Leftover Makeover: Gingered Chicken and Carrot Soup

As I mentioned in my last post, the Chicken Marie-Louise yielded A LOT of leftovers. Even after we’d had a couple more chicken dinners, I still had bucket of sauce on my hands. I hate throwing food away if can help it, so I had to figure out a way to remake this sauce into something new. Soup seemed like the quickest and easiest solution. I flipped through some books and magazines for inspiration and came up with a plan -- drawing mostly from the Carrot—Ginger Soup recipe from Cook’s Illustrated Soups and Stews, 2009.

Transforming the leftovers from sauce to soup was ridiculously easy. Basically, I just put the remaining sauce with any bits of chicken in a pot with a little butter and added a couple of cups of chicken stock and ¾ cup of milk, reserving a little stock on the side. I spiked it with 2-3 tbsp grated ginger. (I admit I used the kind from the jar) I sprinkled in the tiniest bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, a drizzle of OJ, and salt and pepper to taste. I also had a lime that needed to get used, so I added the juice and a little zest to brighten the flavors.

I allowed everything to cook on the stove over medium heat for a bit, so that the flavors could blend together. I then used my hand blender to mix the soup directly in the pot until smooth and creamy. (You could certainly use a blender or food processor to achieve the same effect. Finally, I gradually added some of the reserved stock until I got a consistency I liked, and then just allowed it simmer for a little while longer.

The picture might look pretty plain, but flavors was anything but, and it made the perfect pairing for a simple soup and sandwich supper.

If you just want the soup, without going through the whole ordeal of making the original chicken dish, you can find a very similar recipe to the one I used for inspiration on Epicurious.

Poularde pour ma mère: Chicken Marie-Lousie

When I first flipped through Bistro: Swinging French Jazz, Favorite Parisian Bistro Recipes, I was really amused to find a section of recipes based on a bistro called Restaurant Marie-Louise. My mom’s name is Marie Louise -- well actually it’s Maria Luisa, but her parents used the French version of the name just as often as the Spanish. A bit Francophilia runs through the family, and it didn’t stop with my mom, or me for that matter, so when she last came to town for a visit, this seemed like the perfect thing to make for a welcome night dinner.

Under regular circumstances this would be great make-ahead dish that could be left set and ready before your guests arrive. That was exactly my plan, except, I ran into a few issues. I had a tight schedule that day in which to run errands, grocery shop, cook, and clean before picking her up at the airport in the evening. It seemed everything was under control and on schedule, right up until I arrived home with a carload of groceries only to discover that I’d left me keys in the apartment and locked myself out. Stressed by the shortage of time and the prospect of spoiling food, I frantically called Greg repeatedly to figure out how to get a key or find out when he’d been home. I found out later that the reason I couldn’t get a hold of him was because he happened to be giving a presentation at work right then. The vibrating phone in his pocket was just a little bit distracting. Oops. When he finally got home and let me in, I was way behind schedule. I did get dinner on the table that night to welcome my mom to town, but it may have been just a little late.

Here’s the recipe:

Poularde Marie-Louise

1 tsp butter
1 tbsp oil
1 free range roasting chicken, cut into pieces, or chicken breasts
1 onion, chopped
2 lbs/1kg carrots , peeled and sliced
2 lbs/1kg tomatoes, quartered
1 fresh tarragon sprig
2 cups dry white wine
1 tablespoon tomato paste
¾ cup (6oz/185 g) crème fraiche
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a large sauté pan or skillet over medium heat, melt the butter with the oil and sauté the chicken and onion until the chicken is golden brown, about 5 min on each side.

Transfer the chicken to a large, heavy pot. Add the carrots, tomatoes, tarragon, wine, and water to cover the chicken. Bring the water to a boil and skim off any foam that rises to the surface. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 30 min.

Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken pieces to a platter and cover loosely with aluminum foil to keep warm.

Transfer the cooking liquid and vegetables to a blender or food processor and purée. Return the sauce to the pot and stir in the tomato paste and crème fraiche. Add the chicken and simmer for 5 minutes.

Arrange a piece of chicken on each of 6 plates, spoon the sauce over and serve.

makes 6 servings

Since I was running so late, I didn’t really change much other than to add a little extra tomato paste for a smoother, more rounded-out flavor. Other than that, I just have a couple of recommendations -- mainly, give yourself a little more time than you think you’ll need. You’ll probably have to brown the chicken pieces in batches, so allot extra time for 2 to 3 batches – you don’t want crowd the pieces in the pan just to get it all done in one round.

Similarly, allow extra time for the sauce to cool before running it though the blender or food processor. In my rush to get dinner out on the table, I just transferred the hot sauce to the blender. It splashed out and splattered on me and created a hot mess. My clumsiness might have been a contributing factor here as well, but if it had been cold, I wouldn’t have gotten burned. Plus, this recipe makes A LOT of sauce, so you’ll probably have to do this batches as well. Next time, I’d also blend it all a little more for a smoother texture.

I served it all over rice to soak up the sauce. Despite all my issues in getting it prepared, the resulting dish was elegant and had complex flavors without being all that heavy.

It also makes a ton of leftovers, and while I didn’t play all that much with the actual recipe, I did have some fun remaking the leftovers . . .but that’s for my next post.

Back with Latin Flare: Sirloin Steak with Colombian Coffee Sauce

I've been gone for a long time. In the last year, G and I have done an overwhelmingly wonderful amount of traveling. G got the chance to study abroad through his business program and we took it. We packed up and headed to Australia for a few months, and admittedly, I put Cooking Off Book on the back burner in favor of writing about my travels on my other blog, Oh, Nothing Much. (And to be honest, I'm still in the middle of catching that one up as well!)

Before we headed Down Under though, our travels began last Memorial Day Weekend with a visit to my parents in Medellin, Colombia. It's a beautiful city, (you can read more about it on ONM ) and we had an amazing time. As with anything that constitutes an amazing time in my book, there was a lot of fantastic food consumed.

We had two particularly fabulous meals on that trip, one more on the high-end side of things, and one at a very humble roadside restaurant. My parents spent the long weekend shuttling us all around the region, and in the midst of jetting through the countryside, hunger set in. Rodrigo, the hotel's driver, pulled over at little joint that was anything but fancy. It's the type of place that has no walls, and the grills and stove are right there for you to see.

It is also graced with one of the most spectacular views a restaurant could possibly hope for.

Said view overlooks a lake, and that lake is filled with trout. Thus, a trout from this lake was fished out, fried up, and became my lunch. It may have been the best trout I've ever had.

My dad had a chicken stew and G had steak, all of which looked amazing. All of this was accompanied by cold beers – HEAVEN. Sadly, I can't tell you what this place was called or exactly where to find it.

Thankfully, I can definitely tell you where to get the fine dining experience – at La Cava Wine Bar at the Inter-Continental Medellin. (Full disclosure, this is the hotel my dad manages.)

Considering that it's a wine bar, our meal began with the wine – and here they make a show out of serving the wine. Our favorite waiter, Rodrigo (no, the driver isn't also a waiter. Same name, different person) brought out our wine selection and theatrically poured the vino through different aerators.

The salad course was also a show. Rodrigo rolled out a cart and custom prepared our salad in a table side service.

Not all that long before this visit, they started offering a tasting menu at La Cava. Here the chefs get to experiment and try new things. Not every “creation” – as the courses are called on the menu – was perfect, but everything was certainly very tasty and creativity ran throughout. My favorite course was a tuna dish in curry sauce. In total you get to choose four “creations,” all for about $25 US. Pretty amazing and a beautiful evening.

Medellin is very meat-centric, so every trip we eat lots of beef. To be even more specific, G eats it at as many meals as possible during the course of a trip. The thing is that the meat tastes far, far superior to the meat we eat here. Steaks aren't organic or anything, but the cows are for the most part grass-fed just because that's how it has always been done, and when you see them roaming on the hillsides they look very different than ours. They're smaller for sure, but they also look healthier than the giant galumphing elephants that the cows here have been engineered to be. You can really taste the difference.

Now, yes, I have definitely been using this post to reminisce over the food memories of this particular trip, however, that is because it also served as inspiration for G's birthday dinner last year. (And lets face it, that means that this post is only about 10 months in coming, give or take. . . so might as well be a little indulgent at this point.) With all of these happy memories floating about, I thought I'd try to infuse them into the celebration. I consulted my recently acquired copy of The Inter-Continental Kitchen (thanks parents) and found this recipe. I have to admit that, Sirloin Steak in Coffee Sauce seemed quite appropriate, so on to the cooking.


The Steaks

I had been practicing my steak skills in the months prior to this – honestly, I still am. Saveur did a Steak Issue a couple of years ago, and I'd been working on modifying their “Steak House-Style Porterhouse” recipe for my uses. It seems pretty simple in description, but getting it right takes practice – or at least it took me a few tries.

Here's basically what ya do, according to Saveur:

Rub the steaks with salt and pepper and a little canola oil. Then you get your cast iron skillet REALLY hot by heating it in the oven. When it's scalding, transfer the skillet to the stovetop and place in the steaks. Allow the first side to cook until a charred crust forms. They say 7-8 minutes. Then flip to the second side for 2-3 minutes. According their recipe, the steaks are then transferred into the oven for another 7-8 to cook until “medium-rare.” Then melt butter over top, allow the steaks to rest for 5-10 minutes, and enjoy.

This is according to their recipe. However, your steaks will only be medium-rare if you're working with really big steaks. (About 3 lbs.) If you're using steaks that are already portioned to a half-way normal size, you'll end up with deliciously buttered charcoal pucks – which is what we got the first time I tried this. Well done was an understatement. The good news is that the process is even easier. I basically just started skipping the oven step and began getting good results. For smaller steaks, just cooking them in the scalding cast iron pan seems to be more than enough. This was the process I used in preparing the steaks for this dinner. In honor of the delicious meat we always eat in Colombia, I made sure to get really good quality steaks – usually, I'll splurge for grass-fed from Whole Foods or consult our local butcher when I make this.

One more word of warning. This will create A LOT of smoke. Open all of your windows and still expect your smoke detectors to beep like crazy. I wouldn't suggest anyone else try anything risky, but we've taken to disconnecting ours whenever we're preparing steak. (ssshhhh!)

The Sauce

The sauce is pretty simple. Here's what you'll need:

• Butter
• ¼ cup packed brown sugar
• ½ cup dark rum
• 1 cup beef broth
• 1 cup brewed espresso or coffee
• ½ cup coffee liquer

In the pan the steaks cooked in, add the brown sugar and cook over medium heat until caramelized. Add the rum until it evaporates slightly and then add the beef broth. Bring to a boil and reduce by half. Add the coffee liqueur; continue to simmer until the sauces reduces and thickens slightly.

At the point, the sauce was delicious, but kind of grainy with coffee particles and char from the pan. Not all that pretty. This was easily resolved by running the sauce through a strainer. Now the sauce was delicious and elegant. Pour the sauce over your steaks and serve with green beans or greens and enjoy.

Altogether, a very simple, but decadent meal fit for a celebratory feast.

(For more pictures of our trip, including tons of food shots, check out G's photo album on flickr.)

Bienvenue Chez N&G! Au menu de ce soir, nous avons Coq au Vin.

Nous sommes tres hueruex que vous êtes ici!

When I started out to write this blog, one of my goals was to teach myself some of the classics, so it’s about time I got to that. A few weeks ago G and I had a couple we adore, but don’t get to see often enough, over for dinner. They are also a couple of foodies with refined tastes, so I thought it was the perfect chance to try a dish I’d been meaning to attempt for a very long time – Coq au Vin.

I took this particular recipe from a completely delightful cookbook I picked up at the LA Times Festival of Books at UCLA, called Bistro: Swinging French Jazz, Favorite Parisian Bistro Recipes,. It’s from a series called Shannon O’Connor's Menus and Music. Each book centers on a theme and comes with a CD of music that pairs with the theme. Thus, while I was cooked away in the kitchen I got into the spirit of the dish with sounds of Edith Piaf and the like. All of the recipes are taken from various famed French bistros. To further help put you in the proper mood, a history of each location is included in the book, along with descriptions of the neighborhoods they inhabit. Should all of this so inspire you that you can’t help but jet off to Paris, the book includes the addresses and nearest metro station to each bistro to help you track down the original dishes. The recipe for Coq au Vin hails from Chez Allard in the Latin Quarter of Paris, and I was very excited to try it, especially because trying this recipe meant I’d get to flambé!

Here is their recipe:

One 5-pound chicken, cut into pieces
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons rendered chicken fat, or 1 tablespoon butter, or 1 tablespoon olive oil
(We didn’t have chicken fat, but we did have extra pork fat. G saves extra bits he shaves off of meats whenever he cooks and stores them in the freezer. I used a little of that and a little butter.)
7 ounces bacon, cut crosswise into ¼ inch pieces (mmmmm . . . bacon)
3 onions, chopped
3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 pound mushrooms, quartered
(In addition to regular button mushrooms, we happened to have a bag of dried chanterelles. G reconstituted some for me and we added those for extra depth of flavor.)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 cup (8 oz) Cognac or brandy (I used Cognac)
8 cups dry red wine, such as Burgundy, Pinot Noir, or Zinfandel
Bouquet garni: 1 parsley sprig, 1 thyme sprig, and one bay leaf tied in a cheesecloth square
2 tablespoons butter at room temperature
3 tablespoons flour

Generously sprinkle the chicken pieces with salt and pepper. In a large sauté pan or skillet over medium heat, melt the chicken fat, or melt the butter with the olive oil, and brown the chicken pieces, in batches if necessary, well all over, 12 to 16 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a large heavy casserole with a lid or a Dutch oven.

In the same sauté pan or skillet, fry the bacon over medium heat until the fat is rendered and the bacon is golden brown, about 5 minutes.

Sprinkle the bacon pieces over the chicken. Sauté the onions and garlic in the bacon fat for 5 minutes, or until golden. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the onion mixture to the chicken to the chicken. Add mushrooms to the same pan, season with salt, and sauté for 5 minutes, or until the mushroom liquid evaporates.

Using a slotted spoon, transfer the mushrooms to plate and set aside. Stir in the tomato paste and Cognac or brandy into the pan with the chicken, heat, and carefully ignite with a long-handled match. When the flame subsides, pour in the red wine. Add the bouquet garni and salt and pepper to taste. Cover and cook over low heat for 45 minutes, or until chicken is tender when pierced with a fork. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken to a large plate; cover with aluminum foil to keep warm.

Bring the sauce to a boil over high heat and cook to reduce by half. In a small bowl, mash the butter with the flour to make a paste and whisk into the sauce until smooth and thickened. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add the chicken and the mushrooms and simmer for 5 minutes to heat through. Serve now, or cover and refrigerate for 1 to 2 days. Reheat covered, in a low oven.

Makes 6 servings

Two comments off the bat:

1. I have this cooking experience to thank for a newfound appreciation for Cognac.

&

2. Give yourself time for this one. It’s meant to be slow cooking. Traditionally, this dish was prepared with an old rooster, or coq. The long, slow cooking in wine was meant to break down and tenderize the tough old bird. The book suggests that it can be prepared a day or two in advance. I’d say it definitely should be if at all possible. It really will taste a lot better, coq or no coq. Our friends Danielle and Jason came to dinner on Wednesday. I started after work on Monday night and I benefited from the extra time in many ways.

I’ll admit this recipe has a lot of steps. It could be easy to get overwhelmed, but just take it one step at a time and it’s really not so difficult. However, that initial step of browning all of that chicken will take you a while. There is no “if necessary” as they say in first paragraph. It will be necessary. I have the biggest cast iron skillet imaginable. Seriously, it’s huge. We don’t bother moving it because it’s just that heavy – it just lives on our stovetop. It looks like it would make a good weapon, but swing that thing around is more likely to take you down before you ever have a chance to get close to any aggressor. Anyhow, the point is that even using a really large skillet, it took me a few batches. I kind of underestimated how long that would take, but you don’t want to overcrowd the pan because then the chicken won’t brown as well, so it’s better to take your time.

From there it’s pretty easy going for a while – just sautéing vegetables and layering them onto the chicken.

Once the veg is all cooked and the mushrooms are set aside, it’s time for the fun. Pour on the Cognac and then . . . Fire! I didn’t have a long match, but my stove lighter wand worked beautifully.

Be careful of course, stand back, wave the flame over the alcohol soaked chicken and it will catch pretty quickly. Then just enjoy your own private fire show. Pyros that we are, G and I watched transfixed for quite a while. Fun!

When the fire died down, we added the wine and spices. I didn’t have cheesecloth for the bouquet garni, so I did a quick search online and found that a coffee filter is a good substitute. I put the herbs in that, tied it with cooking string, and put it in the pot with the chicken and wine to simmer for a while.

It was now near midnight, and as is seemed like a logical stopping point, I put the lid on it and stuck it in the fridge to continue on tomorrow. I tasted it before putting it away and the sauce had a beautiful flavor. However, it seemed like there was less sauce in there than I would have expected, as it was not completely covering the chicken. Oh well, off to bed.

The next morning I realized that apparently I can’t read. I went back to look at the recipe with thoughts of moving to the next step. What caught my eye was the wine quantity. “8 cups dry red wine.” I had read 8 oz. I had added one cup from the bottle of Zinfandel I’d purchased, and well, the rest of that bottle was long gone. Oops.

I was going out with some friends that night, but I managed to make to sneak in a trip to TJ’s to purchase a couple more bottles of the same zin I had been using – I was trying to maintain consistency. When I got home late that night, I realized that not only could I not read, I didn’t know how to do basic math either. I poured in all of the wine I purchased, counting out each cup, and realized that I was still short a bottle. Luckily, we had more wine lying around, just not of the same kind. Oh, well. So much for consistency. *sigh*

All the wine goes into the pot. Wow. 8 cups is actually a lot of wine. It’s like 3 ½ bottles. I added the remaining ingredients and once again let it simmer for a little bit. But when I went to taste the sauce this time, it tasted completely off. The deliciously sweet, smooth sauce I had tried the previous night was totally gone. It was a little sour and unbalanced somehow. It was after midnight and I was tired. All I can think to do is to add a couple of tablespoons of sugar and hope that the flavors just needed time to blend. I put it away and hoped for the best.

The next evening arrived and our friends brought over some amazing cheeses to have as a first course. We have some wine and feast on these for a bit while the chicken is being reheated in the oven. At this point, I’m still hoping all will turn out well. Once it had simmered for a bit, I served the coq au vin with a simple green salad and side of rice flavored with a little garlic and onion. Luckily, I was right. By this point the flavors had mellowed and melded and now had a lovely, savory complexity. *Phew!*

I think the lesson here is the virtue of patience. Once again, the old adage that ‘it will taste better tomorrow’ holds true. It was actually pretty delicious and very tender. Umami galore! However, I have to say, I think I may still tweak the ratio of Cognac to wine a little further. I really loved the extra sweetness from the Cognac before I added the rest of the wine. I also think one could easily get away with less wine. I have since looked at other recipes that use far less wine. Julia Child’s version doesn’t use nearly this much. I ladled heaps of it on to each serving and I still have a large Tupperware’s worth of sauce leftover for future use, which is always nice. However, at the end of the day, the main purpose of using that much wine was to break down and tenderize the tough rooster meat and that probably isn’t as much of a concern for the modern home cook. Finally, this is a dish that seems like it could be easily adapted for the a slow cooker. I foresee future experiments in the works.

But for now . . .

Bon soir! J'espère vous revoir bientôt!

Arepa Pie: A Meal for Veggies and Meat lovers

Earlier this month, I invited the PA’s and Interns who helped us in the production office during the recent film shoot I worked on over for a gathering. They helped keep us sane during production, and they deserved a big thank you, so I made them dinner.

I had two constraints. First, I had plans earlier that day, so I didn’t have a huge amount of time to make food to feed a group. And second, I needed to make something that would translate easily into a vegetarian version. G came up with the idea that I should make a casserole of some kind. I thought of an issue of Saveur from a while back that celebrated casseroles. Among them was a Tamale Pie I made once and I recalled that it had turned out well. It struck me that it would be easy to make a veggie version along side the meat version by substituting in vegetarian taco crumbles.

Now, in addition to making a veggie version, I planned on one other big change. I don’t typically have yellow cornmeal around, but my mom regularly sends me packages of Harina PAN -- a kind of white corn meal that Venezuelans and Colombians use to make arepas. (It can be found in a lot of Hispanic food markets, but it’s harder to come by on the West Coast). For the unfamiliar, an arepa is cornmeal patty that is grilled, fried, or baked and eaten like bread at pretty much any meal of the day. I have not been making arepas with enough frequency to keep up with the shipments of Harina PAN, so I had this in abundance. Why not use that? I made that substitution the first time and it had come out well.

In some ways, using the Harina PAN actually made things easier because it requires no additional cooking. To make the dough – or masa-- all you have to do is add 1 ¼ cup of water per 1 cup of flour and a little salt. You let it sit for a few minutes and then knead the dough until blended. I started with 2 ¼ cups to match the recipe; however, I then made another batch to make sure there was enough for the veggie version. I spread out a layers of masa into two greased baking dishes – one lasagna dish and one that was ½ the size. I put the rest of the masa to the side to be used later for the top layers.

I made the filling pretty much as indicated by the instructions. However, since I wanted to make regular version and an additional veggie version, I had to find a way to streamline the process a bit. I accomplished this by cooking all of the veggies together. But I didn’t want to loose the bacon flavor from the drippings, so l made bacon in a pan in the oven at 350° for about 15 minutes in order to keep the drippings temporarily separate. I cooked up 1 and ½ the called for quantities of veggies.

When the vegetables were cooked, I separated 1/3 of the amount into a separate cast iron skillet. To the larger batch I added the ground beef. At this point I added the bacon drippings, along with the bacon bits – what’s the point of cooking bacon and then not using it?

To the smaller batch I added one package (I think it was 12 oz) of vegetarian crumbles. I cooked each batch simultaneously, stirring occasionally.

Time to spice. Of course I added more garlic than called for, I also sprinkled in a little garlic powder, onion powder, and smoked paprika to each. I also added in some chipotle sauce. (When you purchase chipotle peppers in a can, they come packed in a thick sauce. I never throw this away. I freeze any leftovers as this makes a great flavoring. Just a little goes a long way). I have to say, each pan of filling was delicious! Either would be a great filling for any number of things.

Meat

Veggie

When both pans of filling were ready, I transferred the beef filling into the larger baking dish with the masa, and the vegetarian batch into the smaller baking dish. I then carefully spread out the remaining masa on top of each baking dish to cover the filling.

And now, to oven!

I left them into the oven a longer than suggested as I was trying to get the top to crisp up. However, here is where I think the Harina PAN masa differs from the yellow tamale cornmeal; I don’t think it crisps up quite the same way in the oven. Because I left it a little longer than I should have, the texture got a little bit chewy. Had I left it a little less time, I think the texture would have been softer, but a little more pleasant. The other tweaks I’d make in the future, would be to alter the ratio of filling to masa; I’d make the arepa/tamale layers a little thinner and make a little more ground beef mixture.

Nonetheless, it was pretty tasty. I served sour cream, cheese, and hot sauces on the side for everyone to add to their taste. It could be easily be a adapted for many types of crowds. I think it be great for a family – toning down the spicy factor of course. I’m pretty sure I will return to this one in the future, and will definitely report back on further attempts.

Falafel Fiasco

June’s Supper Club theme was Greek food. I made Falafel and it was pretty much a comedy of errors.

To be perfectly honest, the recipe itself is actually pretty easy. I picked this one for exactly that reason. I got the recipe from Joy of Cooking. Yup, the Joy of Cooking has falafel and a surprising number of other Middle-eastern recipes, as well as a good number of ethnic cuisines. Now, I actually have a Lebanese cookbook (my mom is half Lebanese) that includes another fairly easy falafel recipe, but it’s in Spanish, and quite frankly, I didn’t feel like translating. Earlier in the day, I tackled a trapeze class along with some of the other Supper Clubbers. As I’m afraid of heights, that left me completely mentally exhausted, a little drained, and pressed for time. That good ‘ol standby, TJOC was there to help.

Their recipe is as follows:

1 ¼ c dried chickpeas, soaked and drained
(I used the soaking method of pouring enough boiling water over the chickpeas to cover by 2 inches. I allowed the chickpeas to stand for over an hour to let the water soak in and for the chickpeas to swell. I then drained them well.)

½ c chopped onions
¼ cup packed fresh parsley leaves
2 glove garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons ground cumin
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon coriander seeds, rushed, or ½ teaspoon ground coriander
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon ground red pepper

Process until the mixture is coarsely pureed. Remove to bowl and stir in:
2 tablespoons all purpose flour

With wet hands, form chickpea mixture into 4 patties, each about 3 inches in diameter. Let stand for 15 minutes. Pour ½ inch of oil into a deep skillet and fry chickpea patties until golden brown on both sides, about 4 minutes on each side. Drain on paper towels. They claim this makes 4 servings.

Since we were going to be a group of 10, I doubled the recipe. This wasn’t much harder, it just required running the ingredients through the processor in batches. What I soon realized, however, is that if that 1 recipe was supposed to make 4 servings, they would be 4 very large servings. The resulting falafel would have been behemoths. I prefer smaller, more manageable patties and I’d say I got a little over two dozen from the doubled recipe.

As you can see, it’s a pretty easy recipe. Basically, all that is involved in this recipe is throwing all of the ingredients into a food processor. From there, you just form the dough into patties and fry. That’s about it. However, as you probably know by now, I’m pretty liberal when it comes to spicing and usually it serves me well. This time, however, it got me into trouble.

After, draining the chickpeas and running them through the food processor with the other ingredients, I began adding salt and spices. Somehow I over salted. I may have sprinkled too much in. As well, amongst the seasonings I used, I grabbed the beloved Cavender's Greek Seasoning and sprinkled some in. Of course, there is salt in the mix and this probably contributed to sending it over the edge. To offset the salt, I figured I’d add more chickpeas and a little of everything else. I had some from the dried batch that had been soaked and drained leftover. I added those but they weren’t enough to balance the flavors. I didn’t have time to soak more, so I added a can I had on hand. I didn’t read the ingredients list --- salt is definitely in there. * Sigh * From now on I will be more vigilant of salt and other additives. Lesson learned.

Even so, while the dough was still salty, it was definitely better. To make sure I wouldn’t be serving my friends saltlicks disguised as falafel balls, I decided to fry up some test subjects in my mini deep fryer. The basket for this deep fryer hinges on a pivot, but can be locked into place. I failed to this before heating up the oil and at some point between juggling forming patties and switching batches, I knocked the handle of the deep fryer basket into the boiling oil. The handle is covered in plastic.


In a moment of panic, I grabbed the nearest knife and thrust it into the oil to help fish out the handle. GAH!!!! NO!!! BAD MOVE! The knife just happened to be one of my very expensive Henkles. It came out covered in oozing plastic. Not only have I potentially ruined the deep fryer, now I’ve possibly killed one of my best knives as well!

Luckily, I was able to quickly scrape off the nasty, black plastic with a pot scraper. I also managed to rescue the deep fryer. The melted plastic that was still in the oil turned out to be pretty easy to scoop out and I was able to remove most of the remaining ooze from the handle as well. At that point I decided I’d done enough deep-frying for that afternoon.

The good news is that prior to meltdown, I managed get in a couple of batches of mini-falafel that G deemed to be slightly salty, but edible. The cooking process had ameliorated some of saltiness. Good enough.

I took the rest of the dough to Supper Club, along with my Dutch oven and a bottle of cooking oil to fry up the rest of the falafel there. These things taste better fresh anyways. I heated up the oil in the Dutch oven until bubbling and plopped in the patties. They came out ok. It turns out that there was a marked difference in the texture when fried in the Dutch oven vs. the deep fryer. It could be that I had not allowed the oil to heat enough, or perhaps it was the oils I used – canola in the Dutch oven and peanut at home – but whatever the reason, the texture was definitely far superior in the deep fryer. Still they were fine and we served them with hummus I had made and pita bread. However, melting handles aside, if you have a deep fryer, I recommend you use it.

Given all the stumbling blocks with the first attempt, I was very anxious to give these guys another try. The following Friday, our friends Max and Nicole came to stay with us for the weekend. I made the falafel again with G’s help this time. We served them with platters of pita, hummus, feta, tomatoes, and cucumber slices, so that everyone could build their own sandwich. This time everything went smoothly. This time there was no over-salting and no meltdowns. We fried them in the deep fryer and they came out delicious and crispy.

On the other hand, I slightly burned the pita bread . . . um, well, nobody’s perfect . . .

Lazy Weekend Morning Breakfast Sandwiches

There is no real recipe involved here, per se. This is more just an excuse to post G’s mouth watering pics of one weekend morning’s riff on the delicious breakfast sandwiches we love to get at our favorite brunch joints.

Simply cook up a few slices of bacon and scramble up some eggs. Make sure to season the eggs with salt and some of your favorite spices. Egg scrambling is usually G’s department and his spice mix of choice for all things egg is Cavender's All Purpose Greek Seasoning . Melt the cheese of your choice onto an onion roll. (A bagel would also be great.) Here we used a little goat cheese and baked it lightly onto the roll in the toaster oven. Then just pile the scrambled eggs onto your cheese roll along with the bacon and tomatoes slices. Some condiments are also usually in order to keep the whole thing from being too dry. I like a little mustard or Wasabi Mayo from Trader Joe’s.

For my sandwich, I made a slightly less caloric version by using high-fiber bread in place of the roll. (I will also often use and English muffin.) I used a little less bacon on mine and I added spinach for an extra veggie boost. Of course, you could also swap in egg whites for whole eggs.

In just a few minutes you have a restaurant worthy brunch that you can eat in your PJ’s, and it requires little more effort that toasting bread and scrambling some eggs.

Old Fashioned Sunday Night Supper: Stuffed Pork Chops with Apple & Sweet Potato Casserole

One Sunday night not too long ago, I decided to make a nice, old fashioned Sunday night supper. I had been working hard on a film and G was in the middle of studying hard for finals. Comfort food seemed in order.

The day before, I had paid my first visit to our neighborhood butcher. How many people actually have a neighborhood butcher these days? It seemed high time that I started taking advantage, so I took a walk down to Victor's Meats & Delicatessen to see what they had to offer. (Check out my friend Sarah Beth's review on Yelp) Amongst the many appetizing meats in the display case were some delicious looking pork chops with apple stuffing. The butcher suggested that the best way to prepare these would be to simple put them in a casserole dish with a little apple juice and put them in a 350° oven for one hour. I took two and made my way home.

The next day I plotted how to turn my pork chops into a supper. I had a vague notion that sweet potatoes would pair well. Some muse lead me to consult The Casseroles Cookbook from Southern Living– and old cookbook from 1971 that I stole from my mom at some point. (I love old cookbooks!) A search of sweet potatoes in the index lead me to this recipe:

Apple & Sweet Potato Casserole

1 2lb can sweet potatoes
2 c. sliced peeled apples
¾ cups maple-blended syrup
¼ cup melted butter
1 tsp salt

Drain the Sweet Potatoes and slice lengthwise. Place in a greased 12x8x2 –inch baking dish. Place apple slices on potatoes. Combine the syrup, butter and salt and pour over apples. Cover Bake in 350-degree oven for 45 minutes. Remove cover and bake for about 30 minutes longer or until apples are tender, basting frequently and adding syrup, if needed.

Making this recipe jive with my pork chops was going to be a cinch, but the recipe definitely needed some updates.

The first thing go were the canned sweet potatoes. I used 2 medium sized fresh sweet potatoes instead. Next, ¾ cup maple-blended syrup seemed like it be cloyingly sweet, so I used about ½ the quantity and used real maple syrup. Taking the butcher’s recommendation, I swapped in apple juice for the remaining liquid quantity. I used the unfiltered kind they sell at TJ’s, as it has a thicker consistency and better flavor than the regular supermarket varieties. I also used a little less butter than called for. Finally, I didn’t peel a thing. I just left the skins on everything, just gave it all a good scrubbing. That’s where all the fiber is anyways.

I piled everything into the pot as directed and then nestled in the pork chops, and then popped it all into the oven.

I pretty much followed all the cooking instructions as given, but I pulled out the pork chops at the hour mark. I put the pot with the apples and sweet potatoes back in to finish cooking while the pork chops rested.


The pork chops were plump and juicy and the apples and sweet potatoes had just the right amount of sweetness! I served the chops and the casserole on a bed of greens I had sautéed with a little garlic, olive oil and mustard, as I thought the bitterness from the green would contrast nicely with the sweetness of the casserole. It was just the right combo

Now, you’re probably thinking, but what if I don’t have a neighborhood butcher? I have often seen similarly prepped items in the deli section of the grocery store. Alternatively I think this would be really delicious with a regular, un-stuffed pork chop as well, but I would get them still on the bone. The result is a deliciously retro one-pot meal.

(For some reason the chops look a little pink in this picture, but it was actually fully cooked)