Zucchini and Ricotta Galette (a borrowed recipe)

Melissa sent a blueberry muffin recipe from Smitten Kitchen, and browsing along I knew I had to make this Zucchini and Ricotta Galette. It seemed perfectly simple but not at all boring, comfort food (buttery pastry + 3 kinds of cheese!) but still summery.

I was a little worried this would be too zucchini-y, so I used one medium zucchini for a fairly thin layer. I baked it 35 minutes, which left the zucchini perfect done -- still fresh tasting.


My crust was not as glorious as the original seemed to be, but I also didn't chill it quite long enough and my butter bits were perhaps too big. Note: take care with pastry, the little details make a difference!

You can visit the beautiful Smitten Kitchen for the recipe and additional thoughts. Now me and the men (er, man and dog) are off to Blaine for a festival of crab! Plus appropriate cocktails, horseshoes, and lounging around in the sun. :)

Lemon Quinoa and Chickpea Salad

A couple people mentioned the lack of 2 Teaspooning in recent weeks. I promise, no one's missed any kitchen excitement, as I haven't really cooked anything since the sun came out in late June. I do not enjoy a warm oven or stove when the weather is warm.

But I do love quinoa and chickpeas, and both are great additions to salads. They're cheap. They're lovely at any temperature. They're light and don't overwhelm salads, like some other additions (cheese, meat). And along with the healthy fiber and protein in chickpeas, quinoa is a complete protein. I remember from a college Nutrition class that complete proteins are necessary for humans, but since they're primarily found in animal products, it's sort of lucky to find them in vegetarian/vegan foods. So there you have it. Eat more quinoa.

Both chickpeas and quinoa also have an impressive history: chickpeas have been eaten for at least 7,500 years, originally in the Middle East and Mediterranean. Quinoa is a South American food, eaten for 6,000+ years, and considered the sacred "Mother of All Grains" by the Incas.

If you don't know quinoa, it's similar to couscous: fluffy, light in flavor, quick-cooking. It's officially a "pseudocereal," not a real grain (couscous is officially a pasta). It can be red or yellowish -- red is prettier, but less common in stores. Quinoa is low-maintenance: add boiling water and cover for 15 minutes.

For this salad, I made my quinoa rissotto-style, adding a little water at a time and stirring, then adding a splash of lemon juice, salt and pepper, and sliced scallion at the end. I added canned chickpeas (rinsed and drained) in the last minute of cooking, to heat them. Then I tossed over mixed lettuce and herbs from the garden. Very little hot-stove time, and definitely better than a diet of popsicles.

Brightly-colored Thai beef salad

I meant to blog about this dish when I first made it, but now that I've tried it twice I can assure you it was no fluke the first time. I could make this once a week and be happy with it. And, I think it would be great for an outdoorsy potluck. Come on over. I'll make it for you.

Also exciting: we have enough lettuce in the garden to make an entire salad! Plus lots of arugula, and radishes, cilantro, fennel, chives, scallions (or something oniony I've been using as scallions -- whatever the old owner left us).

Pardon the bloody beef pics, you vegans and vegetarians. Marinated tofu would be great instead, though I can't imagine a comparable vegan substitute for the fish sauce in the dressing.

And for future reference: fish sauce is a questionable predecessor to whipped cream. Tonight we had this before strawberry shortcake. Although Brian said both were delicious, I think I'll opt for a mango sorbet or something more Thai-appropriate next time. (As if I really plan my dinner along with coordinating desserts.)

Thai beef salad

From Everyday Food, May 2010

For beef:

• 2 T soy sauce
• 2 tsp fish sauce
• 2 tsp sugar
• 12 oz flank steak (8oz is plenty if you're making this for two people)

Combine and marinate overnight in the refrigerator or for ~15 minutes on the counter. Heat a heavy pan over high, place steak in and turn to medium. Cook 3-5 minutes on each side, for medium-rare steak. Let rest while you prepare the salad.

For salad, toss:

• Enough lettuce to make the size salad you want, of whatever variety you want. The magazine says 2 heads of bibb lettuce. I used a large bowl full of assorted Very Fancy Raven's Garden lettuce.
• 1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, sliced 1/4-inch thick
• 1 C cherry tomatoes, halved
• 2 carrots, shaved with a vegetable peeler
• 1/4 C fresh mint + 1/4 C fresh basil (or whatever herbs you want. Cilantro? Fennel? Sure.)
• Oh, I also used about 1 C shredded red cabbage the first time I made this.

For dressing, stir together:

2 tsp fish sauce

2 tsp toasted sesame oil (which I bought only for this, but is amazing)

2 tsp sugar

1 T minced fresh ginger

1 small minced jalepeno (I used less than half and it was plenty)

2 T lime juice.

Toss dressing with salad. Slice rested steak thinly, then add to salad. Eat.

Bird is the word: spatchcock

Repeat after me: Spatchcock!

Everyday Food tells me this is the proper term for chicken, etc, when you remove the backbone and flatten it for cooking. The technique offers quick roasting (~30 minutes) and thoroughly-crisped skin, plus an opportunity to shout "Spatchcock!!" at your guests or significant other all evening. Instructions here.

In truth, I didn't actually have a whole chicken available for spatchcocking. So I tested a recipe from the magazine with chicken thighs, and it was pretty fantastic, plus speedy and cheap. I'll try again with the real butterflied bird. In case you can't spare $3 for the magazine, here's a summary of the "recipes:"

• Spatchcock Chicken
• ... with Potatoes: Roast chicken with potatoes. Garnish with thyme.
• ... with Chickpeas: Roast chicken with chickpeas. Garnish with cilantro and lime.
• ... Chicken with Tomatoes: Roast chicken with smallish tomatoes and 1/2 C white wine. Garnish with basil.

Above is the chicken with chick peas (also known as garbanzo beans, a name I prefer because it reminds me of muppets). I'm sure you can dream up your own creative variations on flattened poultry, along with ways to use this word in everyday conversation.

Butternut Pasta Sauce

In trying to eat a little less meat recently, I've leaned a bit too heavily on butter and carbs. This dish omits the former and gives you some flexibility with the latter: swap out boring white fettuccine for whole wheat, or use some type of filled pasta -- spinach could work well. And/or mix in some green vegetable (peas? asparagus?) for textural variety.

The sauce is super creamy, without needing an ounce of cream (I omitted from the original recipe). If you want to add some heavy cream, do so before adding the broth at the end.

Roasted Butternut Pasta Sauce

from Everyday Food

Ingredients

• 1 medium butternut squash (about 1 1/2 pounds)
• 1 T olive oil
• 1/2 tsp dried rubbed sage
• 5 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1-2 C chicken or vegetable broth
• 1 lb pasta (something to which sauce will cling)

Directions (in short: roast, puree, and add to pasta)

Preheat oven to 375. Peel, seed, and cube squash -- don't worry about appearances, just make everything equal sized for effective roasting.

Toss squash with olive oil and scatter with garlic on a rimmed baking sheet. Roast until very soft, ~40 minutes, stirring once or twice.

Puree in a food processor or blender. Add just enough chicken or vegetable broth to thin sauce to desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with desired toppings, and serve with a little parmesan, sage, or crushed walnuts.

Mac (or penne) + Cheese

I read a lot of recipes. A good one is almost narrative, with appealing characters, dramatic conflicts, and a satisfying resolution. On a rainy Thursday, I want a comfortable old book and unpretentious food.

Fortunately, fate (disguised as time-wasting at work) let me to this mac + cheese recipe on a friend's very-entertaining blog. Since it comes from New York, I'll pretend it's a bit sophisticated. (Er, wait, it's actually from The Pioneer Woman. Hm. I guess pioneers are chic in a bonnet-wearing way.)

I will definitely follow Kelsey's adaptations to use lots of mustard and pepper. And I'll probably use whole-wheat penne, since I have that at home. Usually I reserve my excitement for dinner until after lunch, but today I'm making an exception.

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.

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.)

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.

White vegetable lasagna

Brian asked when we might start eating solid foods again, and I realized my winter soup binge had gone on too long.

I also had a box of sweet potatoes leftover from Thanksgiving, and this recipe used them all -- a good thing, since sweet potatoes do not generally excite me and they may otherwise have sat in the corner of the kitchen until Easter. This vegetable lasagna used them well: the very

lengthy baking time made them sweet and soft, and the texture worked perfectly in lasagna.

So I've never made lasagna before, and I'm not quite sure this counts: no meat or tomato sauce means this does not have traditional lasagna flavor. But true to lasagna form, it has a long recipe with many layers. Don't be daunted -- there's nothing difficult. Just be generous with seasoning, spices and flavorful ingredients (garlic and onion), and make sure you have everything before you start.

White vegetable lasagna

(adapted from another blogger, who adapted it from Cooking Light. I un-lightened it a bit.)

Ingredients for white sauce:

• 3 1/2 lbs sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced into ½ inch thick slices (I used the food processor -- messy looking slices, but it doesn't matter for this.)
• Cooking spray
• 2 cups milk
• 1 shallot, coarsely chopped
• 1/8 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1/8 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 1/2 T flour
• 3/4 C grated Parmesan

Ingredients for the other layers:

• 1 T olive oil
• 2 cloves garlic, diced
• 10oz fresh spinach
• 10 oz ricotta cheese (I used about 2/3 of a 15oz package)
• 2-3 oz fresh mozzarella, either purchased in pearl form or sliced very thin
• 9 no-boil lasagna noodles

Roast the sweet potato slices. This can be done earlier in the day, or even a day ahead. Preheat oven to 450°. Spray 2 - 3 large baking sheets with cooking spray and spread sweet potato slices in a thin layer. Season generously. Roast 20 minutes, turn, and roast another 20 minutes or until tender (about 40 minutes total). Turn the oven down to 375° (for final baking of lasagna).

Make the white sauce. Combine onion, milk, nutmeg, cinnamon, and bay leaf in a medium sauce pan and heat on medium heat, stirring constantly. Bring to a simmer, then remove from heat and let the sauce stand 15 minutes (this is when the flavors of onion + bay leaf infuse into the milk). Strain out solids and discard, saving the milk mixture. Return milk to the pan and whisk in flour. Season with salt and pepper (about 1/2 tsp each). Cook over medium, whisking, until sauce is thick, about 5 - 8 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in Parmesan.

Saute the spinach (can be completed while milk is resting for 15 minutes). In large pan, saute the garlic briefly in olive oil over medium heat. When softened, add a large handful of spinach -- enough to fill the pan -- and a big sprinkle of salt. Turn the spinach with kitchen tongs as it wilts. If not all the spinach will fit in the pan at once, remove the first batch to a plate when wilted, and add the second half.

Assemble your lasagna in layers: sauce, pasta, sauce, spinach, sweet potatoes, ricotta, pasta, sauce, spinach, sweet potatoes, ricotta, pasta, sauce, mozzarella. All layers should be thin, but take care to spread the sauce sparingly. Spray the interior of a 9x13 baking dish with cooking spray. Spread a thin layer of sauce in the dish, and top with three lasagna noodles (overlapping slightly). Spread a thin layer of sauce on the noodles. Add a layer of spinach, then a layer of sweet potato, then a layer of ricotta -- you may need to crumble/smash the ricotta into bits and spread around, since it's not quite liquid enough to spread. Over ricotta, add a second layer of pasta, then sauce, then spinach, then sweet potatoes, then ricotta, then a final layers of pasta. Top it with the last layer of sauce, then spread your mozzarella over everything -- either dot the top with your pearls of mozzarella, or lay out very thin slices.

Spray a large piece of tinfoil with cooking spray, and tent over assembled dish. Bake at 375° for 30 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for another 20 minutes. Top should begin to brown just slightly. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Happy birthday to me! Dinner at Cafe Bizarro

Tuesday birthdays are not conducive to large parties, but I definitely don't want my special day ignored. After work and an entertaining drink at the UW Club (formerly the Faculty Club, now open to lowly staff as well), Brian and I went to Bizarro for dinner.

I picked Bizarro from Seattle's many restaurants because it's unpretentious, interesting, and has never failed to offer fantastic Italian. The decor is immediately striking , an overwhelming jumble of chandeliers, paintings, mismatched chairs and tables, and all sorts of large odds-and-ends dangling from the ceiling. It's a smallish space (maybe 12 tables?), and my first visit was spent preoccupied about whether I'd be impaled by a falling bicycle or candelabra if we had an earthquake. A sign near the entrance reads, "No one is "fine" with water."

So the decor sets a tone. But once you look beyond it (seemingly impossible at first glance, but trust me), the food stands out. The menu is varied but not overwhelming - a small array of pastas, including seasonal and special dishes.

Our picks last night are pictured above: clockwise from top right, crostini with wine-poached figs and gorgonzola, Brian's seasonal elk sugo, my saucy lasagna, and the empty remains of our bananas foster. All the dishes were excellent, with the possible exception of dessert: Brian liked it, but the taste reminded me overwhelmingly of instant oatmeal. The house cabernet sauvingnon was somewhere between OK and decent -- sweet and fruity, but not at all bold or interesting.

Compared to thai, pho, and other Asian options, Seattle has a pretty limited selection of Italian restaurants -- and nothing I can think of in a very budget price range. Bizarro entrees are $14-18, placing it conveniently between the cheap eats of most midweek dinners and the more fancy fare you'd normally reserve for night-out dinners.

In addition to the atmosphere and food, Bizarro offers one more thing you won't find anywhere else in the city (fortunately discovered on observing our neighbors, not through participation): on birthdays, the servers will present your cake while meowing happy birthday.

Greenwood weekend: Mr Gyros and Pig & Whistle

Moving into a new neighborhood is always a bit scary. But arson is terrifying. 

While Greenwood residents organize patrols of volunteers and firefighters, businesses are still open and busy.

So with normal eagerness to support local business amplified by communal tension throughout the blocks of Greenwood, this weekend included dinner from Mr Gyros and brunch at the Pig & Whistle.

The oniony, messy gyros from Mr Gyros would be a fairly awful first-date choice. For any other occasion, $5 buys dinner. You may question the lack of apostrophe in a seemingly possessive title (apparently "gyros" is the official Greek for the food), but you may not question the softness of pita, the tang of tzatziki, or the tastiness of lamb sliced from a rotating slab.  

This was actually our third time to the Pig & Whistle. The first was with Brian's parents just after our home inspection; the second, we met our sellers for dinner. This Sunday was no significant home-buying milestone, but it did include the Pig & Whistle brunch special: $10 for eggs, bacon, potatoes and a bloody mary. During which I decided breakfast has the very best cocktails: enthusiastic mimosas with their bubbly champagne, the caffeinated hot delight of Irish coffee, and the spicy, peppery, acidic bloody mary.  

I can't quite bring myself to make a joke about Greenwood restaurants being hot, so I'll just say I hope the arsonist is caught very soon so we can all go back to enjoying our excellent local fare without fear.

Apple-braised chicken

8:40pm: Apple braised chicken, the first of the recipes I mentioned in my Amazon Fresh post, was described as "quick." And the instructions are simple, requiring only one pot and a few steps: pan-fry chicken to crisp the skin, remove from pot; saute shallots; add apples; return chicken to pot and bake.

An hour and a half after starting the process, however, the pot still has 20 minutes of braising. Not "quick." I check the recipe to see if I misread that word. At lease everything smells appley and chickeny and delicious, even through my heavy dutch oven lid and sturdy Viking oven door. :)

9:03pm: Opening my pot of braising chicken thighs reveals thoroughly disintegrated apples -- not the the perfectly soft, roasted wedges I had been promised. Unfortunate, but I think it's salvageable.

I let everything continue as instructed for the remaining 20 minutes, with the lid off, then remove the chicken and attempt to reduce the slushy apple/cider/chicken liquid mixture to something like applesauce. Or gravy? Something edible.

9:32pm: I added mashed potatoes to the menu, in place of the now-absent apple wedges. The chicken/apple slush reduced very quickly on the stove, and I think will work as a sauce of sorts. The chicken, fortunately, looks perfect.

Steak au Poivre

Dedicated to my friend Jill, an enthusiastic carnivore and giver of Julia Child cookbooks (from where I took this recipe).

Cosmetic companies and chefs share a secret: decorate a simple item with a french title, and it becomes infinitely more fancy. Steak au poivre, steak with pepper, is easier and faster than most weeknight dinners. With the exception that good cuts of beef are more expensive than many other proteins, there are really no barriers to preparing this.

Steak au Poive, adapted from The French Chef cookbook by Julia Child. (By adapted, I mean I left the book at work, and so made this up from memory.)

• 2 good steaks
• Lots of crushed or coarsely-ground pepper
• Salt
• Oil or butter

Pat the steaks dry with a paper towel, coat lightly with oil, and salt well. Spread pepper over a plate, and press the steaks down to coat the first side. Re-pepper the plate, and flip the steak to do the second side.

Heat a little oil and/or butter in a pan on medium/high. Saute the steaks, turning when browned well on the first side. For medium-rare, this is about 4 minutes on each side. Remove steaks to a plate and tent with foil. They should rest 10-15 minutes. Turn heat to low, or off.

For sauce:

This is actually a sauce recipe for four steaks, but worked well with our two.

• 2T minced shallot
  
• 2T butter
  
• 1/2 C extra dry vermouth
  
• 1/4 C beef stock (I never make beef stock, so I keep something like Better Than Bouillon around -- opt for a reduced-sodium stock or base, so it doesn't get too salty when reducing.)
  

Spoon excess fat from pan, add shallot and vermouth. This should deglaze the pan easily, but scrape up any sticky bits. Alcohol should cook off very quickly. Add stock. You can also pour in any juices leaked from the resting steak. Reduce to sauce consistency. (The original recipe called for cornstarch in the stock, but I didn't use any and it seems unnecessary. This sauce reduced nicely.) Turn off heat and swirl in butter. Spoon over steaks before serving.

Potatoes are the traditional accompaniment. I roasted fingerlings, because the timing was easiest: toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and put them in the oven before you start the meat. They'll bake at 475 for 20-30 minutes -- if they're done early, just keep them in the warm oven until serving.

To brighten the otherwise-brown plate: present with a colorful vegetable, red wine, and a very satisfied smile at preparing such a damned fancy french meal. :)