I’d heard that once you start cooking as a career, you completely lose any desire you once had to cook meals at home. I was hopeful that I might avoid this fate since I work in pastry, but so far, it has been a struggle. I’ve discovered that the reluctance has nothing to do with what you are cooking, and much more to do with the act itself, particularly the part about having to stand up while doing it.

One rainy afternoon this week, however, I found my muse. Having faced day after day of gloomy,wet commutes on steamy subway trains reeking of wet dog, I decided that, tired feet be damned, I needed something braised. I wouldn’t rest until I had a pot filled with rich, savory goodness, slow cooking in my oven and filling the apartment with warm, drool-inducing smells.

Once I set to the task, I rediscovered how easy braising is. There’s not a lot of technical work involved or difficult judgment calls to make. You just chop vegetables, sear ribs, get the braising liquid going, add everything in, and then pop the entire pot into the oven, where the magic happens.

My favorite thing about braising is the waiting.

The longer you are willing to wait in suspense (i.e., the longer and lower the braise is in the oven) the better the end result will be. I struggle with this, wanting to eat what’s there because it smells so incredible, but also knowing that the longer that pot stays in the oven, the better the final results will be. It’s a beautiful form of torture.

I had five hours between the time that the braise went in and dinner, so I made the most of them. I even went out and did some errands while the short ribs were braising, just so I could come home and open the door to the warm and inviting embrace of tomatoes, garlic, thyme, and sage.

And when the moment finally came to sit down to dinner, when I felt as if I could barely endure waiting another second, the payoff came in spades. It was everything I had hoped it would be, comforting, delicious, luxurious, and the slow cooking had coaxed the meat right off the bones (making for uglier photos, but more delicious ribs). As the rain continued to pound the windows, I remembered why I love cooking at home, tired feet be damned.

Braised Beef Short Ribs with Sun Dried Tomato Gravy and Swiss Chard
Adapted from a recipe by Nancy Brunner of the Swiss Hotel in Sonoma, California, featured in Bon Appetit, October 2009

The most important element of this recipe is the meat, and you will be much happier with the results if you start with high quality raw ingredients. My friends at Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, who just celebrated their one month anniversary at their new home in Chelsea Market, have the best short ribs in the whole city. Always worth the trip across town.

One other important consideration with the recipe is that it involves a food mill, which is one item that I do not own. I had no problem finishing the gravy in my blender, at the expense of changing the texture of my gravy. The recipe intended for it to be less homogenous, with small, but distinct pieces of the turnips, carrots, and celery. I was ok with blending it more to create a sauce, but please consider this outcome before you decide to use a blender in lieu of a food mill.

Braising is best done “low and slow”. The original recipe (the one I’ve provided below, with some of my own changes) was designed to be quicker, and thus has the pot in a 350 degree Fahrenheit oven for 2 hours. For much more tender meat, I recommend that you try to do this for at least 4 hours at 250 degrees instead, or longer and lower if you have time on your side. This can be prepared a day in advance and reheated – and I’ve done many low and slow braises over night with tremendous results (8-12 hours, 200 degrees, for example). Slow cookers are made for these recipes, if you have the luxury of using one.

Serves 4

For short ribs:

6 pounds 3-inch-long meaty beef short ribs
Coarse kosher salt
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup olive oil, divided
3 cups chopped onions
3 cups 3/4-inch cubes peeled turnips (about 1 pound)
2 cups chopped peeled carrots (about 8 ounces)
2 cups chopped celery
8 garlic cloves, peeled
1/4 pound sun-dried tomatoes (not packed in oil)
1/4 cup (lightly packed) fresh thyme sprigs
1/4 cup concentrated tomato paste
5 large fresh sage sprigs
5 bay leaves
2 cups dry red wine
4 cups low-salt chicken broth
Balsamic vinegar

For swiss chard:

1/4 cup olive oil
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 pounds Swiss chard, center ribs removed, leaves cut crosswise into 1-inch-thick ribbons (about 28 cups)

Special equipment (recommended):

Food mill

Prepare short ribs:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Place ribs on rimmed baking sheet; sprinkle with coarse salt and pepper. Sprinkle flour over; toss to coat. Heat 1/4 cup oil in heavy large wide pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches, cook ribs until browned all over, about 10 minutes per batch. Return to sheet. Wipe out pot. Add remaining 1/4 cup oil to pot. Add onions and next 4 ingredients; cook until tender and slightly browned, stirring often, about 12 minutes. Add sun-dried tomatoes and next 4 ingredients; stir to coat. Return ribs to pot, placing on sides to fit in single layer. Add wine. Simmer until slightly reduced, about 5 minutes. Add broth; cover and bring to simmer.

Transfer pot to oven and braise until ribs are tender, about 2 hours. Let stand, covered, at room temperature 15 minutes. Carefully transfer ribs to large bowl, keeping meat attached to bones if possible (some bones may separate from meat). Remove herb sprigs. Pass all braising liquid and vegetables through food mill into large bowl; return to pot. Spoon fat from surface. Season gravy to taste with salt and pepper and a few drops of balsamic vinegar. Rewarm gravy. Return ribs to gravy; cover and simmer to rewarm, about 5 minutes. DO AHEAD Can be made 1 day ahead. Refrigerate uncovered, until cool, then cover and keep chilled. Rewarm over medium heat until heated through, stirring gently, about 15 minutes.

Prepare swiss chard:

Heat oil in large pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic; stir 30 seconds. Add half of chard; toss to wilt, adding water by tablespoonfuls if dry, about 1 minute. Add remaining chard. Toss until wilted but bright green, about 3 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Divide ribs among plates. Divide chard among plates. Spoon gravy over ribs and serve, passing remaining gravy alongside.

It’s been four days since my last post. I hope you don’t think that I ran off and eloped, although, I’d be lying if I said that the thought already hasn’t crossed my mind… just kidding relatives and relatives-to-be!

We had the great pleasure of getting out of the city, which seems to be in a state of permanent monsoon, and escaping to our dear friends’ farm upstate for the weekend where we enjoyed the sunshine, communed with nature, and ate our faces off. There were three, yes, three resident chefs in the house, which meant meal after meal of absolutely delicious food.

I didn’t take any pictures of food, although we took lots of action shots in the pool and while we were working in the gardens. I did get the recipe for some of the most delicious potato salad I’ve ever eaten, so stay tuned for that. I did get to help out in the garden a bit, and got to see spring garlic growing right before my eyes, which leads me to the subject of this pizza.

I’m still obsessed with delicious, juicy spring garlic, so I was excited to pull out this recipe from the New York Times for “healthier pizza”. Besides the opportunity to use this week’s favorite ingredient, of which I still had tons left in the fridge, I was also intrigued by the recipe that promised a tasty whole wheat pizza crust, which I’ve always found to be a bit oxymoronic.

Indeed, the recipe is somewhat healthier than your average pizza, in that it doesn’t contain that much cheese and relies heavily on the garlic, parmesan, and fresh rosemary for flavor. My biggest complaint about the crust was that it would not crisp, even on a 500 degree pizza stone. The potato topping, traditional in some regions of Italian cooking, made the non-crisp dough al the more apparent, since it was also sort of mushy. I think I would have liked it better if I had just been served a sliver of it as an appetizer. Splitting a 12 inch pie, along with a salad, was overkill.

Pizza With Green Garlic, Potatoes and Herbs

Adapted from Martha Rose Shulman’s New York Times Article, May 25, 2009 

1 bulb green garlic, sliced; or if the bulb has formed cloves, 4 cloves, sliced thin

1/2 pound new potatoes or other waxy potatoes, scrubbed

Salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 recipe whole wheat pizza dough (see below)

Freshly ground pepper

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary, or 1 teaspoon crumbled dried rosemary, or 2 teaspoons dried oregano

1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1. Bring a medium pot of salted water to a boil, and drop in the garlic. Blanch for 30 seconds, and transfer to a bowl of cold water using a slotted spoon. Drain and dry on paper towels.

2. Add the potatoes to the pot, and bring to a gentle boil. Cover partially, and simmer the potatoes until just tender when pierced with a knife — 10 to 15 minutes, depending on the size of the potatoes. Drain and rinse with cold water. When cool enough to handle, slice about 1/4 inch thick.

3. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees with a baking stone inside. Roll or press out the pizza dough, and line a 12- to 14-inch pan. Brush all but the rim of the crust with 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and sprinkle on the Parmesan. Top with the sliced potatoes and sliced garlic. Season generously with salt and pepper, and sprinkle withthe rosemary or oregano. Drizzle on the remaining olive oil. Bake until the crust is browned and crisp, about 15 minutes. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Yield: One 12- or 14-inch pizza.

Advance preparation: The cooked potatoes and blanched garlic will keep for a day or two in the refrigerator. The dough can be made up to three days ahead and kept in the refrigerator.

Whole Wheat Pizza Dough

Whole wheat pizza crust has a nutty flavor and real nutritional value. Since the crust is what pizza is primarily about, this is a good thing. But a crust made with too much whole wheat flour can be heavy, dry and tough. I’ve found that this formula, which combines whole wheat and all-purpose flour, makes a crust that is both delightful to eat and full of whole grain nutrients, especially fiber.

2 teaspoons active dry yeast

1 cup warm water

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, plus additional for brushing the pizza crusts

1 1/4 cups stone ground whole wheat flour

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus additional if necessary for kneading

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

1. Combine the yeast and water in a 2-cup Pyrex measuring cup. Add the sugar, and stir together. Let sit two or three minutes, until the water is cloudy. Stir in the olive oil.

2. Combine the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour and salt in a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pulse once or twice. Then, with the machine running, pour in the yeast mixture. Process until the dough forms a ball on the blades. Remove from the processor (the dough will be a little tacky; flour or moisten your hands so it won’t stick), and knead on a lightly floured surface for a couple of minutes, adding flour as necessary for a smooth dough.

3. Shape the dough into a ball, pinched at bottom and rounded at top. Transfer the dough to a clean, lightly oiled bowl, rounded side down first, then rounded side up. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap, and leave it in a warm spot to rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. When it is ready, the dough will stretch when it is gently pulled.

4. Divide the dough into two equal balls. Put the balls on a lightly oiled tray or platter, cover with lightly oiled plastic wrap or a damp towel, and leave them to rest for 15 to 20 minutes. Afterward, the dough balls can be placed in a wide bowl, covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated for up to three days. Alternatively, you can wrap them loosely in lightly oiled plastic wrap and refrigerate them in a resealable plastic bag. When you are ready to roll out the pizzas, you will need to bring the balls to room temperature and punch them down again.

5. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place a pizza stone on the middle rack of the oven. Roll or press out the dough to a 12- to 14-inch circle. Lightly oil pizza pans, and dust with semolina or cornmeal. Place the dough on the pizza pan. With your fingers, form a slightly thicker raised rim around edge of the circle. Brush everything but the rim with a little olive oil, then top the pizza with the toppings of your choice.

6. Place the pizza pan on the stone. Bake as directed.

Yield: Two 12- to 14-inch crusts.

Advance preparation: The pizza dough can be refrigerated after the first rise for up to three days (see step 4). The rolled out dough can be frozen. Transfer directly from the freezer to the oven.

As you can probably tell, I love food magazines and eagerly anticipate when they show their faces each month in my piles of mail. When they come, I immediately remove the plastic wrapping, then carefully tear off the outer cover that’s devoted to advertising, to reveal the glossy, perfect food porn shots and exciting headlines that lay beneath. 

Then,  I tuck each perfect, shiny copy away in a neat stack as they arrive, one by one, Gourmet, Food & Wine, Bon Appétit, Saveur, and (with less frequency) The Art of Eating. Once my collection is complete, I plunk down with the whole stack and do a run through for intriguing recipes and the most exciting articles, dog-earing as I go along.

Don’t you dare touch my magazines before I get to read them – I’m this way about all of my subscriptions – god help you if you touch them before I do. I’m sort of a brat like that – not sure why.

Everyone who has ever lived with me knows that it’s hands off until I’ve had my turn. 

I guess it’s because so much of what we will eat is first glimpsed during these sessions. And for me, that’s like having Christmas morning over and over again. Each magazine is full of surprise menus, just waiting for me to discover them.

And, ever the picture of moderation, I like to enjoy them as a feast, often accompanied by a glass of wine.

Take, for example, this lovely recipe for roasted pork loin. It was one of those recipes where I saw a photo and knew – yes, I will make you. It originally appeared in a dramatic montage of an Easter meal. By the way, I both love and loathe those articles, which Gourmet seems to find so enchanting, that apply theatrical, fake scenarios to real food by making up a story to set the scene (it’s sort of like watching Gossip Girl, but with food). 

Anyway, the pork came out juicy and tender, and the sauce was all the Dijon mustardy, vermouthy, savory taste explosion that I was hoping for. The only disappointment here was that the recipe involved a large quantity of fresh herbs, which ultimately played a sort of hands-off role in the finished product. There was herb scent, without a lot of herb flavor. I think next time, I’d probably just use rosemary and call it a day.

Herb-Roasted Pork Loin Recipe
Adapted from Gourmet, April 2009

FOR PORK

1 (4- to 4 1/2 lb) boneless pork loin roast, trimmed

2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon olive oil, divided

6 rosemary sprigs, divided

8 large thyme sprigs, divided

8 sage sprigs, divided

8 savory sprigs (optional), divided

1/2 cup finely chopped shallots (4 to 5)

2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic

3 tablespoons Dijon mustard

FOR SAUCE

1/3 cup dry vermouth

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 3/4 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth

1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

ROAST PORK:

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Pat pork dry and season with 1 3/4 tsp salt and 1 1/2 tsp pepper. Straddle a flameproof roasting pan over 2 burners, then heat 1 Tbsp oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Brown pork on all sides, then transfer to a large plate.

Put a metal rack in pan and arrange half of herbs down middle of rack. Stir together shallots, garlic, mustard, and 1 Tbsp oil and smear over top and sides of roast, then put roast, fat side up, on top of herbs. Roast 1 hour. Toss remaining herbs with remaining tsp oil and arrange on top of roast.

Continue roasting until an instant-read thermometer registers 140 to 145°F, 5 to 15 minutes more (temperature will rise 5 to 10 degrees as it rests). Transfer pork to a cutting board and let rest 15 to 25 minutes.

MAKE SAUCE WHILE PORK RESTS:

Remove rack from pan and discard herbs from rack. Straddle pan across 2 burners on medium heat. Add vermouth and mustard and deglaze by boiling, stirring and scraping up brown bits, until reduced by half. Add broth and simmer 3 minutes. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a 2-cup measure. If you have more than 1 1/2 cups, boil to reduce; if less, add water.

Melt butter in a heavy medium saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour and cook, whisking, until pale golden, about 3 minutes. Whisk in vermouth mixture and simmer until slightly thickened, about 3 minutes.

Serve pork with sauce.

I’ve been addicted to the grill since the onset of warmer weather, but the hardwood grilling setup can be a bit of a production on work nights, especially with the super-appealing thought of schlepping a bag of all-natural charcoal home on my back in addition to carrying groceries on a sultry, eighty seven degree evening.  

Yesterday I suffered food paralysis in the produce section of Whole Foods. The recipe for this salad, that  I was totally feeling early that morning when I’d emailed it to myself, was all illuminated on the screen of my phone. The game plan was there, and still, I hesitated.

It was partially because I was not feeling up for the challenge of what I was starting to realize was a not-quite-simple recipe. What had once seemed like a pleasant evening of cooking, suddenly felt like a huge, post-work drag.

But I persevered. I dealt with the mob scene in the isles, and was patient with the slightly slow woman at the checkout who couldn’t find the grocery codes for four of my purchases. I sweat all the way home – thank god I had changed into sensible flip flops for my travels. Then, as soon as I had stowed everything in the fridge, I opened a bottle of wine and ordered us some delicious sushi.

Tonight I came at this recipe with renewed vigor, and my what delicious victory. This recipe comes with two warning labels:

1 – It takes awhile, but it might be worth cooking for an audience if you are not into involved cooking projects for your average weeknight meal.

2 – If you use the tiny, green Thai chili peppers, DO NOT TOUCH THEM. I did, and then I touched my face, and both areas are still burning hours later. Be sure to wash with hot water and soap immediately if you do touch them.

I’m really happy with the results of this recipe. I made some tweaks to the original – using a combination of the Thai chilies and Sriracha sauce rather than red chilies, adding lemongrass to the boiling water for the chicken, reducing the fish sauce, and finally, finishing the chicken with a round of roasting, to crisp the skin and evaporate some of the water.

This salad was a delicious flavor bombardment – hot and spicy balanced with sweet, with the fresh flavor of the mint and basil. It was so worth the steps it took to get to the end, and I’ll be enjoying some sweet leftovers at my desk tomorrow.

Vietnamese Chicken Salad
Adapted from Gourmet, August 2008 

For salad:
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic
1 tablespoon finely chopped peeled ginger
2 tablespoons Sriracha hot chili pepper sauce
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh green Thai chiles, or to taste
1 whole chicken (about 3 1/2 pounds)
1 (2-pound) green cabbage
1/2 pound carrots
1 tablespoon sugar
1 stalk of lemongrass, sliced through into quarters 

For dressing and topping:
4 tablespoons Asian fish sauce
1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1 finely chopped fresh green thai chili
2 teaspoon finely chopped peeled ginger
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
5 tablespoons fresh lime juice
3 tablespoons sriracha hot chili sauce

1/2 cup packed torn basil leaves
1/2 cup packed torn mint leaves

Equipment:
an adjustable-blade slicer

Accompaniments:
lime wedges; thinly sliced fresh red chiles (optional)

Make chicken and vegetables for salad:
Stir together lime juice, garlic, ginger, chiles, Sriracha, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper, then rub all over chicken, inside and out. Marinate, covered, at room temperature while cooking vegetables.
Thinly slice cabbage with slicer. Cut carrots into thin matchsticks (1/8 inch) with a knife. Cook vegetables in a large pot of salted boiling water (2 tablespoons salt for 6 quarts water) until crisp-tender, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer to a large sieve or colander with a slotted spoon (return water to a boil) and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Drain well.

Add sugar to boiling water, then add chicken and lemongrass with marinade and cook, covered, 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let chicken stand in cooking liquid, covered, 30 minutes. Carefully transfer chicken with tongs to a cutting board and let stand until cool enough to handle. Coarsely shred meat (and skin if desired), transferring to a large bowl.

Make dressing while chicken cools:
Bring fish sauce and brown sugar to a simmer in a small saucepan, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Blend mixture in a blender along with chiles, Sriracha, ginger, and garlic (use caution when blending hot liquids). Stir in lime juice.
Assemble salad: 
Transfer to a large sieve or colander with a slotted spoon (return water to a boil) and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Drain well.

Add sugar to boiling water, then add chicken with marinade and cook, covered, 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let chicken stand in cooking liquid, covered, 30 minutes. (Note: here is the point where I roasted the chicken at 400 degrees for 15 minutes – it did not yield the crispness I was hoping for. You may want to try for longer if you have time, I would not bother again). Carefully transfer chicken with tongs to a cutting board and let stand until cool enough to handle.  Coarsely shred meat (and skin if desired), transferring to a large bowl.

Make dressing while chicken cools: 
Bring fish sauce and brown sugar to a simmer in a small saucepan, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Blend mixture in a blender along with chiles, ginger, and garlic (use caution when blending hot liquids). Stir in lime juice.

Assemble salad: 
Toss vegetables with half of dressing and chicken with remainder. Serve chicken over vegetables and sprinkle with basil and mint. Or mix everything together, as I did. Serve at room temperature or chilled.

Cooks’ note:
• Chicken can be marinated up to 1 hour.
• Chicken and vegetables can be cooked 1 day ahead. Chill separately (covered once cool).
• Dressing can be made 1 day ahead and chilled in an airtight container.

The colder weather has mercifully cried uncle, and yesterday I walked home from work without a coat to bask in the collective sigh of relief and squeal of joy. There is nothing like the first warm Friday night in New York City. 

I made the necessary stops on my way home, to collect the essentials for a balcony celebration: avocados, grilling supplies, extra limes. By the time I had schlepped one large bag of charcoal on my shoulder (in addition to many, many bags) for 13 blocks and 2 avenues, I was a sweaty, happy mess.

Prior to our current apartment, I’ve lived in 14 other places and not a single one had sufficient surface area and ventilation for grilling (and yes, I did consider the fire escapes). There is not a single amenity that I would trade for our lovely balcony. It’s our 60 square foot oasis.

During the warmer months, we abandon our dining table and enjoy all of our meals outdoors. The balcony becomes our outdoor kitchen, our herb and vegetable garden, our cocktail bar, and the crime scene for a rosebush that I brutally murdered last summer.

For the first grill night of the year, I wanted to try something a little different. I had been saving some beautiful pork chops in the freezer, and I consulted Epicurious for grilling recipes that were off the beaten path.

I had my doubts about the anise rub – I’m not a total hater of anise, but, um, licorice pork chops? I put my faith in the praises of the reviewers on Epi and stuck to the recipe. There were some small setbacks – the mango that I selected at the store felt and smelled the way a good mango should, but cutting into it revealed that it was still too yellow and just not juicy enough. The limes too – were mealy and did not contain the desired amount of juice. (thanks for nothing, Whole Foods)

The rub felt counterintuitive, and I fretted that the mojo was not going to be mango-y enough, but all was forgiven when we took our first bites. I must stress – this recipe can only work on the grill. The flavors from the hardwood charcoal (chem-free and awesome, allows food to taste like food, not lighter fluid or gas) and flames transformed the anise, and the mojo complimented the meaty flavors perfectly. We felt very satisfied with our first grilled meal of the year – I can’t wait for tomorrow night with its forecasted 72 degrees.

Grilled Pork Chops with Anise-Seed Rub and Mango Mojo
Adapted from Gourmet, May 2000

For mango mojo

1 mango, peeled and coarsely chopped

1/4 cup fresh lime juice

1 large garlic clove

1 tablespoon chopped fresh jalapeño (including seeds)

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro
For anise-seed rub

1 tablespoon anise seeds

3/4 teaspoon black peppercorns

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons sugar

3 tablespoons olive oil

4 (3/4-inch-thick) loin pork chops, trimmed

Prepare grill (do not spread charcoal out to edges of grill).

Make mojo:
Purée mango, lime juice, garlic, jalapeño, and salt in a blender, then stir in cilantro.

Make rub:

Finely grind anise seeds and peppercorns in an electric coffee/spice grinder with salt and sugar. Transfer mixture to a small bowl and stir in oil.

Grill pork:

Brush both sides of pork with spice rub.

Grill pork on an oiled rack set 5 to 6 inches over glowing coals 2 minutes on each side. Move pork off to side of grill (not directly over coals; moderately low heat for gas grills) and cook pork, covered, turning once, until just cooked through, about 3 minutes more on each side.

Transfer to a platter and let stand, loosely covered, 5 minutes.

Serve pork with mojo.

When I first started the blog, I’d get a bit huffy when people would make requests for specific dishes. I think it has something to do with the fact that I spend my days working on projects that are prioritized by my boss, and I how when I come home, pull on pajama pants, and get to work in the kitchen, the blog is all me – my tastes, my whims, my rants. 

But lately, my attitude has done a complete 180, and not only am I happy to receive the occasional request, I actually find it to be something of a relief. It’s been a while since I’ve devoutly bought the bulk of my food in one fell swoop at the farmer’s market (move it Spring, let’s go!), and there are a lot of nights when I face the prospect of an empty fridge. It on these nights that I leave work in recipe paralysis and head for the the little grocer in Dumbo where I then do one of three things.

A: Mill about in the produce or near the meat or fish counter and see what looks good and then recall an old recipe that I’ve made with that thing 1000 times before, and buy those ingredients

B: Mill about in the produce or near the meat or fish counter and see what looks good and then make something up that I think will work, grabbing whatever I see that feels right

C: Mill about in the store, panic, and buy an obscenely expensive jar of artisan pickles and a tub of Greek yogurt, which I later consume at dinner time (to clarify: one after the other) although it is decidedly not “a dinner”.

Requests give me a purpose. They make me hop on Epicurious.com or brave my stacks of cookbooks and magazines to find a recipe to test. And the best requests come from people with reasons for needing the recipe. Take my friend Reese, who emailed me at work to ask if I had a recipe for a “badass green curry” which he might use to impress a “lady friend”. If one curry is all there was standing between Reese and what might possibly, have a fighting chance of one day becoming something that then becomes true love, well, I wouldn’t even dream of withholding the recipe.

I’ve made green curries before, using a variety of recipes, but it’s definitely a dish that I have not committed to memory. I glanced at a recipe or two before going to the store, but it was just one small, irresponsible glimpse. A skim, if you will. And I deftly, impatiently, decided that I could just start cooking from memory when I got home. It was not a good idea. I added too many of the flavors I obsess over (lemongrass, limes, basil) and not enough of some essential elements (red chilies, fish sauce, garlic) and I ended up with a very unbalanced curry.

I also left out stock, which is an essential ingredient in curry making (this is sounding more like a FAIL by the minute). I just threw in whatever vegetables were available at the grocer, which is totally fine, but I would have preferred adorable Thai eggplant, which can be hard to find, even in New York City (head for Chinatown and you will find it in abundance).

I had to mess with the curry a lot, and only with Brian’s help was it returned to something that resembled what we were hoping to eat for dinner. I stopped taking notes when it became a curry emergency, so I can’t even begin to tell you what finally ended up in the pan. Not wanting to let Reese down, however, I did find a recipe that I know will be amazing, and I offer a few tips from my own experience that might help, if my credibility isn’t totally shot.

NOT pictured above: Green Curry with Shrimp
From Vatch’s Thai Kitchen: Thai Dishes to Cook at Home by Vatcharin Bhumichitr 

2 tablespoons peanut oil

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 tablespoons green curry paste

12 raw jumbo shrimp

2 3/4 cups coconut cream

2 3/4 cup vegetable stock

2 large fresh chilies, sliced diagonally into thin ovals

1/4 cup fish sauce (I think this is a bit too much – I’d start with a few teaspoons and add more to taste)

8 round green eggplant, quartered or one Chinese eggplant cut into 1/2 inch slices

1 tablespoon sugar

30 fresh, sweet basil leaves

Heat the oil in a large saucepan. add the garlic, and saute until golden brown. Stir in the curry paste, mixing well. Add the shrimp and stir-fry until just cooked through. Add the coconut cream and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Add the stock. Return to a boil, stirring occationally.

Keeping the curry simmering, add the chiles, fish sauce, eggplant, and sugar and simmer until the eggplant are cooked but still crunchy. (do not overcook, or the shrimp will get tough).

Stir in the basil leaves just before serving. Serve with rice.

I made these a few months ago and came very close to never ever posting them, for fear that you would take one look at the photos of the finished product and wretch in complete revulsion. 

Are you still here after that lovely introduction?

Picture, if you will, a bed black beans, allowed to cook long enough to be a touch more than tender, which means that they have also lost their shiny luster and are looking a little rough and brown. On top of that, picture a mound of tender brown meat, completely detached from the bone, cloaked in a lighter brown sauce and literally melting before your eyes.

A food stylist would have added a nice sprig of something green to spruce up the vignette. Any dolt with a camera would have advised me to have a steadier hand or at least check the screen on the back of the camera to confirm that the shot had come out OK. 

I did neither one of these things, and ended up with a photo of the finished short ribs that my boss might describe as “something that looks like the dog’s breakfast”. And come to think of it… he’d be spot on.

Which is totally unfair, because my poor photography skills should not be allowed to detract from such a beautiful recipe. The amazing sauce, which features the smoky flavor of chipotles combined with the subtle sweetness of ancho chilies and molasses, is drool inducing as it cooks, filling the kitchen with garlic-y, bacon-y aromas. These flavors are the perfect compliment to the beef, which will be so tender that you could eat it with a spoon by the time it’s done.

I liked the beans in theory, but in the end, they were protein overkill, and next to the superstar- the short ribs – they seemed like a bland afterthought. Next time I’ll skip the beans entirely and opt for some Spanish rice or even just a green salad instead. Oh, and it might help if I held the camera still, next time. Don’t hold it against the recipe. I’ll leave you here to meditate on the gorgeous sauce instead.

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Braised Chile-Spiced Short Ribs with Black Beans
Adapted from Gourmet, February 2009

For beans:

1 pound dried black beans (about 2 1/4 cups)

8 cups water

1 Turkish or 1/2 California bay leaf

For short ribs:

1 1/4 ounces dried ancho chiles (3 to 4 medium)

2 cups boiling-hot water

1 medium onion, chopped

1/4 cup red wine vinegar (this was my idea, and I’d do it again)

3 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

2 tablespoons finely chopped canned chipotles in adobo plus 1 tablespoon adobo sauce

2 tablespoons tomato paste

2 tablespoons molasses (not robust or blackstrap)

1 teaspoon cumin seeds

3 whole cloves

2 1/3 cups cold water, divided

5 pounds beef short ribs

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1/4 pound sliced bacon, chopped

1 (3-inch) cinnamon stick

Accompaniments: chopped white or red onion; chopped cilantro

Quick-soak beans: 
Put beans in a 4-to 5-quart heavy pot with enough water to cover by 2 inches.

Bring to a boil and boil 2 minutes, then remove from heat and let stand, covered, 1 hour.

Make chile purée: 
Wipe anchos clean, then stem and seed. Discard ribs and tear anchos into pieces.

Soak anchos in boiling-hot water until softened, about 20 minutes. Transfer anchos to a blender, reserving soaking liquid.

Purée anchos with onion, garlic, chipotles with sauce, tomato paste, vinegar, molasses, cumin, cloves, 1/3 cup water, and 1 teaspoon salt.

Braise short ribs:
Pat ribs dry and season with 1 1/2 teaspoons salt and 1 teaspoon pepper (total). Heat oil in a wide 6-to 8-quart heavy pot over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Brown ribs in batches, about 6 minutes per batch. Transfer as browned to a platter. Discard fat from pot.

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Cook bacon in pot over medium heat until browned, then transfer with a slotted spoon to platter.

Stir chile purée into fat in pot (it may spatter). Cook, stirring frequently, 6 minutes. Stir in reserved chile-soaking liquid, remaining 2 cups water, and cinnamon stick and bring to a boil. Return ribs and bacon to pot and braise, covered, in oven until ribs are very tender, 3 to 3 1/4 hours. Skim fat from sauce.

Cook beans while ribs braise: 
Drain beans, then return to pot and add fresh water (8 cups), bay leaf, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until beans are just tender, 1 1/4 to 2 hours (depending on age of beans). Drain just before serving.

Serve short ribs with beans.

For a quick, nutritious, low-fat, yet filling and satisfying meal for two (with plenty of leftovers for bringing to work) look no further.

I’ve been getting into the Gourmet Everyday Quick Kitchen recipes in a big way during these hectic months of belt-tightening. This recipe, from the March 2009 edition, is absolutely stellar.  I only got my magazine a few weeks go, and already I’ve made it twice. 

The secret is in the spices, which are basic and when combined, give this dish a delicious kick that’s not too overpowering or spicy. I’ve been grinding many of my own (in this case, the dried chilies and the coriander) spices lately in my coffee grinder. This time I threw in the already ground spices as well to create a custom blend.

I’m a huge sucker for tomatoey recipes, and love that Gourmet is embracing one of my favorite adjectives. This recipe works great year-round, just try to use the highest quality tomatoes you can get.

I keep expounding upon the virtues of soaking dried chickpeas (so good, so cheap, etc.), but I’ve been terrible at actually planning ahead. I could do so much better!

The first time I made this I skipped the mint and the parsley and used some basil I had leftover, which worked great.  This time I got the proper ingredients and they made the dish so much more amazing, especially the next day, and especially the mint. If you can, go for it! I also added some rice vinegar for a little tang.

A nice dollop of yoghurt makes this dish super-special. The tangy yoghurt compliments the spices so well, it’s as good as any chickpea curry I’ve had at my favorite Indian places.  The best thing about this recipe: It’s ready in under half an hour and can feed (and satisfy!) you for days.

Tomatoey Spiced Chickpeas
Adapted from Gourmet, March 2009

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 tablespoon ground coriander

1 teaspoon ground ginger

Rounded 1/4 teaspoon hot red-pepper flakes

1 (1 1/2-inch) piece cinnamon stick

1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes in juice

1/4 cup rice vinegar (balsamic would also work)

2 (15-ounce) cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained

1/2 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

1/4 cup finely chopped mint

Heat oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium heat until it shimmers, then cook cumin, coriander, ginger, red-pepper flakes, and cinnamon stick, stirring constantly, until fragrant and a shade darker, about 2 minutes.

Add tomatoes with juices, breaking up tomatoes with a spoon, then add chickpeas and vinegar. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened, about 20 minutes. Discard cinnamon stick.

Stir in parsley and mint. Serve warm or at room temperature.

On my walk home from the subway at the end of yesterday’s big snowstorm, I planted my foot in a giant, slushy mud puddle, which seeped into my boots (which apparently have lost their protective, waterproof seal), soaking my socks. Now, this tragedy by itself is not enough to ruffle the feathers of a New Yorker such as myself, but the incident was followed, not five seconds later, by me getting splashed by a passing bus, which covered me from head to toe in disgusting, frozen slush. Children pointed and laughed. So did their parents.

 I’m guessing that, when faced with this unfortunate sequence of events, most reasonable people would have picked up the pace and hightailed it home for a nice bath and Thai delivery, but not me. Instead, I was craving one specific comfort food item, which is why I found myself ducking into the market for a organic, free-range bird, weighing just shy of 4 pounds, and then hightailing it home.

One of the simplest and quickest recipes for good roast chicken is Ina Garten’s. It stars the drool-inducing combination of lemons and thyme, it roasts relatively fast, and there is very little prep. I also tried a great new technique that my friend Eva learned from her mom; brush the bird with soy sauce before roasting to give the skin a wonderful golden color and crispy texture.

Of course, my spontaneity rendered me ill-prepared, and I lacked both the requisite yellow onion and bulb of fennel that the recipe required. I compensated with extra garlic and carrots and still got amazing results.

A little chopping and stuffing, and before I knew it, my apartment was filled with the delicious herb-y scent of roast chicken.

By the time it was ready, I had unwound and relaxed. The chicken came out perfectly, full of great flavors, nice and juicy, with a crispy, salty skin. When served with a simple mixed green salad it made a comforting, yet not overly unhealthy meal, perfect for snowy Monday nights.

Perfect Roast Chicken 
Adapted from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook by Ina Garten

1 (5 to 6 pound) roasting chicken

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 large bunch fresh thyme, plus 20 sprigs

1 lemon, halved

1 head garlic, cut in half crosswise

4 carrots cut into 2-inch chunks

1 bulb of fennel, tops removed, and cut into wedges ( I omitted, but I recommend)

Olive oil

Soy sauce

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Remove the chicken giblets. Rinse the chicken inside and out. Remove any excess fat and leftover pin feathers and pat the outside dry. Liberally salt and pepper the inside of the chicken. Stuff the cavity with the bunch of thyme, both halves of lemon, and all the garlic. Brush the outside of the chicken with the soy sauce and sprinkle again with salt and pepper. Tie the legs together with kitchen string and tuck the wing tips under the body of the chicken. Place the carrots and fennel in a roasting pan. Toss with salt, pepper, 20 sprigs of thyme, and olive oil. Spread around the bottom of the roasting pan and place the chicken on top.

Roast the chicken for 1 1/2 hours, or until the juices run clear when you cut between a leg and thigh. Remove the chicken and vegetables to a platter and cover with aluminum foil for about 20 minutes. Slice the chicken onto a platter and serve it with the vegetables.

I was sitting at my desk one evening last week, pondering what quick meal I might be able to throw together from simple ingredients from the bodega that I could grab on my way to the subway,  when I suddenly became nostalgic for black bean veggie burgers. Which *spoiler alert* is not what this post is about.

For me, black bean veggie burgers are sort of an old friend. They were there for me during my first years in New York City. They waited patiently in the freezer for me to come home after long days at work, and even longer evenings at grad school. They were never fussy and were impossible to mess up. They didn’t judge me for eating every single meal standing at the kitchen counter because I lacked both the necessary table and requisite chair in my tiny Upper West Side apartment.

I decided that I could probably wing it making my own fresh version of black bean burgers, dressed up with some Tex-Mex flair. I grabbed the ingredients that I thought would work (including some organic hamburger buns that were made without corn syrup – score!) in ten minutes flat and hurried home to get started on this incredibly easy dinner.

I began by chopping up veggies for pico de gallo. I paused to call Brian and ask him to pick up tortilla chips (because I had forgotten them, natch). I went to the closet to get the can of black beans to combine with some lovely cilantro that I had just chopped, and that’s when I discovered…

I had bought the wrong beans!

Being my distracted self, I hadn’t looked carefully enough at what I had grabbed off the store shelf. Kidney beans. Big, red, and yummy, but just not right for this recipe – too much mush and not enough bean.

I had missed the window of opportunity to call for a second emergency pickup. And then I noticed the chickpeas sitting there, and I thought “Falafel? Tex-Mex burger? Sure, why not!

The combination of chopped cilantro, cayenne pepper, cumin and chickpeas was exactly that – a kicked up falafel patty. There was only one problem – I forgot a very important step in the falafel-making process when I neglected to add something dry (I usually use matzos meal) to hold the darned things together. They were easy to mold for cooking in the pan, but I had to keep shaping them with the spatula.

When I dressed them with the toppings and a generous glug of hot sauce, they looked pristine. But as soon we took the first bite, that aesthetic unraveled. I would have taken a picture to show you, but my hands were full just trying to hold it together as it slid away. We ate half of it by mushing the bun together at the top and cupping the bottom with our hands, and then we scooped the other half off the plate with chips like a dip. It was a delicious mess that I will definitely make again. 

Tex-Mex Falafel Sloppy Joes

14 oz cooked chickpeas, drained

a couple handfuls chopped cilantro

3 tomatoes, chopped

1 onion, chopped

1 tablespoon jalapeño, minced

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 cup seasoned rice wine vinegar

1 teaspoon cumin

salt and fresh ground pepper

4 split hamburger rolls, toasted

olive oil

optional:

sour cream

avacado slices

hot sauce

Step 1: Make pico de gallo by chopping tomatoes, onions and one handful of cilantro. Combine these ingredients in a bowl with the rice wine vinegar and jalapeño. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Step 2: Place chickpeas, cayenne, cumin, and the remaining handful of cilantro in a food processor and pulse for about 30 seconds, until the chickpeas are all smashed but not uniform and cilantro and spices are fully integrated. Remove the mixture from the food processor and form into tight patties.

Step 3: Set a non-stick pan over medium heat and add a tablespoon of olive oil. When the oil is hot (a drop of water sizzles when dropped in the pan) gently place the patties into the pan, and mold them back into shape with the spatula. After about 3 minutes, GENTLY turn the patties, which will have started to brown. Do any necessary reshaping with the spatula and allow them to cook for another 3 minutes. Remove from heat and gently place the patties on top of the bottom half of the rolls.

Step 4: Top with pico de gallo and any additional toppings and then cover with the other half of the roll. Serve immediately with tortilla chips, for scooping the parts that fall onto the plate.