did you know that vegetables are grown in soil? Real, actual, dirty soil? With like… dirt in it?
Me, either.
Until now, even my most expensive, organic vegetables have made their way to my house with few traces of the stuff clinging to their polished, unblemished skins. I’ve always been good about washing away the potentially hazardous germs, pesticides, and other no-see-ums, but this summer I have been making actual mud in my sink, and it is glorious!
Pulling up the driveway into Pakeen Farm every Tuesday is a delight for my senses. The sound of my tires rolling over the gravel, the sights of the ugly, knobby-skinned vegetables displayed on rustic wooden boxes in the smelly barn, the smiling face of the staff member that greets my children and me–all fill me with joy. Pakeen is the polar opposite of the rest of our clean and uber-organized life: it’s dirty, it’s rustic, and stinky in places. Shockingly, I love it all. Apparently radishes come in all kinds of colors, not just the pinky-red ones I find prewashed and trimmed in bags at the market. Carrots are bumpy, hairy, and just plain weird looking. I’ve found a few that would make a great fake witch’s nose for Halloween. Along with the dirt, sometimes my salad greens bring pine needles, grass, or an inchworm for company; my salad spinner has never gotten such a workout. The most important thing? It is all so much more crunchy and delicious than what I am used to.
We have met one strange and unusual character in the cast: the garlic scape (pictured). It looks like a cross between a fiddlehead and a scallion, but the flavor is garlic through and through. My research tells me that garlic scapes are the part of the plant that eventually develops into the garlic bulb’s white papery skin. Before it gets to that stage, it has some terrific uses: I pulverized it into a chunky pesto with pine nuts, olive oil, and cheese, and the farm gave out a delectable recipe for a White Bean and Garlic Scape Dip that was perfect with pita chips.
So far I have been able to make use of just about everything–except the rhubarb, which is diced and waiting for me in my freezer. Apparently kale is a spring crop, but it is normally something I would look to buy in the late fall when the winds are turning blustery and we want a hearty soup. And so, a slightly lighter Italian soup called Minestra (using kale and spinach instead of the more traditional escarole) went straight into the freezer for when a summer cold might hit our house.
The early weeks were a little rough because the haul was just a tad too green for us. Arugula, mature spinach, bok choy, kale, and mustard greens made up the bulk of our take in June, and I was running out of appealing ideas for how to cook up of all this leafy stuff. It took me almost an hour each week to wash and prepare the greens for storage, which was a huge drag. If I served sauteed spinach to my husband one more time, I think he might have complained to the management…but some happy accidents occurred as a result of all of this green food in the house. Penne with Wilted Spinach and White Beans was born out of another week’s worth of spinach and an extra can of cannellini beans left from the trip to the market for the Minestra ingredients the week before. Bruschetta with Fontina and Greens makes a lovely appetizer with a glass of chilled white wine.
Veggies, please, hold the dirt:
- Orzo and Zucchini Salad (Martha Stewart)
- Penne with Wilted Spinach and White Beans
- White Bean and Garlic Scape Dip (Pakeen Farm)
- Bruschetta with Fontina and Greens (Food Network/Giada de Laurentiis)
- Minestra (Food Network/Rachael Ray)
- Four Bean Salad
- Coconut Rice Salad
July’s vegetables have been much more up our alley. Orzo and Zucchini Salad makes a lovely meal in and of itself, or alongside grilled chicken, steaks or fish. Coconut Rice Salad is a great way to use up scallions, herbs, and cucumber; add tropical fruits and some grilled shrimp skewers and you’ll practically feel as though you are on vacation! I make a Four Bean Salad with blanched green and wax beans combined with drained and rinsed kidney and pinto beans, dressed with a light vinaigrette and accented with more of summer’s best herbs. People have been chasing me around the potluck table wanting to know “what is in that bean salad!” Now you’re in on the secret.
The best thing so far? Watching my son snag a purple bean right out of the basket in the barn and crunch down without worrying that it was weird looking… or realizing that my daughter has finished the pint of tiny sweet strawberries by the time we’ve pulled into the driveway.
Almost every week there is an unexpected and lovely gift to enchant me: a huge, scented peony, half a dozen rich and delicious eggs, overflowing buckets of dill, mint, and lemon balm, a rustic potted plant of pineapple sage that fills my kitchen with a gorgeous fragrance. We’re hooked on the farm, and next summer I’ll know better what to expect, which will satisfy the obsessive planner in me. But as organized and antiseptic as I can be sometimes, I’ll take these dirty veggies any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
Read more by Robin Horrigan
Robin Horrigan writes the column Cooking from the Carpool Lane. She lives on Boston’s south shore and is a stay at home Mom to Ryan, seven, and Maegan, three. Her fascination with cooking sprouted from watching Julia Child cook on a little black and white TV; Robin helped her Mom in the kitchen until she was old enough to ask Santa for her very own copy of The Joy of Cooking. She experiments with all kinds of cooking and baking, from quick weeknight dinners and easy cookies to long simmering weekend stews and complicated, fancy desserts. Ryan thinks if his Mom will ever be famous, it will be “for her awesome cookies.” Her friends say it will be for the cocktails. Either way, if she’s not doing volunteer work or shopping for shoes, you’ll probably find her in the kitchen.
Taste Test: A Trio of S’Mores
What comes to mind when you think of summer? Quick, take a few seconds to think of a few images. The beach, hot nights, cold drinks, barbeques on the back patio,… s’mores?
I can’t get through summer without a few rounds of these delightful little marshmallow-chocolate-cracker sandwiches, and this summer I have had the pleasure to introduce my toddler to her first s’mores as well. S’mores are one of life’s most delicious treats.
But this summer I wanted to see how far I could push the limits of the traditional s’more. It started with an innocuous swap of Hershey’s Special Dark for the standard milk chocolate, because my husband has a minor addiction to the fruit of the cacao seed… and I can’t say I’m not addicted either. But for now we’ll blame it on him.
And then we decided to take it a step further. I rallied my testing troops (which included two young boys with discerning palates) on a hot summer night last week. We put together a s’morgasbord of indulgent treats to smash with graham crackers and toasted marshmallows. One variation was the traditional graham and marshmallow, but with a mini Reese’s peanut butter cup in place of the Hershey’s. The second was the traditional chocolate and marshmallow, but with two ‘Nilla wafers as the sandwich.
The results?
Traditional S’Mores: Always the winner. Among other reasons, because the chocolate fits perfectly on the graham cracker, and the marshmallow ratio is perfect. One of the kids proclaimed, “Regular is my favorite!”
Peanut Butter Cup S’Mores: “Very, very good! Really liked the peanut butter cup filling more than the plain chocolate.” Overall, people loved the flavor of the peanut butter cup and most would choose this as a close second. One of the kids thought it tasted like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and another thought it resembled a chocolate chip cookie. One taster complained that the peanut butter cup didn’t adequately cover the graham cracker; another more inventive taster solved the problem of the candy-to-cookie ratio by breaking the graham cracker in half (“I’ll have half a sandwich, please.”).
‘Nilla Wafer S’Mores: Most tasters found the marshmallow-to-cookie ratio too high, but loved the crunchiness of the cookie. The kids found it to be a perfect size for holding. ”Also very good; I like the crunchiness and flavor of the ‘Nilla wafer, but overall I think I would choose graham cracker.” “Surprisingly good! The firm ‘Nilla wafer is a nice change; it is very marshmallow heavy.”
More S’Mores recipes on Plummelo
Have you ever tinkered with the traditional s’mores recipe? Give it a try and let us know what you think.
Tim and I tend to approach special occasions like everything else in our lives: on deadline. Which helps to explain why, for the past week or so, every time it occurred to me that our first wedding anniversary was looming, and that I might want to wrack the ol’ noggin for some gift ideas… well, I’d immediately begin thinking about how to handle the fifteen-pound watermelon that I made the poor guy haul home.
We won’t be celebrating one year with a swish dinner or even stale cake, that much I know. And if there’s any paper to exchange, it’ll have to be limited to crinkling the Sunday broadsheets over the cell phone lines, cross-country.
I know, I know. Sacré bleu! First I ditched the guy for half a year when he came to D.C. for the new gig. Now I’m about to spend our anniversary in Dallas huddled up with a bunch of journalists and, the worse offense as I understand it, rooting for a crappy American League team.
The watermelon was Tim’s idea, in a way. We were in Philly for another couple’s wedding, knocking about the Reading Terminal Market. We’d thrown back a full Amish breakfast; soft, buttery pretzels; a scoop or three from the local creamery, and, of course, a cheesesteak, when I insisted upon a pit stop in the cookbook shop, because how often do you come across one of those. Tim predictably picked up a tome on barbecue, and then called me over to check out a recipe for a tasty-looking salad. Cheese and watermelon, of all things.
I don’t buy watermelon. It’s heavy. It’s messy. And I refuse to spend time plucking out its pesky seeds. Sorry, pal.
Of course, I also famously refused to get married. So it’s totally fair to say that stubbornness is a virtue, and bending the rules is human.
Back in D.C. I couldn’t get that intriguing watermelon-cheese pairing off the brain. I thought about tossing some toasted nuts and a few sprigs of fresh herbs into the mix, sloshing a spoonful or two of olive oil and spritzing a bit of acid onto the arrangement. Yes, an utterly perfect union. Hopefully.
We began with a quarter watermelon, several ounces of fresh goat cheese, olive oil, a splash of orange juice and a dash of salt, plus strips of basil. (I wanted some toasted pine nuts but refused to give my grocery store $10 for what looked like only two handfuls.) All in all, a solid start.
On the next night, I cribbed a recipe from the Vermont cheesemonger Angela Miller, who likes to set up watermelon with her crumbly, feta-style Danby cheese, black pepper and — ready for this? — tomatoes. Tim wanted to hate it. I was ready to be surprised myself. By the end, we were practically licking the swirling juices off our plates.
Last night, I was determined to match some balsamic vinegar, more fresh basil and a savory Italian specimen with the last of my pretty pink fifteen-pounder. “Just so you know, I’m not a fan of cold mozzarella with things,” Tim said when he called with his E.T.A. “Oh, really?” I asked. “Well it’s almost eight o’clock. Just so you know, tough luck!”
I could go on, but my husband is urgently texting me from a Congressional testimony, begging me to call the swish restaurant where you must reserve a month in advance, and where we’d like to celebrate the big day…eventually.
Note: You can easily eyeball all the quantities in any of the above-mentioned watermelon salads, to your liking. For about 4 servings from a quarter watermelon, you only need a tablespoon or two of extra-virgin olive oil, and a tablespoon or two of something acidic, like orange juice, or a sultry vinegar. (I’d steer clear of red and white wine varieties.) Herbs give the dish a little extra lift; feel free to experiment. No matter what, you want some salt: either add it by hand or choose a briny cheese. To go by the book, I’d try this version with goat cheese from Food & Wine or this rendering from Food Network. Epicurious has a watermelon and feta salad with even more bells and whistles.
Kristen Hinman writes the column Swine Dining: A City Girl Cooks Country. She used to think the perfect weeknight dinner consisted of an omelette and a glass of wine. OK, she still does. Her husband, on the other hand? Not so much. Luckily, three years of recreational cooking school in Paris and a vast cookbook collection mean she’s never at a loss for ideas. Kristen is a journalist who has lingered in celebrity chefs’ kitchens, nosed over midwestern caviar houses and taken pigs to slaughter–all on the clock. She lives in St. Louis and Washington D.C. and is the winner of two James Beard Foundation Awards for newspaper writing. One day she will wallpaper her pantry with Gourmet magazine covers. Visit Kristen’s website. Photo by Michelle Hudgins.
A Toast to French Toast
I’d like to make a toast to French toast.
I wanted to treat my extra-special out-of-town weekend guests to a gourmet breakfast. My lactose-intolerant sister was bringing her family from Chicago, and my vegetarian mom was also in town from Arizona. It’s always a pleasure cooking for them, but never easy to find a recipe that meets all the requirements: no meat, no dairy, and kid-friendly. The week they were coming I riffled through my recipe ideas (mentally, electronically, and the old-fashioned way–my recipe cards) and realized I haven’t gotten out of my egg casserole rut… ever. It was time to branch out.
I was stuck for a moment, but then I remembered a recipe I had recently seen on Epicurious for Baked Blueberry Pecan French Toast. I skimmed through it and realized I could do this–and it fit the bill, if I substituted soy milk for regular. It was so much less complicated than it seemed upon first glance–to assemble the night before and bake for just half an hour in the morning… what’s easier than that? Okay, I sound like Ina Garten. But really, eliminating the frying pan saves a lot of the mess and cleanup involved in a traditional breakfast.
This recipe was a crowd-pleaser and a cook-pleaser all in one. It was impressive yet homey. I bought a big challah loaf at Trader Joes (so cheap and delicious, and the leftovers are perfect with Nutella) and sliced it about an inch thick, then sliced the pieces in half. I used two 9×13 baking dishes because there was so much bread, and did one with pecans and one without (for the kids). The soy milk turned out to make no difference at all. Most of the reviews said to definitely not skip the blueberry syrup, but I actually found it wasn’t necessary. I did make the blueberry syrup, and served it alongside the plain syrup (Vermont maple, of course), and that was just as good, since there are already so many blueberries in the dish. With a pitcher of orange juice and a side of sausage links, breakfast is served.
Also note, the Creme Brulee French Toast below is incredible. My next guests will be getting that one… if I don’t eat the whole pan before they arrive.
Breakfast Is Served: French Toast Ideas
- Classic French Toast (Martha Stewart)
- Baked Blueberry Pecan French Toast (Epicurious)
- French Toast Kabobs (Martha Stewart)
- Creme Brulee French Toast (Food Network)
- Banana Stuffed French Toast, “Ultimate Style” (Food Network)
- Savory French Toast BLT (Martha Stewart)
- More french toast ideas on Plummelo
My parents have been known to frequent certain establishments based solely on the bartender’s ability to whip up a Bloody Mary with just the right amount of heat and spice. When they make them at home, Dad prides himself on only being able to get six cocktails out of a bottle of tabasco sauce–that’s hot! Add a couple of green olives, a nice, tall celery stock and a jumbo shrimp cocktail or two hanging over the side of his glass and it’s practically a light lunch. My mother-in-law also likes this drink, and sometimes treats herself to a Virgin Mary (all the goodies except the vodka) in the afternoon for an extra serving of vegetables, and, well, just because she likes it.
Here is an excellent basic recipe for a Bloody Mary from Ina Garten, but there are endless variations to this drink. Some folks are fond of mixers with spices already included–just add vodka and enjoy. Mixers range from smoky to gingery sweet. Tomato juice purists war against V8 fans in their claim of “the perfect bloody.” The recent craze I have noticed on restaurant cocktail menus is the use of Clamato, which is tomato juice infused with clam juice. You can swap lime and lemon to find your perfect combination, or try Absolut Peppar vodka for a really spicy drink.
Like many other famed drinks and dishes, no one really knows the exact origin of the name of the Bloody Mary. Some say it was named after an establishment called the Bucket of Blood in Chicago in the ’20s. Others say it was named for a character in the Rogers and Hammerstein musical, South Pacific. Still others insist it was named after Bloody Mary Tudor, and English queen in the 1500s notorious for her merciless prosecution of Protestants in England. And dozens of other theories persist. But no matter where the Bloody Mary got its name, it’s a delightful drink to serve at brunch or any time you feel like it.
Read more by Robin Horrigan
Robin Horrigan writes the column Cooking from the Carpool Lane. She lives on Boston’s south shore and is a stay at home Mom to Ryan, seven, and Maegan, three. Her fascination with cooking sprouted from watching Julia Child cook on a little black and white TV; Robin helped her Mom in the kitchen until she was old enough to ask Santa for her very own copy of The Joy of Cooking. She experiments with all kinds of cooking and baking, from quick weeknight dinners and easy cookies to long simmering weekend stews and complicated, fancy desserts. Ryan thinks if his Mom will ever be famous, it will be “for her awesome cookies.” Her friends say it will be for the cocktails. Either way, if she’s not doing volunteer work or shopping for shoes, you’ll probably find her in the kitchen.
A Week of … Cool and Crunchy Salads
Today I’m ending the dinner rut. This happens more than you’d think. I get stuck on the same old recipes (or non-recipes, just throwing things together), or lately I’ve blamed it on the heat. We order takeout. What, sushi’s healthy! But it breaks the bank. I am constantly scouring the web and drilling friends for new meal ideas to serve to my family.
Recently, a request for salad ideas came across the Plummelo radar (thanks, Melissa Boyd!). So we started hunting. And it has us inspired.
Today is looking to be a scorcher where we are–the kind of day where you want to get your outdoor activities in early and the kind of evening where you want to avoid baking yourself in the kitchen or sweating over the stove. The kind of night where you want to retreat to the patio after dusk with a glass of white that’s been chilling in the fridge. (Maybe even add an ice cube!)
What is the dinner solution for a hot summer night? We’re serving up salad. We found some great ideas. The bonus? You get your fill of fiber-rich, heart healthy veggies. (Okay, some of these salads have a few extra not-so-good-for-the-figure yummies like bacon and cheese, but everything in moderation, right?)
Cool Salads for Summer Nights
- Monday: Fresh Salmon Salad with Chickpeas & Tomatoes (Epicurious)
- Tuesday: Cobb Salad (Food Network)
- Wednesday: Roasted Beet Salad with Arugula, Pistachios & Shaved Pecorino (Food Network)
- Thursday: Warm Goat Cheese Salad with Olive Bread, pictured (Epicurious)
- Friday: Tangy Shrimp Salad with Summer Vegetables (Real Simple)
- Weekend: Steak Salad (Food Network / Giada De Laurentiis)
Photo from Epicurious
This is the second installment of a new column by Robin Horrigan, Cooking from the Carpool Lane.
After a long, harsh winter in New England, there is little I look forward to as much as the overabundance of beautiful, inexpensive fruit that pops up everywhere I look. Farm stands, specialty produce markets, even my boring regular grocery store all of a sudden seem as exciting as Disneyworld. Peaches and berries and melons, oh my!
Let me at that drop-down list of “things to bring” on an electronic invitation to a summer party. Fruit salad, side salad, fruit dessert? Count me in!
I am dying to try this new recipe for Raw Berry Crisp for dessert on a day when I can’t be bothered to turn on the oven. But a tried-and-true “no cook” fruit dessert option is Barefoot Contessa’s Fruit Salad with Limoncello. My two-year-old daughter likes this so much that she actually goes back to serve herself seconds from the bowl. (She picks the bananas out and flings them on the grass–classy, eh?)
Do you hate making pastry, but long for beautiful blueberry confections like I do? This lovely Blueberry Tart is for you and me both.
Last summer I brought home empty dish after empty dish scraped absolutely clean of Oatmeal Cookie Peach Cobbler. If you can peal and slice peaches, you can make this dessert. This is best served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
I’ll let you in on my secret weapon for summer desserts: set up a shortcake bar at your next cookout. The recipes included here are specifically for Chocolate Shortcakes with Bananas and Caramel and Peach Raspberry Shortcakes. I just bake both the chocolate and plain shortcakes and line them up next to mountains of freshly whipped cream and bowls of beautiful seasonal fruit choices. Toss berries or stone fruits with sugar and lemon juice, slice bananas just before serving and leave them plain. Every guest will find something to love – even the calorie-counters, who can just enjoy a bowl of fruit if they choose. You’ll see one person choosing chocolate shortcakes with strawberries and whipped cream alongside another person piling up blueberries and blackberries on traditional shortcakes. It’s a very simple dessert, but I guarantee people will make a fuss over this clever idea.
Nature’s Candy
- Raw Berry Crisp (Whole Foods Market)
- Oatmeal Cookie Peach Cobbler (Cooking Light)
- Blueberry Tart (Real Simple)
- Fruit Salad with Limoncello (Food Network)
- Chocolate Shortcakes with Bananas and Caramel (Cooking Light)
- Peach Raspberry Shortcakes (Food Network/Barefoot Contessa)
Read more by Robin Horrigan
Robin Horrigan writes the column Cooking from the Carpool Lane. She lives on Boston’s south shore and is a stay at home Mom to Ryan, seven, and Maegan, three. Her fascination with cooking sprouted from watching Julia Child cook on a little black and white TV; Robin helped her Mom in the kitchen until she was old enough to ask Santa for her very own copy of The Joy of Cooking. She experiments with all kinds of cooking and baking, from quick weeknight dinners and easy cookies to long simmering weekend stews and complicated, fancy desserts. Ryan thinks if his Mom will ever be famous, it will be “for her awesome cookies.” Her friends say it will be for the cocktails. Either way, if she’s not doing volunteer work or shopping for shoes, you’ll probably find her in the kitchen.
This is the second installment of a new column by Kristen Hinman, Swine Dining: A City Girl Cooks Country.
Here are two things I’ll forever remember about Tim’s homecoming from Iraq a couple years ago: the way he burrowed his head into my neck and hugged me so hard I lost my breath, and the beets I served for dinner.
While he was gone I worked like a lunatic, leaving home early and extending every day’s end with anyone who would keep me from my quiet kitchen. I was a cheater that year, but only on dinner.
As soon as I knew Tim’s team had touched down in the U.S., my menu planning began. It was late April then, and beets were surfacing at all the restaurants that were sustaining me. I began to picture his first home-cooked meal: a heaping plate of greens dressed with cold, roasted beets, mounds of fresh goat cheese, toasted pine nuts, maybe a citrus and olive oil drizzle. The boy had been subsisting on dehydrated chow, peanut butter and pixie sticks. Of course he’d be craving vegetables!
The night he arrived, we stole away early from the airport and the happy crowd of family who’d assembled, so in a hurry to catch each other up on the last year. Back at his place, Tim went to change out of his cammies and I went to cook, my thoughts hopscotching from happy (he made it!) to horrible (what if they re-activate him?). Before long he padded into the kitchen, yapping about his empty stomach and smacking me on the rump, just as goofy and giddy as I remembered. Then I saw his eyes go to the plates. He didn’t look up. Oh, honey, he said, you made beets.
Seriously? My man came home from combat, and I made salad?!
Beets were banished from the repertoire for a long time. But we’re eating less meat these days, and I found them hard to resist last month when they came into season here in Washington. I thought we’d do best with a fresh take, so I decided to stow the roots for a bit, and just cook the greens and stems.
They aren’t scraps, but they can be scrappy; you want to avoid the weary, wilted lot. I looked for bunches that had been picked the same day or the day prior, and which were plenty sturdy to the touch. Cook them the same day you buy them.
Riffing off a Mark Bittman recipe for chard, I simmered and then sauteed them, adding my own accents along the way: garlic, pine nuts, dried cherries and balsamic vinegar. We’ve had them a couple times now, on slices of crispy toast and with bowls of sticky rice. The last time, Tim asked when we’d get to eat the roots with goat cheese…and I almost got up from the table to hug him.
Note: Want something like the beet meal I botched? Try this. Want the welcome-home dinner I should’ve made: beet greens and steak? This arrangement looks great. I’m also eyeing this beet risotto, not to mention this farfalle.
Kristen Hinman writes the column Swine Dining: A City Girl Cooks Country. She used to think the perfect weeknight dinner consisted of an omelette and a glass of wine. OK, she still does. Her husband, on the other hand? Not so much. Luckily, three years of recreational cooking school in Paris and a vast cookbook collection mean she’s never at a loss for ideas. Kristen is a journalist who has lingered in celebrity chefs’ kitchens, nosed over midwestern caviar houses and taken pigs to slaughter–all on the clock. She lives in St. Louis and Washington D.C. and is the winner of two James Beard Foundation Awards for newspaper writing. One day she will wallpaper her pantry with Gourmet magazine covers. Visit Kristen’s website. Photo by Michelle Hudgins.
Fourth of July and Blueberry Pie
The quintessential Fourth of July weekend speaks of sun, lemonade, and outdoor games such as badminton with a roughed up net and an eager team of players. And blueberry pie.
Blueberry pie means the Fourth of July to me.
In 1997, while I was away studying in Italy, my family bought a cottage on Lake Huron. My sister was visiting for the first time, and when I made the long-distance call to check in from abroad, the first thing she said to me was, “You can eat blueberry pie for breakfast here!” It was as if the thought never occurred to us in twenty-something years. Why does it take removal to a remote location where life moves at a slower pace to realize that dessert for breakfast is one’s heart’s desire?
I had the good fortune to spend many a relaxed and festive Fourth of July in this far-away place. It was quite socially acceptable to spend the entire day in swimwear here, cover-ups optional. You get the picture. All rules were out the window.
After relaxation, sun, and conversation, fresh food was the focus of our days. It was here that I became a lover of food.
Back to the blueberry pie. Yes, we kicked off many dewey, crisp mornings with a slice of this sweet and tart delight–often savored while perched upon a still-damp Adirondack chair–and snacked on ripe peaches throughout the day while losing ourselves in a paperback novel and a sunken hammock.
And come meal time, the kitchen would slowly fill with jovial conversation and hungry eaters ready for their next homemade delight. We supped on orange and beet salad, steaks or whitefish on the grill, strawberry shortcake at a long wooden picnic table covered with a red and white check cloth. Most of the ingredients were local, and cheaply obtained.
We ended the days with games of croquet interrupted by swarming mosquitoes, Motown music drifting from the outdoor speakers, dancing on the patio while we watched the sun go down over Lake Huron.
This year I plan to continue my Fourth of July tradition with a homemade blueberry pie I’ll make for my family.
What are your Fourth of July traditions?
Photo by karynsig
