Before I get down to business about this truly dreamy fall salad, I just have to ask – what do you think of the new look on the site? Is it not awesome? Major props and heaps of gratitude are in order for Paul, the gifted designer who was able to take the pages of meandering babble I wrote for him about my vision for the East Village Kitchen and translate them into the clean, beautiful design that you see here. I can’t wait to cook a giant thank you meal for he and his wife. Also, while I’m rolling the credits, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that Brian spent the better part of a weekend wrangling the HTML to make the design play nice with WordPress, a daunting task that elicited cursing from the computer desk all weekend and proved, as if I didn’t know already, just how much he loves me.

Also, while I’m handing out thank yous, I also owe a big one to the EVK readers who reached out to me, either by commenting on the site or via email, to express disgust about what happened at that interview earlier this week and to offer words of encouragement. I was pretty ashamed, in hind site, that I allowed it to even happen rather than telling him that it was inappropriate and storming out, and I feel better now that I’ve taken action. That’s the last I’ll say on the matter, onward and upward! I’ll be doing a trial run at a wonderful bakery on Monday.

Ok, so, this salad. I’ve got my sweater on and I’m changing culinary gears – it’s time to embrace fall, hateful socks and all. I read an article about how amazing sugar pumpkins are for all kinds of sweet and savory recipes and decided that I wanted to try my hand with them this week. I have to say, I’m in love.

I missed out on the farmers market, so I was really happy to find the perfect NY state sugar pumpkin, just shy of 2 pounds, at Whole Foods. They were not marked with price per-pound, which usually ends with me going into mild shock at the checkout when the price is finally revealed, but not this time. I guess I never noticed before, but it turns out that pumpkin, even local, organic pumpkin, is cheap.

This is happy news for me, because I plan on making this salad at least once a week as long as sugar pumpkins are in season.

This is the kind of recipe that is super easy to pull together, but does require you to wait half an hour for the pumpkin to roast and the lentils to soak and cook. Be sure to get the lentils and the boiling water going while you are prepping the pumpkin, to save time. The biggest pain is cutting up and peeling the pumpkin, but I found that the chore became easier with the help of a sharp Swiss peeler. Also, if you quarter the pumpkin and scoop out all the seeds and pulp before you peel, the job goes much quicker. Be sure to use a sharp knife – raw pumpkin flesh is tough!

Once your pumpkin has cooled a bit (I thought this was stellar when the pumpkin was still warm) the only thing left to do is toss everything together and – voila! You’ve got yourself a bowl of spiced, creamy, crunchy deliciousness. The flavors and textures meld so perfectly; the subtle whiff of cumin and smoky flavor from the paprika, the goat cheese, melting into the pumpkin, making them both creamy and just a bit sweet, the slight bite of the lentil skins and the crunch of the rocket. Sigh. Drool. I’m so happy I have leftovers in the fridge!

Spiced Pumpkin, Lentil, and Goat Cheese Salad
Borrowed from Bon Appetit, November 2009

The subtle spices that are roasted with the pumpkin make a big difference and it is important to used a smoked paprika if at all possible. The website tienda.com is an excellent source for Spanish specialty spices and other traditional Spanish staples – Brian even ordered cheese from it! If you can’t find French lentils, just substitute other ones, just be sure to follow the directions for soaking and cooking that are provided with them, as they may be different.

Serves 4 as a meal, more as a pre-meal salad or side

3/4 cup French green lentils*
6 cups 1-inch pieces peeled seeded sugar pumpkin or butternut squash(from about one 2-pound whole pumpkin)
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon hot smoked Spanish paprika**
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
4 cups baby arugula
1 cup soft goat cheese, crumbled
1/4 cup thinly sliced mint leaves
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

PreparationPlace lentils in small bowl. Cover with cold water and soak 10 minutes; drain.

Cook lentils in boiling salted water until tender but firm, about 30 minutes. Drain lentils. Rinse under cold water, then drain.

Preheat oven to 375°F. Place pumpkin in large bowl; toss with 2 tablespoons oil, cumin, paprika, and sea salt. Arrange pumpkin in single layer on baking sheet; roast 20 minutes. Turn pumpkin over. Roast until tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Cool.

Combine lentils, pumpkin, and oil from baking sheet with arugula, half of goat cheese, mint, vinegar, and 1 tablespoon oil. Season with salt and pepper. Divide among plates; sprinkle remaining goat cheese over.

* Available at some supermarkets and at specialty foods stores.

** Sometimes labeled Pimentón Picante or Pimentó de La Vera Picante;

available at specialty foods stores and from tienda.com.

Like so many of us, I’m working hard to enjoy these last few weekends of summer. As I struggle to hold onto each minute and savor every precious day, I am also trying to imagine how the Fall is going to feel, knowing that the end of bread class next week will bring an entirely new lifestyle for me, as I plunge into my first job in a bakery and my evening pastry class schedule.

A lot of people may not understand the sacrifices that people who cook for a living make in exchange for the satisfaction of having a job that they love. Cooks, chefs, and bakers are all hard at work during the times that other people reserve for relaxing, eating out, partying, and sleeping. It makes sense – their income relies on having people who are not working there to patronize their establishments and eat their food.

What this means for a career changer like me, is that my cherished weekend routine of sleep-in mornings, leisurely walks with a cup of coffee around the Thompson Square dog run, making the Saturday haul at the farmer’s market, leaving the apartment to spend agenda-free afternoons walking around the city with my beloved… these are all things that I will be giving up to pursue my dream of becoming a baker.

I’m feeling very conflicted about this loss. On the one had, I’ve never been more motivated to work in my entire life. I can’t wait to start working as a baker, which usually means starting work at 4 AM and getting Tuesdays off. On the other hand, I’m having a hard time saying goodbye to only part of my corporate self that I liked – the woman who had her weekends off.

I fear losing my friends, driving a wedge into my relationship, missing out on all the good stuff that goes on. I hope that everyone will understand that I may be disappearing for a few years to accomplish some very big goals, but that doesn’t mean I will be gone forever.

I got a little taste of a baker’s schedule this Saturday, when I went in to school to make up a class in the bread kitchen. It was a bit of a treat because it was the first time I got to work completely on my own, without the aid of teammates. I got to make my own breads, from scaling the ingredients to pulling the bread out of the oven, and how the bread turned out was completely on me.

I also got to experience how it feels to work in a silent kitchen. It was meditative, like baking at home, except I was producing at a much larger volume, so everything was that much more repetitive and intense. I was moving around all day, I can’t remember the physical labor of baking ever being more challenging. I paused for a moment sometime in the early afternoon and thought to myself, “Yes, this is what I love about baking”.

At the end of that very busy Saturday, I returned home to Brian, who had spent the day pulling together a meal from things he’d found on his solo trip to the market. We drank cocktails and I told him about my day, and it was lovely. On Sunday we enjoyed a day of leisure, and not wanting to spend all my time in the kitchen, I pulled this salad together with some local beans and we sat outside and talked about the changes ahead. He tells me to stop warning him that he needs to be prepared for me not being around so much, but I keep saying it anyway. I think I do it to hear myself say it, because I’m feeling a little lost these days.

Green Bean and Hazelnut Salad
Adapted from Gourmet, May 2008

This salad has a few fancy oils as ingredients (hazelnut oil, flaxseed oil) that I did not have. I substituted a little sesame oil along with the olive oil. I think next time I’d like to try it with the hazelnut oil at least, although it was still very good without it. I recommend using a mustard that has whole mustard seeds.

1 ounce hazelnuts (2 tablespoons)
3/4 pound green and or yellow beans, trimmed
2 1/4 teaspoons grainy mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt
4 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon sesame oil (the original recipe calls for both hazelnut and flaxseed oils)
1/4 cup finely chopped shallot

Preheat oven to 325°F with rack in middle.

Toast nuts in a small baking pan until centers are golden, 15 to 20 minutes (cut one open to test for doneness). Cool to warm, then rub off any loose skins in a kitchen towel. Coarsely chop nuts.

Cook beans in a 6-quart pot of boiling salted water (1 1/2 tablespoons salt for 4 quarts water) until just tender, 4 to 6 minutes. Transfer to an ice bath to stop cooking. Drain and pat dry.

Whisk together mustard, vinegar, and sea salt in a bowl, then add the oils, whisking. Add beans and nuts and toss well. Season with salt and pepper.

At first glance, there’s nothing on this plate worthy of getting all emotional about. Indeed, it’s a delicious, satisfying green bean salad, made hearty by smoky, meaty prosciutto di parma and accented by just a tiny bite of mustard and radish. Delicious yes. Tear worthy? With drama and violins? Nope.

And even so, I found myself tearing up as I prepared it tonight – as part of our last ditch supper,  with us begging to stretch out every last second out of what turned out to be a delightful, lazy weekend. There’s nothing here to cry about, nary an onion in sight, and yet, there I was, counterside, snapping beans over the sink, bawling like a baby.

People who know that I love to cook often ask me if I learned how from my mother, which is pretty laughable, because my mother wouldn’t let me near her kitchen for a single second longer than the time it took to pour a bowl of cereal. you see, my sister and I were a walking mess, veritable Tazmanian devils of slovenly behavior, and my mother was fed up with restoring order in our path (our father’s too) as she did her best to minimize the damage we left in our wake.

Growing up on a few healthy acres in Northern New England, I took for granted the tremendous bounty of fresh, seasonal produce we had coming from our very own backyard. Only now, as I join the crowds at my local urban greenmarkets, can I appreciate my mother’s commitment to growing fresh vegetables for our family. She was part of a food movement before that movement even existed. And as I was snapping green beans for the salad this evening, I couldn’t help be be transported back to my childhood, when my mother delegated such menial jobs to my sister and me. They made us part of the cooking, and yet, moved us out of the kitchen, safely onto the back porch, where we were sure to do little damage. I remember resenting tasks like this – snapping beans and peas, shucking corn… but now they make me tear up thinking about how much I miss my mommy.

Yeah, how perfect, on Mother’s Day, of all days. My mother is the type of woman who would be mortified by such a display. She’d be telling me to get a grip, that my life is easy compared to so may others. And this is the affirmation that I rely on during our weekly (or, if it’s a hard week, daily) phone calls, because this city can take you far from Earth, and sometimes all I need to get through is tough love, Mom style.

Green Bean Salad with Radishes and Prosciutto
Adapted from  Bon Appétit, June 2009

1 1/2 pounds green beans, trimmed

8 radishes, sliced paper-thin

1 3-ounce package thinly sliced prosciutto, cut crosswise into thin strips

3 tablespoons aged Sherry

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon minced fresh chives

1/4 cup olive oil

1 2- to 3-ounce wedge parmagiano reggiano

Cook beans in large pot of boiling salted water until crisp-tender, 4 to 5 minutes. Drain well; cool. Toss beans, radishes, and prosciutto in large bowl. Whisk Sherry, mustard, and chives in small bowl. Gradually whisk in oil. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper. Toss salad with enough dressing to coat. Using vegetable peeler, shave cheese in thin strips over salad

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.

Of the many nighttime pleasures that Aruba offers, Madame Janette embodies all of my favorites and I was so pleased that it was the restaurant where we celebrated our arrival on the happy island. 

The way I like to describe the décor in the expansive bar area is funky-burlesque. The red walls, black lace, and warm lighting, clash pleasantly with the art-deco light fixtures and faux torches that blaze atop the bar, which is surrounded by signature glowing M’s.

We were seated outside in the expansive backyard, where we enjoyed fabulous (and plentiful) French-influenced dishes and the delicious breeze, both of which are famous in Aruba. One of my favorites at Madame Janette is the Caesar salad (yeah, I know, boring, right? Except, it’s insanely good here) which has an addictive, creamy dressing and sizzling grilled jumbo shrimp.  My new favorite was an Argentinean petite sirloin wrapped in bacon, drizzled in Dutch Gouda, and covered with fried onions. I mean, what could be bad? It’s the Argentinean beef that makes the meal – grass fed and raised hormone-free, it melts like butter.  Other favorites of the table included the almond-crusted, pan-fried grouper and the rack of lamb.  All of these photos are pretty terrible because of the low light, but you get the idea. All in all, a fantastic (and oof, filling!) first night in Aruba.

Winter is getting the best of me, as I ache for the fruit and vege of warmer months. This yearning makes me so weak that sometimes I can’t resist buying that fancy plastic box of exotic-looking cherry tomato varieties, shipped all the way from a hot house in Mexico. Such purchases weigh on my pro-environment conscience as well as on my palate, for while these are prettier and even a hint more tasty than the run-of-the-mill tomatoes that are available in January (that I really don’t think are worth anyone’s time), they are not even close to local, in-season varieties. Still, at times I’ll be weak enough to fake it – convincing myself that one can have a tomato salad on a January evening.

And my, they are pretty to look at. Sigh.

A simple balsamic vinaigrette is perfect to help give these tomatoes some much-needed oomph.

A little basil doesn’t hurt either (also from a Mexican hothouse, for shame.

The entire thing can be prepared in just five minutes.

If you turn up the heat and forget what you know about tomatoes, you may almost be able to convince yourself that it is August. Ahhhhhhhh.

Hot House Tomato Salad

1 12 oz package of assorted cherry tomatoes

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon dried basil, crushed

1 tablespoon minced shallots

1 tablespoon sugar

sea salt and fresh ground pepper

6-10 fresh basil leaves, chopped

I think that friends who have been reading my blog are beginning to grow concerned about my health. After all, it would appear from my latest posts that I have been living on a steady diet of butter, sugars, eggs, vanilla, and chocolate. Never fear, I cook far more than I post and I’ve been spreading warm, buttery love to the thighs of friends, relatives, and colleagues near and far. In the midst of this flurry of holiday baking, my meals have primarily consisted of healthy, simple meals with seasonal flavors. This salad is a delightful example of this kind of weeknight eating, featuring sweet-tart dried cherries, two kinds of apples, musky toasted walnuts, roasted fennel, and a sweet vinaigrette, all wrapped in the loving arms of warm goat cheese.

Step 1: Slice one bulb of fennel into 1/4 inch slices. Coat them with olive oil and season with sea salt and fresh ground pepper and roast in the oven at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Be sure to stir from time to time to ensure that the pieces are cooking evenly. Add a little water to the bottom of the pan if the fennel is drying out.

Step 2: Make the vinaigrette. Combine 1/4 cup balsalmic vinegar, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon honey, 1 tablespoon dried basil in a small bowl. Whisk together until the honey is dissolved. Add salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

Step 3: When the fennel has about 7 minutes to go in the oven, place a small pan with 1/3 cup walnuts spread evenly over the surface. Begin the process of preparing your lettuce. Be sure to wash and dry thoroughly, and set aside.

Step 4: When the fennel has about 4 minutes left, place a small dish of goat cheese in the oven to warm.

Step 5: Core and chop apples into thin half circles.

Step 6: Remove everything from the oven, and prepare to assemble the salad.

Step 7: Place lettuces, fennel, walnuts, cherries, and apple slices in a large bowl. Use a whisk to stir up the dressing and drizzle it down the sides of the bowl, not directly on top of its contents. Scoop the dressing off the bottom of the bowl with your fingers, folding it over the salad, mixing the contents in the process.

Step 8: Plate the salad, ensuring that each of the ingredients are evenly distributed. Top each salad with a disk of warm goat cheese. Serve immediately.

Warm Goat Cheese Salad with Roasted Fennel

Salad:

1 lb. Mixed baby greens

1 Gala apple

1 Granny Smith apple

6oz fresh goat cheese

1 large fennel bulb

1/3 cup walnuts

1/2 cup dried cherries

Olive oil

Sea salt and fresh ground pepper

Dressing:

1/4 cup balsalmic vinegar

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon dried basil

Sea salt and fresh ground pepper