For your Sunday morning cuppa joe
best way to remove broken eggshells {tasting table}
how to make everything creamy {epicurious}
do you wanna know how tomatoes are made? {lucky peach}
another reason to eat pickles {grub street}
still on a food waste kick: here are seven tips {bon appetit}
espresso lesson {food republic}
i’ll have to try it to believe it: subbing peaches for bacon {the kitchn}
it’ll make your day, trust me {youtube}
So you bought a bunch of garlic scapes. Now what?
Um, I have no idea…I’m in the same boat! Oops. It seems that garlic scapes are rarely the star of the show. I want to believe they’re okay with that, because I’ve mostly been blending them into things. A lot of suggestions for scapes are to make pesto, but I’ve already done that. I’ve read that you can pickle them and then they actually taste a bit like green beans?…Weird, right? Lest we forget last summer when I made this frittata with them and I burned the shit out of it. It was great regardless of the burning, and I made it again, not burnt, and it was still great. Maybe I should take a new photo. I also added them to a lot of veggie stir-frys. They keep really well wrapped up in the crisper. So, basically what I’m saying is, help! Any ideas for garlic scapes, send them my way! (I fully understand that I should probably be the one telling you what to do with them...see below for some of that.)
This green goddess dressing has been pinned to my Food52 collection board for awhile now and as I was desperately trying to come up with ways to use up these garlic scapes, it came to mind. I could easily swap out the garlic for some slinky green scapes. They would for sure add to the “green” in “green goddess dressing”. It also reminded me that lurking deep in the back of one of my cabinets, was a small tin of anchovies that I bought in a moment of fierce courage even though I had no plan for them yet. I felt accomplished as a I placed them in my basket, as though I had made it through a foodie rite of passage. I knew that people sing their praises as umami filled flavor boosters --- they just make everything taste better. But then they went up into a cabinet for a few months to be forgotten/avoided because I needed an excuse for another fierce moment of courage. Green Goddess dressing it was!
As a fish-phobic individual, I had my doubts of their apparent flavor magic and was convinced that upon tasting the dressing I would immediately know that anchovies were present and decide, no thank you. Opening the can, I prepared to be walloped in face by FISH. But no, that wasn’t the case. I took the little critters and quickly diced them up and threw them in with the other ingredients and they looked just like little bacon bits. They had finally met their destiny, or I guess two of them had, because shit I have a whole can of anchovies to use up...now what?
I was not brave enough to slurp up one on its own. But I think I will continue to mush them into things and pretend they’re not there, enjoying the punchiness I’m assured they lend to dishes. Take it from me, anchovy-phobes, it’s probably time. Time to use up some of those garlic scapes and those little fishies hiding in your cupboard to make this dreamy dressing.
You’ll want to dunk all of the raw vegetables in it, spread it on all of the sandwiches, possibly bathe in it and emerge like the summery goddess we are all becoming with this warm, veggie-friendly weather. I’m dreaming of tomatoes sitting in puddles of it, their insides oozing out and scooping up all that goodness with a spoon. I thought it wouldn’t be half bad as a dressing for chicken salad. Dolloped on raw baby carrots and snap peas was a pretty good start.
Green Goddess Dressing
adapted from this Food 52 recipe
Ingredients:
½ of a ripe avocado
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
3 garlic scapes diced small
2 oil packed anchovies, finely chopped
¼ teaspoon honey
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
½ cup olive oil, add a bit additional if needed
¼ cup buttermilk (can sub heavy cream)
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh carrot greens
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon
salt & pepper to taste
Directions:
Add avocado, vinegar, garlic scapes, anchovies, honey and lemon juice into a blender. Blitz until all is combined. Since I have a nutribullet, I added all of the olive oil at this point and blitzed until fully incorporated. If you have a regular blender, with the top on, run the blender at a low speed and slowly drizzle the olive oil in through the hole in the top. Blitz until incorporated.
Transfer this mixture to a medium sized bowl. Whisk in the buttermilk.
Whisk in the chopped herbs next. Season dressing to taste.
Best after chilled for a few hours, however let it sit for a few minutes at first for the oil to come back to its liquid state.
Makes about 1 ½ cups. Keeps for about 3 days.
Lacinato kale, sugar snap peas, fresh chicken breasts, fresh eggs, sweet red cherries, rainier cherries, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, sunflowers, radicchio, dill, green beans, rhubarb
My crisper drawer is bursting at the seams. I have almost every kind of berry there is, and two kinds of cherries, and all kinds of vegetables. Summer is motherfucking here and I am beside myself.
Nothing is more pleasant these days than being able to pluck fresh berries from the fridge and deposit them directly into my mouth. Fresh local flowers all over the house don’t hurt either. And I won’t be having a sad desk lunch for days to come with the array of vegetables I have at my disposal.
Summer is motherfucking here people and I plan to milk it for all it’s worth.
I’m not exactly sure what to say about pesto. Because I’ve felt deeply for most of my adult life, that no, I do not like pesto. But now what I realize I actually don’t like is, I think, basil.
Something possessed me this past farmer’s market to pick up a bunch of baby carrots. It wasn’t a hard sell, they were ridiculously adorable looking and came with a bunch of fluffy green tops and they just screamed SPRING! and HEALTH! I had it in mind to use up last haul’s dill weed up by making this from the archives.
Not sure if you know this, but it’s pretty trendy these days to be a Dan Barber fan-girl. If you don’t know him, he is one of the poster boys for the sustainable food movement. One of his more recent ventures was turning his fancy Manhattan restaurant into a pop-up called wastED to bring attention to food waste. It was already a farm to table establishment, garnering most of its ingredients from Barber’s upstate and New England working farms. So basically he’s running for sainthood. You should check out his "Chef’s Table" episode on Netflix so we can all be fan-girls together. When does the pesto come in? I’m getting to that.
Between him and resident cool girl, April Bloomfield, whose “top to tail” and “nose to tail” cooking has also inspired many a food waster to cut down. The recent author of “A Girl and Her Greens”, has lately had her roasted carrots with carrot top pesto making the internet rounds. So to state the obvious and get to the pesto, as I was shearing the greens from my baby carrots, I choose not to throw those greens out, but whirled them together with some usual pesto suspects.
It doesn’t taste like the pesto you know, because as noted above, I probably wouldn’t like it. But it’s herby and salty and lipsmackingly slick with olive oil as any good pesto probably should be. Since I used farmer’s market darling, the garlic scape instead of garlic, you can sub in two garlic cloves if you can’t find those.
I’m a total pesto convert, I’ve basically put it on and in everything this whole week. I even started dipping baby carrots in it, it seemed wrong...but also right...
Carrot Top Garlic Scape Pesto
adapted from “A Girl and her Greens”
Ingredients:
2 cups packed roughly chopped carrot tops
3 garlic scapes roughly chopped (can sub 2 cloves smashed garlic)
salt and pepper
¼ cup packed grated parmesan
¼ cup toasted pine nuts
½ cup olive oil
Directions:
I made mine in my nutribullet, so I just dumped it all in the large vessel and let it do it’s blending thing.
If you are using a food processor, you are going to want to lightly pulse all the ingredients except for the olive oil until mostly combined. Then set it to process on a low setting and slowly pour the olive oil in through the opening of the top of the processor, blitzing just until it comes together.
Use on and in everything.
Store in the refrigerator in an air tight container with a light layer of olive oil on the top. It also freezes well.
Makes about 1 cup
Note: A few days later I smothered some grilled vegetables in this pesto and topped it all with burrata. Recipe here.
(Shhh...I totally know it’s Tuesday)
rhubarb, baby carrots, snap peas, red russian kale, strawberries, garlic scapes, parsley, chive blossoms, freshly milled cornmeal, red spring onions, romaine
Lately the smell of rain has been getting to me.
It makes me nostalgic for my childhood home. When I used to sit at an open window and watch it come down in droves. When the sound instantly reminded me of this song. When getting a little bit wet from summer rain was a big “who cares?” Muddy feet were welcomed. Bonus points for freshly cut grass coming along for the ride.
Now, a true city slicker --- the slicker the city becomes, the bigger a grump I have the potential to become.
But lately, as long as I don’t have to deal with soaked shoes or wet rat hair, I find myself relishing in an afternoon summer rainstorm. Now, I crank the windows open, sit on the couch in the dusky grey light, and do things like write this post. I’m lucky enough to have two huge trees outside my living room windows. So the rhythmic sound of rain wafts through the open window along with the scent that it gives off when it hits organic matter like tree bark, it’s only slightly tainted by the smell of wet garbage.
Probably the best part about summer rainstorms is that in a split second they are gone. You experience them in all their fierce sudden glory and then just like that! Leaving only a few traces that they passed --- drips off the tree leaves and fire escapes, a puddle or two, a rainbow. The sun is out and shining, the birds begin chirping again and it’s like it never even happened.
But you’ll always have that smell, in the back of your mind, for the next time.
There’s this and many other things to love about summer, behold my market haul. I bought almost all the things. I did somehow manage to leave the place without buying a $12 box of cherries. I am relishing the fact that every time I open my fridge I can pop a perfectly ripe strawberry into my mouth. And guys, the things I did to my veggies this weekend...
For your Sunday morning cuppa joe
it's no secret that i love a good fruit salad {bon appetit}
a look inside julia child’s kitchen {vox}
ditching the sandwich bread for collard greens {the kitchn}
how david chang does party dip {gq}
related: how david chang does fried chicken {grub street}
not just for “crème”: brȗlée your eggs {bon appetit}
the best ways to look like you have your shit together {buzzfeed}
interesting piece on one girl and lotsa fruit in new orleans {lucky peach}
Back in the dead of winter, definitely in the middle of a snowstorm, I was desperate for a few things --- inspiration, hope, and maybe some fresh greens wouldn’t hurt. After being a really diligent seasonal eater, I had reached a point where ragged and frostbitten vegetables had gotten the best of me. I remember it very specifically (Feb 21st) because I had clocked quite possibly the worst week in work history ever and even had to work on the weekend because of it. I left my office that Saturday afternoon feeling defeated and weary and a little annoyed that because of both the snowstorm and it being late in the day, I had most likely missed my weekly farmer’s market run. (Hence the need for inspiration and hope.)
Feeling resentful I headed downtown anyways to see if maybe, just maybe, I could still catch a few stands. There was one stand that particularly stood out amongst the few remaining. It was because through its clear plastic sheath the shock of green was blatant against the white blanket of snow that had coated the square. It was too springy and green and welcoming to not step in and admire for just a moment. I lost my steely seasonal resolve in about 30 seconds.
I remember thinking --- I’m sure these little leaves are grown inside and are not truly seasonal but they are everything to me right now. The little flower that was tucked into the top of each box was the bright spot in the eye of the storm and it made the whole day, week, world okay. It doesn’t take too much to make me happy, obviously. But seriously, at that moment it was just the ticket.
I went home and made the greenest thing I could possibly manage because I needed it to not be cold and snowing and winter and the worst week ever. And somehow this salad helped me to pretend that, yes, maybe it was actually okay, and don’t worry spring is just around the corner, the days are getting lighter, and soon the flowers will bloom and it will all be fine.
This salad has been on repeat in my lunchbox/random dinner/midnight snack rotation for weeks now. But its true season has only just appeared. The baby lettuces, crispy romaines, and soft spinach leaves are being tucked into pillowy beds in every market stand these days. It’s perfect for a late spring salad, but obviously served me well through the dreary winter weather we only just left.
Very Green Salad
Ingredients:
1 head romaine, cut into 1-inch pieces (or 8 ounces baby greens)
½ bunch lacinato kale, shredded
½ cup sunflower seeds
½ cup raw or roasted pepitas
1 cup golden raisins
1 avocado, sliced or cut up into 1-inch chunks
¼ cup shredded parmesan
juice of one lemon
good drizzle of olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
Whisk lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper in a small bowl until well combined.
Add the greens and toppings to a large bowl and pour dressing over. Toss gently to coat in dressing.
Serves 4 to 6
"What I really eat" are my Iron Chef meals. My pantry meals. Shit, my fridge is empty meals. The things that come out of necessity and lack of time. The ingredient list will usually be small and the execution usually simple. Something that is less of a recipe and more of a guideline. If something exceptionally awesome comes out of my Sunday night scramble, it will get posted as a “What I Really Eat” and probably be accompanied with a not-my-best photo.
Realistically I’ll realize about an hour before we should eat dinner that I’ve never taken the pack of chicken out of the freezer that I wanted to use. It’s then a mad dash to thaw chicken totally improperly so I can start cooking with it. At some point I acknowledge that whatever grand semi-plans I had for dinner need to be completely abandoned because I’ve wasted an hour of valuable time waiting for the chicken to not be a solid block of ice.
So we wait a little bit longer for the chicken to thaw. I don’t know if you know this, but like the watched pot never boils, the chicken never thaws. Then we slice each breast in half (it still being a little icy actually makes this easier.) Pound it thin with a meat mallet. Even though they’re still stupid cold, they’ll be so thin they will fry up quickly after a dredging of starch and egg. Deglaze the pan with chicken broth and lemon juice, reduce it to thicken and make it silky with butter. Pour over chicken. Shower with parsley. Done.
This is all practically 15 minutes after slicing the first breast open.
The takeaway: defrost your chicken in time for dinner. Or like me: ditch the original plan and make a dinner that only takes 20 minutes.
Quick Chicken Francese
Ingredients:
1 pound chicken cutlets, pounded thin
2 tablespoons tapioca starch or corn starch (can sub 1/4 cup flour to dredge instead, if desired)
1 egg
olive oil for sauteing
1 cup chicken broth
1 lemon, halved -- juice one half and thinly slice the other
1 tablespoon of butter
salt and pepper
2 tablespoons of chopped parsley
Directions:
Salt and pepper the cutlets. Dredge each in the tapioca starch and put aside on a plate. Beat the egg in a medium sized bowl.
Coat the bottom of a large saute pan with olive oil over medium heat. Once starting to smoke dredge the tapioca starched cutlets in the egg wash and place in the pan to brown. Let chicken cook on one side until golden brown. Flip and cook second side until browned and cooked through. Saute chicken in batches if needed. Set chicken aside.
Deglaze the pan with the chicken broth scraping up the brown bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the juice of half the lemon. Let this reduce down by half, about 5 minutes. In little pieces melt in the tablespoon of butter. Add the lemon slices to the sauce. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Put chicken on a serving plate and then pour the pan sauce over. Sprinkle with chopped parsley.
Serves 4
NYC based food blog with an emphasis on cooking whole, real foods that are in season and locally produced
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