Herbed Mashed Peas for spring (and those impatient for it)

Surprise crocuses popped up in the garden, and my mom (a real gardener, while I'm just a person with a garden outside) confirmed that they're usually the earliest bloomers -- capable of breaking through snow.

If the flowers can forge ahead toward spring, so can I. In the absence of much good produce yet, I tried Herbed Mashed Peas, a bright green ode to the first inklings of springtime.

I've seen recipes for this a few places recently. Mint is the most common herb used, but seemed a bit too summery for January -- maybe I'll try in July. Most recommended serving with fish, but I had Mark Bittman's porkchops (I peppered heavily) in white wine.

Herbed Mashed Peas

You could probably figure this out based on the title alone, but here's an official recipe. :)

• 20 oz frozen peas
• 1 T butter
• A generous amount of pea-compatible herbs. Try: 1/3 C fresh chopped mint, chives, or dill; 2 T chopped fresh basil + 1 T chopped fresh tarragon; or 1 T red pepper flakes + 1 tsp cumin + a couple roasted garlic cloves.

Melt butter in a large pan over medium. Add herbs, stirring till fragrant. Add peas, and stir gently until heated through (will take a few minutes, but do not overheat -- you want mashed peas, not mush). Puree in a food processor till coarsely mashed. Serve warm.

Via Tribunali: Buon Compleanno!

We've traded the cake and clowns for wine and buffalo mozzarella, but we have not outgrown the grade-school norm of pizza for birthday parties. Both times I've been to Via Tribunali, it's been for someone's annual celebration.

Photo from Via Tribunali

The newest location of the mini chain is a little outside the heart of Fremont, near a yoga studio, bookstores, and other neighborhoody spaces -- meaning more cozy than the weekend drunkenness of the Ballroom/Red Door region.

If Northlake is Seattle's strongest pizza institution (my mom's generation of Huskies frequented the tavern for heavy-weight slices piled precariously with topping), Via Tribunali is the best of the contemporary Neopolitan-style opposition: An average eater can devour an entire 10/12" pizza easily. Super-thin crust, restrained mostly-traditional toppings (meats, cheeses). The red sauce is awesome: a semi-sheer bright coating of perfect tomato. Other restaurants do the same thing, but none so well.

Plus, the big tables open for reservation, the mid-range prices, and the ideal balance between interesting/unusual ingredients and pizza's mass appeal make it a pretty great bet for your grown-up soiree. Feel free to provide funfetti cake -- we're getting old, but not boring.

Dumplings, rediscovered

Dumplings evoke ultimate old-world kitchen charm: they seem to exist everywhere, from potstickers to pirogi, matzo to gnocchi. Drop dough -- shaped, filled, flavored, or plain -- into a hot liquid, and there you have it: Dumplings, just like grandma made (whether she made them in Armenia or Korea).

Also, "comfort, value and simplicity" are really hot right now. The very definition of dumpling.

Still, I was hesitant to write about dumplings. I mean, really? Is this soggy biscuit worth documenting? But these are delicious -- think mid-century American Sunday supper. Awesome comfort food, showing some semblance of planning and effort (but really requiring very little of either). A more contemporary version might include whole-wheat flour or different spices and herbs, but for now this will be a staple.

Still have turkey in the freezer from Thanksgiving? Defrost it. You might reduce the initial cooking time by 5 or so minutes, if using leftovers -- just make sure the sauce still reduces to the desired consistency.

Chicken and Dumplings

From Everyday Food.

For chicken + sauce:

• 3 T butter
• 1 onion, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 5 carrots, cut crosswise into 1 1/2-inch pieces
• 1/2 tsp dried thyme
• 1/4 C flour
• 14 oz low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs (or turkey), in large pieces
• 10 oz frozen peas

For dumplings:

• 3/4 C flour
  
• 2 T chopped fresh dill, or 3/4 tsp dried dill weed
• 1 3/4 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 C + 2 T milk

In a Dutch oven, heat butter over medium. Add onion, carrots, and thyme. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is soft. Add 1/4 C flour and stir briefly; add broth. Stirring constantly, bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low. Arrange chicken in pot. Cover and simmer 20 minutes.

Now dumplings: In a bowl, whisk 3/4 cup flour, 1 3/4 tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt, and dill. Stir in 1/2 C milk. Dough/batter should be very soft -- if it will not plop readily from a spoon, add additional 2 T milk.

Come back to the pot. Stir in peas. Drop dumplings on top, evenly-spaced, in 10 large tablespoons. (I use this medium cookie scoop, which keeps everything evenly sized.) Cover. Simmer 20 minutes, till dumplings are just firm -- they'll still look soft, certainly not baked, but should be delightfully fluffy to eat.

Coarse and unrefined? You must have me mistaken for another vegetable.

Celery root is not an attractive item, but I highly recommend you put aside your shallow prejudices and get out the blender. This is delicious. If you're skeptical of the lumpy, brownish root, remember that nothing fails when pureed with butter and cream.

Celery Root Puree

Adapted from Serious Eats.

• 1 medium celery root, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
• 1 or 2 small potatoes (about 6 ounces), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 apple (Granny Smith suggested), peeled, cored, and cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1/2 C heavy cream
• 2 T butter
• Salt and pepper

Place celery root and potatoes in a large pot of salted water and bring to a boil. Boil 10 minutes, then add the apple and continue boiling until all are tender (5-10 minutes).

Strain vegetables, then stir around in dry pot over medium heat for a moment, to steam off any excess water. Stir in cream and butter. Puree in a food processor or with an immersion blender (stirring once or twice to ensure no lumps hide in the corners of the pot). Season generously with salt, more gently with pepper, dot with a few tiny pats of butter (why not?) and serve.

You know, this reminds me of another magical transformation -- brownish, gnarly creature to delightful accompaniment (plus the buttery yellow of a Disney ball gown). Let's sing together. "Tale as old as time! Song as old as rhyme ... "

So This is the New Year

Check out these ingredient inspired calendars by Claudia Pearson on Etsy. These quirky and playful illustrations would look fantastic in kitchen or office. When it's time for a new 2011 calendar simply crop off the calendar portion and frame the illustrations. Viola! Instant art!

Also available as a 12-month tea towel! There was only a a few left when I last checked so snatch one up soon!

Weeknight paella

The Internet can be trouble for cooks. Endless pages of potentially untested recipes sometimes lead down a path that conveniently fits what's in the fridge -- but is not necessarily a winner in any other sense.

But sometimes you get lucky. I searched around online for a paella that fit my supplies at home, and this Chicken and Shrimp Paella from Cooking Light turned out pretty great. You could definitely find something more traditional or luxurious, but I doubt many people want search for mussels, clams, and snails for Tuesday dinner. Shrimp, chicken and sausage are manageable.

The preparation wasn't taxing -- it took about an hour from start to finish. It also made a huge quantity (even after I decreased the amount of chicken by 30%), so halve the recipe if you're not a fan of leftovers.

Chicken and Shrimp Paella

Adapted from Cooking Light

4 chicken thighs, skinned

1 tsp chopped fresh or 1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary

2 tsp olive oil

2 hot Italian sausages

1 C chopped onion

1 1/2 C uncooked Arborio rice

1/2 C diced plum tomato

1 tsp paprika

1/4 teaspoon saffron threads, crushed

1 T dried garlic

3 C low-sodium chicken broth

3/4 lb shrimp

1 C (1-inch) diagonally cut asparagus

1 C frozen green peas, thawed

Preheat oven to 400°.

Sprinkle chicken with rosemary, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and black pepper. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high. Add chicken and cook 3 minutes on each side or until lightly browned. Remove from pan; cover and keep warm.

Crumble sausage into pan and cook 1 minute. Add onion; cook 7 minutes, stirring. Add rice, tomato, paprika, saffron, and garlic; cook 1 minute, stirring. Return chicken to pan. Add broth and 1/4 teaspoon salt; bring to a boil. Cover and bake at 400° for 10 minutes. Stir in shrimp, asparagus, and peas. Cover and bake an additional 10 minutes or until shrimp are done. (Original recipe only listed 5 minutes for final cooking time -- I actually did 12 minutes, and it was perfect, so check after 5 minutes, then continue if necessary.)

The Back Door to Prohibition

Discretely located in an alley with minimal signage (just a stylish silver engraved plaque next to an ominous dark wooden door) between 1st and 2nd street near Blanchard, Seattle's newest Speakeasy, Bathtub Gin & Co. is easy to miss. So easy to miss in fact, that you almost feel as if you are about to enter a secret group or club. I'll have to admit, I was a bit timid when I first opened the door, unsure of who (or more importantly, how small of a crowd) I may find inside. Upon entering, I immediately fell in love with the interior and ambiance of the place. You almost feel as though you're on the set of a movie, or perhaps another time period all together. Dark wood, dim candlelight (let me rephrase - dark candlelight), exposed brick, and a beautifully glamorous crystal chandelier give this speakeasy and irresistible charm. It's cozy, intimate and inviting.


Raven and I made our way down the staircase to the lounge area on the bottom floor which has the most seating. The upper level is where you'll find the main bar area with minimal bar stool seating. This is where the happy hour minglers seem to migrate. We were almost instantly greeted by a waitress who promptly provided us with Bathtub's short (but amazing) cocktail list.


On our previous visit, we were a tad disappointed to learn that there was absolutely no food menu whatsoever (though a coworker later pointed out that you can order in food from it's neighbor Italian restaurant). This becomes even more disappointing after you quickly learn that the drinks are strong - very very very strong. And a girl needs to offset this high dosage of liquor with, at the very least, some finger food. Thankfully, Bathtub Gin seemed to learn quickly that empty stomachs + 1/2 a drink = a sloshed and starved patron. In other words, me on my last visit. The speakeasy now offers a small appetizer list.


As Raven and I were on our way to Delancey for pizza, we opted not to get any food and went straight for the good stuff - the cocktails. Watered down fruity cocktails you will find none of here. These drinks are bold, sophisticated and strong with flavors like cardamon (try the Volstead Act) and house-peppered reposado tequila (Bobby Love Margarita). Prices are a bit high - $8-9 ($1 off during happy hour) - but oh so worth it. Go early as your chances of finding a table after 6:30pm are slim to none.

But shhhhhh...let's keep the awesomeness of this place quiet. I'll be severely disappointed if it becomes overrun with the obnoxious Belltown crowd.

Bathtub Gin & Co.
Neighborhood: Belltown
2205 2nd Ave (In the alley between 1st & 2nd near Blanchard)
Seattle, WA 98121
(206) 728-6069

Crispy, buttery potatoes

All the work here is in slicing potatoes thinly -- an excellent exercise in knife skills, and a delightfully buttery side dish. Or, use a mandolin for more precise slices.

Crispy, buttery potatoes

• 2 T butter
• 2 T olive oil
• 4-6 yukon gold potatoes, enough to fill your casserole dish
• Salt, pepper
• Thyme (dried or fresh)
• 4-6 cloves of garlic

Preheat oven to 400. Slice potatoes into 1/4-inch-thick slices, keeping in order (this allows the most attractive presentation).

Melt butter. Add butter and oil to a 9-inch casserole dish. Arrange potatoes in dish. (I arranged them end-to-end in a circle around the dish, then put the smallest potatoes in the center.) Stuff garlic cloves into gaps between potatoes.

Bake for about 45 minutes. Sprinkle with thyme, salt and pepper, spoon some of the butter and oil over the top of potatoes, and bake for another half hour or so -- as long as the potatoes are cooked through, but don't burn, the timing is not particularly precise.

"This may taste awful ..."

So I made the pear tart mentioned yesterday (originally Melissa's post) for a potluck last night. Something went wrong -- maybe the dough, or the pears, but the filling was soupy and the bottom crust was mush. As Brian and I walked out the door, my vision of gracefully placing a perfect tart on our hostesses' buffet was replaced with a wish to call it a night and sit around the house moping.

Add to this the discovery of a beautiful Whole Foods tart at the party. How can I compete with that?

The discouraging dessert ordeal reminded me of my favorite passage from My Life In France (borrowed from Melissa):

"I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I really don't know how to cook ...," or "Poor little me ...," or "This may taste awful ...," it is dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, "Yes, you're right, this is an awful meal!" Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake collapsed -- eh bien, tant pis!

Usually one's cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is truly vile, then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile -- and learn from her mistakes."

Like any good moral tale, the conclusion of my tart disaster proved that most things do end at least tolerably ever after: When Tart Time arrived, my soggy-bottomed pastry actually looked very pretty, and everyone finished their messy slices (unlike some more-professional tarts of the evening).

Pike Place Pears

Between errands downtown, I stopped at Pike Place to pick up pears to make Melissa's rustic pear tart. The man behind the produce talked me into parsnips, kale and celery root as well. I guess I'm an easy sell when, in the middle of barren winter, presented with colorful fruits and green vegetables.

TGI Happy Hour Time!

Raven and I are hitting the town. OK, translation: one bar that looks like a deep dark haunted library, Bathtub Gin & Co., for happy hour in Belltown, followed by pizza in Ballard at Delancey - the new pizza joint by none other than Molly Wizenberg of Orangette. We're excited, so you should be excited too as review posts are sure to come.

Happy Friday.

Šopska Salata, salad of the Western Balkans

Some folks bring trinkets from far-away lands, littering the shelves of friends and family with exotic tchotchkes. Some send postcards. And some share food.

Matt is the last of these -- the best option, in my opinion. His holiday visit from Serbia brought chocolate filled with Pop Rocks and a bottle of Rakia ("potent" is an understatement. See Rakia in the glass in the photo above, courtesy SoSofia.com).

Also on the Serbian menu: Šopska Salata, a simple Balkan salad. From Matt:

"Šopska Salata, found on every dinner table across almost all areas of the Western Balkans
(for large salad):

• Two tomatoes
• Large cucumber
• Green pepper or similar
• Large Onion (add small hot pepper if you like)
• Firm Feta cheese that you can grate (or substitute Greek Mizithra)
• Oil (traditional: sunflower, lux: Extra Virgin)
• Vinegar (traditional: something real simple, lux: Balsamic)
• Salt, Pepper

Peel and roughly chop/section all veggies and put in bowl, cover with shredded cheese, leaving it on top. Individually season with a spritz of oil and vinegar to taste, same with salt/pepper. Wash it down with copious amounts of Jelen Beer, and serve as a garnish to your giant pile of grilled mixed meat:"


If meat with a side of meat is not on your menu, this salad would be great with with grilled fish, fried chicken or barbecue.

Newsflash: We Love Teriyaki

Food journalism often offers a window into a class of dining in which I rarely participate. Sure, I've tried Tom Douglas and the occasional news-worthy restaurant. But for the most part, no one's writing headlines about my supper.

Until today! Behold, a NY Times feature on Seattle's silent teriyaki obsession. Yes, a food so familiar I've never really thought about it (though I have eaten plenty) made news for its sheer omnipresence in the city.

I was surprised to discover that while teriyaki exists elsewhere, other cities do not offer spicy chicken and gyoza from two shops on every block. The author gave a mention to my U District favorite, Nasai, and our new neighbor, 5 Season's Grill. (See the top right and lower left of the above photo.)

Teriyaki strikes me as Seattle's standard street food, except that our weather prohibits standing outside to eat most of the year. It was one of the few fast foods we ate when I was a kid. When I got tired of spicy chicken around the age of 13, teriyaki-shop yakisoba was my first experience with tofu -- as an eater, it was potentially life-changing (tofu-consumption was not common in south Everett in the 90s, but I loved it from the start).

Beyond the revelation that we're the richest city in the US, teriyaki-wise, the article doesn't give any great insight. There's no charming historical reason for the food in Seattle, just a large population of willing cooks over the last 60 years. There's not much variety, either -- sticky rice, saucy strips of chicken, and a salad of iceberg lettuce with sugary dressing. My teriyaki quality scale runs from Mediocre to Excellent-For-Cheapo-Food. I've never found either an inedible or mind-blowing teriyaki. But I do find it everywhere, and there's really no substitute.

More Tannins for Your Buck

I'm still learning how to talk/write about wine. As a result, I'm always reluctant to do a post about wine because really, what would I say? "Mmmm this one's very red. Or, "Oooooo this one's very white". Very enlightening information for our 9 followers. It's not that I'm lacking experience. In fact, it's my drink of choice most week nights (as nearly any bottle pairs well with a Sex & the City re-run), and I'll almost always go for a glass of merlot over a bottle of beer. I guess I just haven't cared to think too critically about what I'm drinking.

So bear with me while I try and recommend a new favorite as of late. Let me preface by saying my budget is tight. I just bought a house for crying out loud. $10-15 is generally my max wine budget. I'm sure wines in this price range are nothing to rave about, but in the past few months I've thoroughly been impressed with Sagelands Vineyard from the good ol' Columbia Valley where you can snag a bottle for about $12 (or $9.99 with your QFC card). I've tried about 4 different varieties of this brand. Here are my tasting notes:

2006 Merlot - Very berry (sounds like I'm describing a Capri Sun) and full, though a bit too acidic for my tastes. I think this one was my least favorite.

2005 Freddie's Blend - My favorite thus far. A red blend with a bit of a spice to it. I could see this one paired with a roast, stew, or steak.

2006 Cabernet Sauvignon - Definitely sweeter and less acidic than the Merlot. A bit more flat...but in a good way. Definitely caught hints of some dark fruits like cherry and blackberry. I found this wine extremely well-balanced - no flavor was too dominant or overwhelming. Pretty versatile wine and good to bring to a party to pair with a variety of foods.

2007 Chardonnay - This wine makes me daydream of summer. Crisp, light and refreshing. My 2nd favorite to Freddie's blend. Chilled, this will wine will be perfect for a summer BBQ with a grilled halibut.

Sagelands is open daily from 10am - 5pm. A visit to their tasting room is definitely on my 2010 "to do" list as is a general Columbia Valley wine tour.