Fancy Food Show: Not Completely Stupid

The 2010 Fancy Food Show has wrapped up in New York City, and while some of the offerings fall into the head-scratching or just plain "Eww" category—haggis potato chips, anybody?—we have to admit that some of them make sense. Check out the pesto company that's designed packaging to keep the contents from spoiling. Our favorite, though, is hot chocolate on a stick, which comes in several flavors, including salted caramel.

Eggplant Pasta Sauce

Over the weekend Salon ran an interesting recipe for eggplant-based pasta sauce, written by a former eggplant hater. Admittedly, eggplant is a tricky vegetable. Properly prepared, it has a wonderful smoky silkiness. Badly prepared, it's bitter, spongy, and mushy. And, let's face it, no matter how well you cook it, the color is not terribly appetizing. How a vegetable that is so beautiful on the outside can end up such a hideous gray-brown in the pot is one of the mysteries of cooking.

This recipe, however, sounds delicious, and we can't wait to try it.

Hot Weather Got You Down? Make a Watermelon Salad

June in Virginia is jaw-droppingly hot, and yesterday the temperature topped 100 degrees. By dinnertime we could not bring ourselves to use the stove or the grill—that would be redundant, given that stepping outside was like sliding into a pizza oven. Clearly, the weather called for salad. A nice, soothing watermelon salad. For us, there's nothing better to eat, or easier to prepare, after a scorching day. Paired with some cool Chardonnay, this composed salad makes an excellent light dinner. It also makes a good first course for a summer dinner party.

Soothing Watermelon Salad for Two

A few large handfuls of lettuce—any kind will do, from crunchy Romaine to mesclun mix
3 to 4 cups cubed watermelon
2/3 cup crumbled feta cheese (you may want more or less, depending on how much you love it)
3 T. chopped mint
Juice of one juicy lime
Sea salt and fresh-ground pepper

1. Spread lettuce on two good-size plates.

2. Divide watermelon, feta, and mint, and arrange them atop the plates.

3. Sprinkle with lime juice. Half a lime per plate is probably plenty, depending on how juicy it  is. Try a cube of melon midway through the sprinkling to make sure you aren't making the salad too sour.

4. Season with salt and pepper, but be careful not to oversalt, given the feta.

That's it! Insanely easy, deliciously cool, and perfect for hot summer nights.

Perfect Poached Eggs: Simple, but Not Always Easy

Being cholesterol-minded people, we aren't big egg eaters, but every once in a while, we indulge—with a holiday soufflé, or when we want to turn a vegetable side dish into an easy main course. When we saw Susie Middleton's recipe for Brown-Butter Asparagus with Pine Nuts, we knew that it would make a fine light dinner if we topped it with a poached egg.


Poaching eggs is a simple process, but a lot of people have trouble with it. So they buy expensive, fussy egg-poaching devices, which end up steaming the eggs instead of poaching them. Also, as anyone who's ever struggled with overcooked egg proteins knows, they are a pain to clean up. 


In fact, you don't need a special device. You just need a shallow pan of boiling water, a slotted spoon, some paper towels, a gentle hand, and a sharp eye.


Two Perfect Poached Eggs


1. Bring a skillet of water to a boil, then turn it down to simmer.


2. Crack your eggs and slip them into the simmering water, taking care not to break the yolks. (Some people crack their eggs onto plates and slip them into the water, but we've never needed to do this; we do, however, avoid cracking eggs on the side of the pan, as that can break the yolk.) Quickly add the second egg, so the two finish cooking at the same time.


3. Lay out some thick paper towels, grab hold of a slotted spoon, and keep an eye on your eggs. After about 90 seconds (no more than two minutes), start to examine them. Be gentle! The key to good poached eggs is not to boil them too hard or handle them too roughly. You want to make sure that the whites are completely cooked; after that, it's a matter of taste. If you like runny yolks, the eggs are ready when the whites are cooked; if you like them harder, let them go another minute or two.


4. Carefully slide the slotted spoon under the first egg and remove it to the paper towels so it can drain. Working quickly, take the other egg out of the water and let it drain too. Be careful not to break the yolks as you remove the eggs from the water. 


5. Once the eggs have drained, they're ready to be transferred to your plate. Again, gentleness is critical: depending on how you are serving the eggs, it may be easier to tip them off the paper towel than to use a spoon again.


This may seem like a fussy and anxiety-provoking exercise, but after you do it a few times, you get a sense of how long to let the eggs poach and how to handle them. And if you make a few mistakes, chances are it will be no big deal—there are worse tragedies in life than a broken or overcooked yolk. 

Favorite Cookbooks: Fast, Fresh & Green

We've been excitedly waiting for Susie Middleton's vegetable cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green, ever since we heard that she was writing it. Susie, a former chief editor of Fine Cooking magazine, is a great cook not only because of her formidable grasp of technique but because of the sheer excitement she feels for cooking and the pleasure she takes from it. She appreciates simple ingredients and unfussy preparations. And she's a really good writer.

Whenever we see a Susie-Middleton-bylined article in Fine Cooking, we dive in, knowing we'll read something good.

Our copy of Fast, Fresh & Green arrived just after we'd bought a big bag of asparagus at Costco. Normally, when we have an asparagus windfall, we roast it for an easy side dish or stir-fry it as part of an Asian main course. But this time we were interested in what Susie would do.

So we split our big batch of asparagus between two of her recipes: Brown-Butter Asparagus with Pine Nuts and Speedy Stir-Fried Asparagus with Toasted Garlic. Each recipe featured just a few ingredients beyond its vegetable star—a little butter or oil, a little lemon juice or garlic—and took just a few minutes to make. The result: amazing flavor. We still don't understand the alchemy, but we'll keep making these for a long time.

A couple of days later, we tried Susie's Sweet Potato "Mini-Fries" with Limey Dipping Sauce. Once again, she used just a few ingredients—oven-baked sweet potatoes that tasted for all the world like their fried cousins, and mayonnaise spiked with lime zest and juice—and came up with something extraordinary. (Tim used the rest of the lime mayo on his fish, with fine results.)

Some people might hear "vegetable cookbook" and think "Huh? I already know how to cook vegetables." But Susie's recipes take basic produce to a much higher level.

You won't be sorry if you buy this book.

How to Tackle a Spaghetti Squash

We should be happy with our improved food choices in Virginia—not just a wider range of groceries but an excellent selection of farmers' markets. Still, we miss the weekly box of produce we used to get in the summer from Fort Hill Farm in New Milford, Connecticut. Fortunately, we saved a lot of the recipes that came with the box and can draw on them when we need to. The food-loving farmers at Fort Hill put a lot of thought into getting the most flavor out of their produce.


Spaghetti squash, for example. Every supermarket has a pile of these big pale yellow vegetables, but people tend to walk right past them. Maybe they don't know how to fix them; maybe they've tried them and found the results to be kind of boring. After all, unadorned cooked squash can be pretty blah.


The trick to spaghetti squash is using it for its texture rather than for its flavor. Its stringy flesh resembles crunchy pasta and makes an excellent vehicle for any kind of sauce, including basic tomato.


In this recipe from Fort Hill Farm, simple ingredients turn a shrugworthy vegetable into something delicious.


Spaghetti Squash à la Farmer Paul


1 spaghetti squash
4 or 5 cloves garlic, minced
Freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese
extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt and fresh-ground black pepper


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.


2. Cut the squash in half lengthwise, and scoop out the seeds. Place both squash halves cut side down on a lightly oiled baking dish, and add about one inch of water. Cover and bake for 20 or 30 minutes, depending on the size of the squash. When you can stick a fork through the skin without much effort, it's done.


3. Remove the squash from the oven and set it on a dish to cook. When it's cool enough to handle, scrape the squash flesh from the skin using a fork. As you do this, the squash will turn to spaghetti-like strings. Set aside.


4. Heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat in a large skillet. Add the garlic, and sauté for one minute or until the garlic is just fragrant. Add the squash and toss well. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately with lots of fresh-grated Parmesan or Romano cheese. Enjoy!

Update: A Thumbs-Up on Wine Aerators

A while back, we questioned whether it was worth investing in wine-aerating devices such as the Rabbit Pourer. Yesterday Tim's brother Ron gave a rave review of the Vinturi:

I poured Gloria a glass [of Côtes du Rhône Mon Coeur], from which she took a drink and expressed little enthusiasm. But wait! I had forgotten to use our new gadget that introduces oxygen as you pour. I poured from her glass to another through the bubbler, and the change in her expression was instantaneous. I learned my lesson, and poured mine similarly, and we both agreed that the wine was the best of those you sent that we have tried to date.

Ron and Gloria are experienced wine tasters, and we trust their judgment. Consider the wine aerator vindicated!

Find Your Local Farmers' Market

When we moved from Connecticut to Virginia, we looked forward to a longer growing season and more local produce. But we were sad to leave our CSA farm and our town's farmers' market. Though small, the Saturday morning market always offered choice organic produce as well as bread and pastries, cut flowers, potted plants, soap, and sometimes a pen of friendly goats for the kids to pet. From Memorial Day through the fall, we shopped there regularly.

We feared that the hardcore suburban culture we were moving to wouldn't be able to match our old farmers' market for charm or quality. But we were very wrong. In Fairfax County, where we live, there are farmers' markets nearly all week long, in one city or another. As we discovered on Saturday when we visited the market in Reston, this overdeveloped metropolitan area is surrounded by communities where people not only grow beautiful produce but make wonderful cheeses, honey, and baked goods. The Reston market features locally raised meat as well as crafts, clothing, and jewelry. On Saturday there was a bluegrass band and a magic show for the children.

Naturally, we emptied our wallets, coming home with bags of produce, bread, and, as an experiment, bee pollen (we'll let you know if it changes our life as advertised). It felt good knowing that our money was supporting local growers, and we had fun just walking around in the Saturday morning crowd, scarfing free samples and taking in the scene.

Chances are, there's a farmers' market near you: just plug your zip code into the search function on  the Local Harvest Web site. Even if you don't have a market close by, it's worth making a special trip to find one.

Bargain Wine of the Week: Safeway Loyalty Card

On a recent trip to Idaho, we had to buy a case of wine for a charity auction at an industry conference. The town liquor store didn't sell wine and the local groceries' selection was awful. What to do?

Our only hope was the town's Safeway supermarket. There we found a good selection, especially of Washington state wines, but like most supermarkets, the prices were about 33 percent higher than we're used to paying for our $10 value wines. There was, however, a much lower price posted near most of the wine. "What's that?" we asked.

It turns out that if you have a Safeway near you, you have a bargain wine store with a moderately good selection. There are two catches: One, you have to sign up for the chain's loyalty club card; Two, you have to buy six bottles at a time to get an additional 10 percent.

When we returned home, we checked out the local Safeway (not our usual supermarket) to make sure the rules applied there as well. They did. The wine selection was different because, we assume, the regional buyer has her choice of wines to buy.

Here's a general rule. If a wine is $13, the loyalty card takes $2 off the price — and buying six bottles reduces the price another $1. You don't have to buy six of the same wine. You can mix and match.

Yesterday we found many of the wines that we've reviewed on the shelves of our local Safeway — at less than $10, just as we'd found them online or at bargain discount wine stores.

For examples, Red Bicyclette Chardonnay was listed at $12.49, but we got it for $9.99. Beringer Founders Reserve was listed at $11.29, but we paid $8.99.

Your local chain supermarket might have a similar deal, but we haven't found such a supermarket deal where we live. So if you have a Safeway, you have a discount wine store in your town.

Rave Review: Champagne Mangos

We love mangos, especially on a hot summer day. But we don't love dealing with mango pits, which take up a lot of valuable space inside the fruit and can be extremely fibrous. So when we walked into Whole Foods and saw a big display of yellow Champagne mangos, and a sign that claimed they were bred to have a slim, small pit, we were intrigued.

Whole Foods was selling them for a dollar apiece—great by mango standards, but these were about half the size of a regular mango. Still, we thought, if the pit really was small, $1 was a good price.

As soon as we sliced into one, we fell in love: the pit was extremely slender, as promised, and the surrounding flesh contained very few annoying fibers. The silky flesh was the perfect balance of sweetness and tartness.

If you see Champagne mangos in your supermarket or produce store, be sure to try them. You will not be sorry.

Make It Yourself: Barbecue Sauce

Walk down the condiments aisle of your local supermarket and you'll see an amazing array of barbecue sauces, ranging from sticky-sweet to vinegar-sharp to red-hot. This makes sense, given the wide array of barbecue styles in this country.

Some people like the sour tang of Carolina barbecue, while others prefer the tomatoey, molasses-rich flavors of the Midwest. Whatever you like, it's very easy to make your own sauce, adjusting the base to suit your taste. If you like a thick sauce, all you need is ketchup and a few basic ingredients; then you just need to figure out how hot, sweet, and sour you want to make it.

Over the years we've learned that barbecue sauce is very flexible. Heat can come from cayenne, chili powder, or even bottled hot sauce. If you don't have molasses to provide the sweetness, brown sugar works fine. Don't have red wine vinegar? Plain old white distilled will also work.

Here's our usual recipe:

Barbecue Sauce

1 T. olive oil
1 small onion, minced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 cup ketchup
1/2 cup red wine (old leftover wine works well here)
2 T. red wine, sherry, or balsamic vinegar
2 T. molasses
1 t. Liquid Smoke
1 t. Dijon mustard
1 t. chili powder
1/4 t. cayenne pepper
a few grinds of black pepper

1. Heat oil in a saucepan, and add onions and garlic; cook for a few minutes, until soft and golden.

2. Add everything else. Stir, cover, and cook for a few minutes. Taste to determine how you want to adjust the seasonings. You might want more cayenne, more vinegar, or more molasses.

This lasts a very long time in the refrigerator, so if you make a big batch early in the season, you'll have it on hand when you need it.

Bargain Wine of the Week: JT Cellars 2009 Chardonnay

The label pictured above is slightly incorrect. The wine we're discussing today is the JT Cellars Chardonnay from the Central Coast, not Santa Barbara County. The Central Coast bottling uses grapes from Monterey rather than the now more famous wine region to its south, Santa Barbara.


This is actually a wine from Starry Night Winery, which uses grapes from good vineyards that it doesn't own in order to keep its underutilized facilities humming with fruit from other vineyards. In this case, a small vineyard near the town of Monterey. Starry Night can buy grapes a little cheaper and produce a serviceable wine at a lower price under a different label. 


This wine actually started out as an $18 bottle of wine that we bought for $9, so keep an eye on the price. At $9 it's a great bargain.


This is not a big oaky, California Chardonnay, but a crisp yet round (a good shot of butterscotch defines it) and refreshing wine for fish, poultry, white pasta sauces and salads. Twenty percent of the wine is fermented in oak barrels to give it a hint of vanilla, but the apple and melon flavors keep it summer smart. 

Bargain Wine of the Week: Big House White 2009

This quiet little inexpensive bottle of wine from the Central Coast of California that costs $7.99 (some places $7.49) has an incredible ratings history.

In the last 15 years, this bottle has scored several 90s and has missed a rating of some kind only two years in all of that time. We bought this bottle some time ago because we saw it on somebody's best 100 list and somebody else's best 10 under $10.

This wine has a hint of grapefruit on the acidy side and lychee on the sweet side of your mouth (although it's a dry wine). The lingering taste after it goes down is the best apricot you ever ate. It is best for summer sipping, but don't take that as a knock or a hedge. The wine is perfect for Asian fare or mixed appetizers.

The winery owners have some fun with the name. Here's what it says on the rear label:

"Yadda, yadda, yadda, warden! Break outta the confines of stuffy tradition with the Stelvin (screw top), an unrepentently practical closure by a long stretch. Cagney or Robinson would never deem it a dirty screw. Yo, the '09 Big House White is an extremely elegant, diverse blend viz. Malvasia Bianco, Muscat Canelli, Viognier and Gruner Vetliner. It more than Sing-Sings for its supper."

One more thing: it is available in 3 liter boxes for $22. That's the equivalent of four bottles. Nice deal.

"I Am Never Bored by Staying Home"

Sorry about the scanty number of recent posts, but this has been a deadline-heavy week and we've just now eked out enough time to check around online and see what's been going on in our absence.

Sure enough, there's lots of good stuff out there, including the Happiness Project's interview with BoingBoing founder Mark Frauenfelder. He's written a book on the do-it-yourself ethos, which includes cooking as well as carpentry. The whole piece is worth reading, but this section really stood out:

What's something you know now about happiness that you didn't know when you were 18 years old?

When I was 18 I thought that I had to go out and find things to make me happy. Now I am happiest when I don't venture past my property line. There is a world of adventure in my house and yard -- books, my family, drawing and painting, making yogurt, sauerkraut, and kombucha, beekeeping, raising chickens, making things. I still enjoy going out and seeing the rest of the world, but I also am at the point where I am never bored by staying home. Life gets more interesting as I grow older. 

Prosecco — the Perfect Hot Weather Drink?

We spent much of Memorial Day weekend at the shore, marinating in salt air and sunshine. As if to commemorate the onset of summer, the temperature rose steadily over three days, from pleasantly cool to sledgehammer hot. We did the usual vacation things (read, kayaked, lazed) and ate the usual vacation food (cool salads, local seafood, bags of delicious salty junk). And we think we hit upon the perfect beverage for hot weather and vacations: Prosecco.

This Italian sparkling wine is lighter than Champagne, and lower in both price and alcohol content. This last quality may be the best: you can enjoy a few glasses of Prosecco without reaping the dreaded "Champagne head." Prosecco can range in flavor from dry to slightly sweet, so it's worth tasting a few bottles to find out what you like. Prosecco is generally too light to accompany a meal, but there's nothing better, in our opinion, for lazy summer porches and patios.

We drank a LaMarca Prosecco that cost slightly more than our customary benchmark, but you can find a decent bottle for less than $10 (check out the right side of the LaMarca page).

Don't Be Afraid to Substitute

We've all done it—forgotten to buy an ingredient for our recipe or noticed at the last minute that we were out of something we needed. Well, this week we really did it. We planned to make a green papaya salad using a piece of fruit we'd bought at our beloved giant Asian market, but realized when we cut into it that it wasn't a papaya but a mango! In our haste, we'd grabbed the wrong kind of fruit without noticing.

What to do? We'd never used a green mango before. Consulting the Internet, we discovered that you can make a Thai green mango salad. Fine. But we were also out of limes and basil, two key ingredients. And our bean sprouts were in sorry shape.

We could have scrapped the whole idea of making a salad, but we'd already cut into the mango and didn't want to waste it. So we looked more closely at the recipe.

We had plenty of lemons; why not use them for the salad dressing? And our garden was rapidly filling up with mint, a close cousin of basil. We decided to substitute.

The resulting salad was delicious. Sure, lime would have been more authentically Thai, but the lemon juice was perfectly acceptable. Mint provided a flavor that was more Vietnamese than Thai, but that was fine with us. Bean sprouts would have added a nice crunch, but the salad worked fine without them.

The lesson: never be afraid to substitute. You may not end up with the exact recipe you're looking at, but you will probably end up with something pretty damn good.

Celebrate Summer with Panzanella

We aren't huge fans of most of the Food Network's shows, because even when the food looks good, it tends to contain horrific levels of fat. But we have a soft spot for Barefoot Contessa Ina Garten, whose recipes combine elegance and flavor, and who has a good personality to boot. After our beloved Nigella, she's the only television cook we'd like to spend a long train ride with.

Over the weekend, we caught an old episode in which she made panzanella, an Italian bread salad that combines a sharp dressing with croutons and crunchy vegetables. In her TV version Ina Greeked up the salad with feta and oregano, but we tried her online recipe, which relied on basil and capers for Italian flavor.

Man, was this good. One problem we have with bread salads is that they get way too mushy after they sit for a while, but Ina's recipe relies in large part on red and yellow peppers, which hold their water, so to speak. Even after two days, the salad is still highly edible.

Combined with a cool Chardonnay and a hot patio, it made a great summer dinner.

Make It Yourself: Chai Latte

At Starbucks and other upscale  coffee joints, chai lattes provide a lower-caffeine alternative to espresso drinks, but they're very expensive. Although you can buy boxes of chai concentrate, these are also overpriced and usually way too sweet.

It's very easy to make your own chai—and your own concentrate, for that matter. All you need is tea, fresh ginger, chai spice, milk, and a strainer.

We like Brooke Bond's loose Red Label tea, but you can use plain teabags if that's all you've got. You can even use prespiced tea, if you're feeling extra-lazy. But it's also easy to make your own chai mix:

Chai recipes vary, but usually contain a mix of ground cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, ginger, allspice, coriander, and a little black pepper. Experiment to get the mix you like—say, using equal amounts of cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, ginger, and allspice, half as much coriander, and a touch of pepper. Keep an ongoing jar of spice mix and adjust it as you like. (We think Starbucks' version is way too heavy on the cloves and way too light on the ginger, but this is strictly a matter of taste.) You'll only need about a quarter teaspoon or so for each batch of chai that you make.

Once you've got the spice mix, you're ready to make your lattes. This recipe from Dhyanyoga Centers tells you how to make a good couple of cups. If you want concentrate for future batches, simply make more of the basic water/spice/ginger/tea mix, and set it aside; when you want chai, just add milk and heat.

A homemade chai latte costs a fraction of the $4.50 and up that Starbucks charges, and if you keep a container of the concentrate on hand, you can make a quick cup in much less time than it would take you to grab the car keys and head to a store.

New Mexico Green Chile

When traveling, we rarely pass up an opportunity to taste the local fare. We can't remember too many times when a local dish disappointed in a serious way — with the possible exception of the salty fingernail-sized fish served for breakfast in Malaysia.

When Tim biked his way through the mountains of New Mexico a few years ago, he made a point of delving into the local cuisine, which is laden with red and green chiles. His favorite was New Mexico Green Chile Stew, which happens to be incredibly quick and easy to make. This recipe is taken from "Real New Mexico Chile" by Sandy Szwarc (Golden West Publishers)

.

New Mexico Green Chile Stew
8 ounces lean pork, cut into half-inch or 1-inch cubes
1 Tbsp. flour
1 Tbsp. canola or olive oil
1 large baking potato, cut into half-inch or 1-inch cubes
1-1/2 cups chopped tomatoes
1/2 cup chopped, roasted and peeled New Mexico chiles (or two small cans of diced green chiles)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 tsp. New Mexico red chile powder (or to taste)
1 quart chicken stock
1/2 tsp. ground cumin

Coat the pork lightly with the flour.
In a saucepan or dutch oven, heat the oil over high heat and fry the meat until golden.
Add the remaining ingredients and lower the heat to medium low.
Cover and simmer until the meat is very tender, about 4 hours.
Serve with flour tortillas.

What could be easier? And, it tastes great.

Bargain Wine of the Week: Keesha Vineyards Sonoma County Sangiovese 2006

While the French and Italians label their wine primarily according to region, Americans (North and South) tend to label by grape varietal. Thus, an American Cabernet Sauvignon could be from Napa Valley, Sonoma County or Chile, and the label usually makes the region abundantly clear along with, but secondary to, the fact that it's a Cabernet.


But in France, a wine is primarily identified as a Rhône, a Burgundy or a Bordeaux. A Rhône might be further identified, or even primarily sold, as a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, a Côte Rôtie or a less ambitious Côte du Rhône, but all are primarily made with Syrah grapes. A Burgundy might be identified as a Côte de Beaune, a Côte d'Or or a Côte de Nuits, but in the vineyard the reds start as Pinot Noir and the whites are made from Chardonnay grapes.


In Italy, a Tuscan wine is likely to be sold as a Brunello or a Chianti, but the Brunello is made with Sangiovese grapes and the Chianti is a blend that has Sangiovese at its foundation.


Sangiovese is a medium-bodied grape with deep color and it has begun to catch on a bit in California's wine regions. We ran across a deal on a Sangiovese from Sonoma County that turned out to be a heckuva wine bargain. 


The Keesha vineyards Sonoma County Sangiovese 2006 started life as a $18.50 bottle of wine, but for whatever reason the price we found was $8.99. It was certainly worth a try, and we did not regret it. 


American Sangiovese tends to be a bit fruitier than its Italian ancestors, but that means that it's drinkable sooner. This young Keesha Sangiovese was drinkable when we opened the bottle, and even better the second day (after a night with a vaccuum seal). 


This is a $20 bottle value easily, with its Super-Tuscan qualities, deep color and cherry and blackberry flavors cut with a little oak and a lot of spice. This is one of those medium-bodied reds that drinks well with chicken and pasta as well as veal and pork.


If you see this wine and the price is anywhere near $10, pick up a couple of bottles. You won't regret it. 

The Great Spice Debate

Is it really true that you should replace your spices every six months? We've never done this, because it would cost a fortune. Also, we've found that although some spices lose their zing after a few years, others hold up just fine for a very long time. We moved a container of crushed red pepper flakes from San Francisco to Sonoma County to Oakland to Connecticut, and those flakes packed a punch right up to the end.

Salon addressed this issue a few days ago, and it's worth reading. The author not only delves into the six-month question but gives excellent tips for getting the most out of your spice investment. In a nutshell: buy them whole, and grind them as you need them. Ground spices give up the flavor ghost much sooner than their whole counterparts, because their essential oils dry up.

"Buy whole" is good advice, and we try to do that. Overall, though, we hang onto our spices as long as we can and replace them as we need to.

Photos to Make You Want to Drink Wine

We all know that National Geographic photographers take some of the most evocative, memorable nature photos we have ever seen. NatGeo's Traveler magazine does the same for travel destinations. On the two magazines' website currently is a photo slide show of vineyards around the world. We guarantee that it'll make you want to uncork a bottle tonight.

Check out the vineyard slide show.

Grow It Yourself: A Container Garden of Herbs and Lettuce

Although it's nice to have a garden plot in which we can grow our favorite vegetables, many of us don't have the room or the time. But that doesn't mean we have to do without good herbs and lettuces. Most of these grow just fine in pots on a sunny patio or balcony.

Sage, basil, thyme, rosemary, mint, parsley, cilantro, and other herbs all thrive in sunny containers. Even if you don't have a lot of sun, you can still grow lettuce in pots, fitting three or four heads to a good-size container. When it's ready to eat, just snip off what you need as you need it. Right now we're growing mustard greens and butterhead lettuce. (Because lettuce bolts at the end of its natural life—especially when the weather turns hot—it's good to have a backup container of seedlings to take over once your first crop is done.)

For us, one of the joys of warm weather is being able to stroll onto the patio and snip off enough mixed herbs and greens for a salad. For just a few cents and very little effort, we have some of the ingredients for a delicious light dinner.

Bulgur with Cauliflower and Almonds

Here's the recipe that we mentioned yesterday. Thanks to smoked paprika and careful toasting, the final product has much more flavor than its name implies—the cauliflower tastes nutty and bears no resemblance to the mushy, smelly vegetable you may remember from childhood.

This would make an excellent side dish or pot-luck contribution, although we were happy to eat it for a main course.

Bulgur is most commonly used in tabbouli and can be found near the rice in most supermarkets. You can also find it at health food stores and Middle Eastern markets, or online.

The recipe is adapted from Mark Bittman's wonderful How to Cook Everything Vegetarian.


Bulgur with Cauliflower and Almonds

1/2 cup almonds
3 T. olive oil
1/2 cup minced red onion
3 cups finely chopped cauliflower
salt and pepper
1 cup bulgur
2 t. smoked paprika
1 1/2 cup vegetable stock
1/2 cup chopped parsley

1. Place a dry skillet over medium-high heat and add the almonds. Roast them for a few minutes, until they darken and turn fragrant. Be sure to stir them frequently to avoid scorching. Remove them, and set them aside.

2. Add the oil to the skillet, then the red onion, and cook for a couple of minutes until it is soft and beginning to color. Add the chopped cauliflower and season with salt and pepper. Cook for five to ten minutes, until the cauliflower is dry and golden.

3. Add the bulgur, stir, and keep stirring until it begins to toast—about five minutes.

4. Add the smoked paprika, stir in the stock, and bring to a boil. Turn down the heat, and simmer the mixture for 15 minutes.

4. While the cauliflower and bulgur mixture is simmering, finely chop the almonds. When the 15 minutes are up, add the almonds and parsley and fluff with a fork. Put the lid back on and let sit for a few minutes.

5. Adjust the seasonings and serve. (Mark Bittman suggests adding grated manchego cheese, but we liked this fine without the optional cheese garnish.)

Serves four as a side dish, two as a hefty main course.

The Frugal Pantry: Smoked Paprika

We never give up on an ingredient just because it's become passé. Goat cheese? Love it! Sun-dried tomatoes? We use them all the time. Same for pine nuts. The only formerly trendy item that we've ever burned out on is balsamic vinegar, and that's because we mindlessly overused it, for years. And years.

Smoked paprika popped up on the American cooking radar a few years ago, when Spanish cooking was all the rage, and for all we know, it's now scorned by the cognoscenti. But we continue to love it for the rich flavor it adds to everything it touches. It gives forthright lentil and quinoa salad surprising depth. Sprinkled on pita croutons, it amps up a plain green salad.

Last night we used smoked paprika in a cauliflower and bulgur sauté with happy results. (Recipe tomorrow; really, it's much, much better than it sounds.)

As the photo attests, you can now find smoked paprika in the spice section of your supermarket. Or, if you like to scour the discount stores, as we do, you often can pick up a tin of the Spanish stuff for about $5. Either way, a few dollars' investment will buy you a lot of flavor.

Got a good recipe that uses smoked paprika? Please share!

Quick Tomato Jam

Some dishes, while unquestionably delicious, can seem monotonous after a few bites—pasta with pesto, say, or fettucine alfredo. They need a sharp contrasting flavor for balance. They need tomato jam.

Fortunately, tomato jam is easy and fast to prepare.

Simply heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet, then add a pint of whole grape tomatoes. If you like, you can also add a teaspoon of minced garlic.

When the tomatoes get hot, they will begin to split their skins. Using a potato masher or another blunt instrument, gently press down on the tomatoes to push out their juices. (Be careful not to squirt yourself in the eye, and it's probably best not to wear your favorite white silk shirt for this maneuver.)

Add a bay leaf and a scant half teaspoon of herbs de provence or thyme, and let the mixture simmer for a few minutes, until the juices have thickened.

Is tomato jam a condiment or a side dish? We think it falls somewhere in between. It's much less concentrated (and sweet) than ketchup, but you wouldn't eat a big bowl of it. Generally, a couple of tablespoons are enough to provide an excellent foil for soufflés, burgers, and cheesy dishes in need of an acid boost. It's good served hot or at room temperature.

There's Still No Place Like Home

Our very first post at Eat Well, Eat Cheap extolled the pleasures of dining at home on a Friday night. But by dinnertime last night, we were both fried and a bit cranky—Tim from a week of relentless meetings, Ruth from a massive case of poison ivy. We debated whether to go out for a quick, cheap dinner—there's a good Vietnamese place about a mile away—but decided we were too fried and cranky even for that. We also lacked the energy to go grocery shopping for something grillable.

Grudgingly, we decided to pull a meal together from what we had on hand.

Mint had recently popped up in the herb bed, with a vengeance. We also had spring roll wrappers, rice noodles, cilantro, and fake-chicken strips from Trader Joe's. With a grumpy sigh, we supposed we could make our own version of summer rolls. It would be easy, at least, and allow us to quickly dispense with the problem of dinner.

So we boiled water for the noodles and sautéed the fake-chicken strips. (Normally, we would use tofu and shrimp, but we didn't have any.) We washed big lettuce leaves from the garden and tore up the mint and cilantro. We made a dipping sauce from crunchy peanut butter, hoisin sauce, soy sauce, and sriracha.

We shared a little Simonassi while we soaked, stuffed, and rolled up the rice paper sheets. (After much trial and error, we've finally figured out how to handle these brittle rice sheets: dip them in warm water and let them rest on a dish towel for about 30 seconds.) A thunderstorm had left the air heavy and wet, and the damp floor tiles in the kitchen reminded us of the hotels we'd stayed in in Mexico. Etta James sang on the radio. The dogs lounged on the sofa, happy to have us home with them.

We worked side by side, Ruth laying down the filling, Tim rolling up the rice sheets. One after another, our ad hoc summer rolls filled up the platter. Sam Cooke began to sing "You Send Me."

And suddenly we realized that we were having a great Friday night.

Make It Yourself: Croutons

Does anybody really like store-bought croutons, those overpriced, throat-scorching little cubes of processed nastiness that taste only of salt and have an ingredient list as long as your little finger? Okay, that's a little judgmental. But the fact is, homemade croutons are so easy and economical that once you get into the habit of making your own, you will forget all about the kind on the supermarket shelf.

All you need is some bread. Fresh bread works fine, but we like to use stale leftover heels. By stale we mean anything from two days old to rock-hard. Any type of bread will do. White bread, wheat bread, pita bread—anything nonsweet works (though if you want cinnamon-raisin croutons in your caesar salad, go for it).

Cut or tear the bread to the desired size. For salads, we like roughly one-inch cubes that will stand up to crunchy greens and a strong dressing.

Put a skillet on medium high heat and add a little olive oil. You don't need much, just a couple of tablespoons for about two cups of croutons. Once the oil is hot, toss in your bread and, using two spoons, keep tossing it to spread around the oil. Then let it cook, tossing again every few minutes to avoid scorching.

When the cubes are beginning to brown, add salt, pepper, and anything else you like. Chopped garlic is good. So are thyme or sage—dried or fresh. Last night we put smoked paprika on whole-wheat pita croutons, and it tasted great. Let the croutons cook for a few more minutes, until they are golden. That's it.

Leftover croutons will last a couple of days, but we've found that we rarely have leftovers.

Asparagus Pesto

No sooner did we plug Mark Bittman's great vegetarian cookbook than the New York Times columnist proved again why we love him, with this simple but creative recipe for asparagus pesto, published in yesterday's Dining section:

Asparagus Pesto

Salt

1 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-inch segments

1 clove garlic, or more to taste

1/4 cup pine nuts

1/4 cup olive oil, or more as desired

3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Freshly ground black pepper

Juice of 1/2 lemon, or to taste.

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it. Add the asparagus and cook until fully tender but not mushy, 8 to 10 minutes. Drain well, reserving some of the cooking liquid, and let the asparagus cool slightly.

2. Transfer the asparagus to a food processor and add the garlic, pine nuts, 2 tablespoons of the oil, Parmesan, a pinch of salt and a couple of tablespoons of the cooking liquid. Process the mixture, stopping to scrape down the sides of the container if necessary, and gradually add the remaining oil and a bit more of the reserved cooking liquid to moisten if necessary. Add the lemon juice and season with salt and pepper to taste, pulse one last time, and serve over pasta, fish or chicken (or cover and refrigerate for up to a day).

Yield: 4 to 6 servings (about 1 1/2 cups).

Got Ramps? Try This Pasta Recipe

For Eastern locavores—those hardy souls who try to cook only what they can find locally—ramps hold a special significance, because they appear in the spring and usher in the season's produce. Also known as wild leeks, ramps have scallion-like bulbs and a garlicky flavor. Some people know how to spot them in the wild, but you can also buy them at farmers' markets and, if you're lucky, your local supermarket. They don't appear for long, so grab them when you have a chance.

So, you're probably wondering, what exactly does one do with these magical vegetables? As it happens, guest blogger Krysta Doerfler has a great recipe:

I was at first intrigued by ramps and wasn't sure how I would prepare this beautiful vegetable. Luckily, I came across a recipe that is simple and perfect for one of the first warm nights of spring when you can eat outside. And while the ingredients include some tomatoes, which are not in season, this gave me a chance to seek out any grocers that sell local hydroponic tomatoes and to snatch up little pots of herbs that will provide me with a bounty for several months.  

As I began slicing the ramps and the sweet, earthy aroma filled my kitchen, I knew that this was going to be a great meal. I suppose the anchovies could be optional, but I found they added the right amount of a salty kick. This recipe was taken from a local restaurant and the chef didn't give any measurements because he wants people to experiment with what works for their taste buds.  

Ramp Pasta 

Fresh Roma tomatoes, chopped 

Ramps (bulbs and greens chopped separately) 

Basil

Parsley
Grated parmesan
Olive oil
Anchovy filets
Precooked al dente pasta

1. Clean the ramps well under cold water and snip off the root. You can use the greens as well as the bulbs, just like a scallion. In this recipe we'll use both, but separate them because  the bulbs require slightly longer cooking than the greens. 

2. Add olive oil to a hot pan. Saute anchovy fillets, tomatoes, and ramp bulbs.

          3. Add the pasta to pan and toss. Add and toss the ramp greens, parsley, basil and parmesan.  
       

Favorite Cookbooks: How to Cook Everything Vegetarian

We recently caught up with our friend Kathi and learned that she's become a vegetarian; furthermore, she's working toward becoming a vegan. Naturally, her family and friends wonder what this will mean for them—will they have to be vegans too?

This made us remember the early days of Ruth's vegetarianism, when people would ask her if she still ate chicken and fish. No? Well, what about shrimp, they would ask. But the most common questions she got had to do with tofu. Was that all she ate? Dinner parties became fraught with concern; people didn't know what to cook for her or what she would serve them.

Fortunately, vegetarian cooking has come a long way from the days of mushy zucchini, brown rice, and tofu. With the right ingredients and cookbook, you can make meals that taste so good, people don't even notice they aren't eating meat.

Our favorite vegetarian cookbook, hands down, is Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian.
Bittman, who writes the Minimalist column for the New York Times food section, is not himself a vegetarian, and maybe that's why this is such a good book. He cares only about maximum flavor and ease of preparation.

As its title states, this book covers everything: appetizers, soup, main courses, pasta, sauces, desserts. And everything we've tried has been good. This recipe, for a simple chickpea pancake, has become a staple appetizer.

Happy Mothers, Happy Food, Happy Memories

Tim doesn't remember when his mother taught him how to cook. There probably was not one of those delineating moments, but more a lifetime attitude that food was more than merely the fuel of life. Good food was to be noted, and celebrated. But never taken for granted.

Ella was of that age — a depression era adolescent — when food was very difficult to come by. And that's why food was never to be taken for granted. But she was also defined by the 50s, when bland, canned convenient food made life much easier for mothers with many mouths to feed.

The family always thought it ate pretty tasty food, and there was always enough for the six growing stomachs and two adults around the table. Ella was known by her friends and by the friends of her children as a good cook.

She served what would now be called comfort food: mashed potatoes, meat (never the real expensive cuts), great-tasting sauces and veggies on the side. The veggies, with the exception of produce from the summer garden in the early years, were convenient canned or frozen vegetables, and that was where she realized her meal-prep efficiencies.

Then there were the desserts. They were worth the wait. Except for ice cream and the bags of mass-produced cookies that served to satisfy hoards of growing children, they were always homemade. Pies, cakes, cookies, upside down cake, crisps.

It must have been leftover from the farm culture. People visit and you expect them to stay because they've traveled a distance to see you. If the timing didn't permit a full meal, you always had some pie or whatever dessert was on hand. And there was always a dessert on hand. You asked whether the visitors might want to at least stay for "coffee." Coffee was shorthand. It meant coffee and a sweet of considerable substance. Sort of a farm ladies version of city tea. Except the men took their plates too.

When Tim went back to reconstruct Ella's recipe "book," he found that it wasn't a book at all but mostly a collection of sauce recipes clipped from magazines, soup can labels and ingredient boxes. Her really good recipes — the dishes she was known for, like her potato salad — were in her head.

Through all of the years of watching his mother cook, Tim picked up lots of pointers — and a mean recipe for goulash that got him through many years of college and bachelorhood. Her basics got him through years of cooking for himself and through his first culinary triumph, first place in the Midwest Chili Cookoff that was also one of his early collaborations with Ruth.

The greatest skill that Ella taught, however, had nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with cooking: self-reliance. Tim remembers her saying many times after hearing his whining about hunger, "Look in the refrigerator and the cupboards and you'll find some things to make a meal out of. Put enough of the right ones together and you'll have a tasty meal."

Words to live by. And words to memorialize one of our favorite cooks.