Artichokes, Baby

Our honeymoon was the most organized I have ever been. I read guidebooks, picked people's brains, even read classics set in Italy to decide where to visit. From afar, I booked hotels and restaurants.

Once there, the day's sightseeing was plotted based on where our eating was occurring. In Amalfi, we hung out at the hotel on the water all day, sightseeing in the early evening, when the heat of the day was easing and -- did you guess? -- we traveled into town or nearby villages for dinner.

We had a lot of fabulous meals, though perhaps predictably the most memorable were the unscripted. A late supper on arrival in Umbria, so steeped in truffles -- neither of us had had them in that magnitude before -- that we looked at each other wondering what that delicious aura was. For the rest of our time in the region we hunted foods containing them -- truffle oil, truffle cheese, even truffle gelato -- like junkies. The picnic we bought on the way back from Pompeii, at a little store on the side of a mountain so steep one of stayed in the car with his foot on the pedal while the other dashed in and bought fresh red tomatoes, mozzarella and wine in jars, vintage yesterday, to eat on the balcony of our cottage overlooking the Mediterranean. Our last night in Rome, when we left a mediocre restaurant after the appetizers and wandered the cobblestone streets from wine bar to wine bar, ending up at a pizzaria with the locals with my high heels kicked off under the table, so far from our intended path I could probably not find it again.

We slept in, drank wine with lunch and had coffee late in the day. We ate fried foods willy-nilly. I even ate bread and pasta, without worry or even retribution.

One lunch we stopped in the shadow of the coliseum, in an ordinary-looking restaurant, Da Giggetto, in the Jewish ghetto near the ruins of the palace built by Augustus for his sister, Ottavia. It was unassuming enough, but the carciofi alla giudia --   literally artichokes smushed by a brick and deep-fried, were like bits of heaven. The earthy artichokes, in a light batter, fried in oil so hot it didn't even get to the artichoke. Zucchini blossoms, stuffed with ricotta and garlic and fried. Squid, fresh from the sea, with a batter so light it might have been tempura. We polished off everything on our plates, licking grease from our fingers and washing it down with fruity white wine.

I've never forgotten that meal. One summer, with visions of this lunch in my head, I grew zucchini just to stuff the blossoms. But I've never attempted the artichokes, though I've been hankering for them these ten years. After all, but the one time, my husband not only will not taste them but visibly recoils in their presence. Then I saw baby artichokes in the grocery store, shopping for a small dinner with a friend who also loves artichokes.  Dare I?

I did. I didn't smush them (no clean bricks), and I didn't deep fry them (not enough oil), but I did saute them in an inch of good olive oil, and finished with pressed garlic, mint, parsley and a pinch of coarse salt.

And we ate them all up.

Ghetto Artichokes

1 flat of baby artichokes, 3 lbs.
1/2 cup olive oil
2 Tablespoons minced parsley
2 Tablespoons minced mint
3 cloves garlic, minced

Peel off the tough outer leaves of each artichoke, until you get to the tender greenish yellow leaves inside, and cut about 1/2 inch from the top. Half the artichokes. They will brown if you do not put them in a bowl with water into which you have squeezed lemon juice, but it doesn't matter in the end -- I wasn't particular about it.

Mince herbs and garlic, set aside. Heat oil in medium skillet over medium heat and melt 1 teaspoon coarse salt. Add artichokes and saute, turning once to brown on both sides.

Remove from oil with slotted spatula to a bowl. Toss with herbs and garlic, a little lemon zest would rock too. Serve warm with drinks and olives. Would be divine with roast red peppers as well.

Enjoy!

Rice Krispy Fun

It all started because one of the boys in my son's class can't eat eggs. I don't know what happens to him, but as one who avoids a major food group, I knew it couldn't be fun to be vigilant at every unsuspecting snack time.

I first tried substituting apple sauce for the eggs, but the cake was more a muffin, though delicious with cream cheese icing.

Then I remembered the humble rice krispy treat. So versatile!

I bought several boxes of cereal (one large box makes two batches), along with bags of marshmallows, and prepared to bake. Then the snow came, postponing the party and bringing some opportune friends instead for a little impromptu celebration. I cracked open the boxes and made some monster treats.

The next weekend, when the sun shone, the party was on. Starting Friday, I made 7 more batches of rice krispy treats, and left them to harden slightly in the pan. We cut them into bricks and assembled, using marshmallow fluff as the mortar, marshmallows for the turrets, fruit leather cut into flags for the decor. Small knights fought on the ramparts. Swedish fish swam in a blue icing moat, around gumdrop stepping stones.

When the time came for cake, the kids crowded around as I broke bits off and put them on plates. It was gone in a jiffy, and not one kid had to worry whether they could eat it. Seconds were had, even thirds, by big and small alike.

Rice Crispy Treats

6 cups rice crispies
1 bag of marshmallows
3 T butter
1 teaspoon vanilla

Melt butter in a pan on the stove and add the marshmallows, stirring until they are all melted. Pour over rice crispies in a large bowl and add vanilla. Stir to combine.

Pat out in lasagna pans and let harden. Cut with knife.

For the monsters, make one batch. Decorate with icing and M&Ms.

For the cake, make 7 or 8 batches. Decorate with icing, marshmallows, gumdrpos and fruit leathers.

Enjoy.

Kitchen Reform tip 18/College cooking 101: Crack Protein

I haven't done anything to reform my kitchen all summer. After all, who needs it, just open the windows and let in the sunshine and fresh air -- grill a simple steak, serve up some local produce.

But now we're back in the swing, days end earlier, littles must be in bed sooner. And that means dinner on the table, before pronto. Here's a little trick: eggs. (Also great -- see below for effects on memory and learning -- for cash-strapped college students, who I hope are reading this blog!)

Eggs from the happy chickens at Hummingbird Hill are divine, but studies show even experts can't tell the difference in taste between free range and store bought eggs.

There's many ways to cook an egg. My favorite: over easy, yolks so runny they will sauce whatever else is on your plate (salmon hash, if you have a can of good wild salmon). But they are versatile for the whole family -- my 6-year-old will always eat a cheesy omelet, which does double duty by using up the leftover cheese ends too small to be useful for anything else in the cheese drawer.

Protein contains amino acids, the essential building blocks of the body. And get this: we lose protein every day when we shed skin, hair and nails. So re-upping our supply is crucial, especially if active. Animal proteins -- lean poultry, meat and fish, and low-fat dairy -- contain a complete array of amino acids, but those more inclined to a plant-based diet needn't worry. Plants too contain amino acids, though not the entire spectrum, making them suppliers of incomplete protein.

There's much to be said for protein, especially in highly bioavailable forms like protein powders and shakes, which go directly to the muscle rather than being digested and disseminated via the stomach. A recent study from Brescia University in Milan showed that protein powders containing three amino acids that we are unable to make on our own -- in particular leucine, which is the only amino acid capable of synthesizing protein in muscle -- can lengthen lifespan by up to 12% by activating the mitochondria in cells, which then slow the aging process. That's ten years for the average adult.

And egg yolks also contain choline, essential for regulating metabolic pathways and maintaining cell membranes that allow cells to get rid of toxins, as well as development of cells in the hippocampus crucial for mental acuity and development. Pregnant women, in particular, can benefit from increased choline as it can aid in developing these brain functions in the fetus and, according to research published in the journal Brain Research, can have aftereffects on brain development leaving an afterglow that helps resist age-related memory decline.

So go ahead, eat your eggs.

Easy Anytime Crepes

 1 cup milk

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour

2 tablespoons sugar

2 extra large eggs

4 tablespoons butter

Melt 2 Tablespoons of butter and cool. Put milk, flour, eggs, sugar and pinch of salt in blender and whiz together. Add butter and blend.

In an 8-inch nonstick skillet, melt 1 teaspoon butter. Pour a thin layer of batter into skillet and swirl to coat the bottom. Cook over medium heat until little air bubbles appear then turn over and cook 30 seconds more. 

Remove crepe from skillet and hold on a warm plate with a dish towel to cover, or in the oven. Serve filled with anything -- we like brown sugar, or thick preserves.

Enjoy!

College Cooking 101: Salmon Appetizers

Going to a party? Of course you are. Turn up a notch from nachos.

Top a cucumber slice with smoked salmon and a schmear of cream whipped with horseradish and fresh pepper.

Seriously good.

Smoked Salmon Apps

1 cucumber -- the long ones if you can, or 2 regular
1 package smoked salmon
1 cup whipped cream
2 T grated horseradish (usually in the deli section or by produce)
pepper

Cut cucumber in 1/4-inch rounds and top with shred of salmon just matching its size.

Whip cream until it forms heavy peaks. Fold in horseradish and pepper. Dollop each app with cream.

Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy.

Ramen? Rather Not. College Cooking 101

I've been asked by my step-daughter and her roommates to pay particular attention to the cash-strapped, health conscious, college student -- the ones who just raided their homes for outdated colanders, cutting boards and cook pots to outfit apartment kitchens. Who would eat Ramen, but rather not. Who need recipes that are cheap, easy and good. I am assuming that although these are not vain women, food that will not necessitate buying another wardrobe or wearing a tent would be another key feature.

Here goes.

First we stocked her spice cabinet --- good salt, fresh pepper, cinnamon, curry, cumin and ground thyme a must -- and bought good knives and real wine glasses (don't worry, they're 21. And you can never learn too early that cheap wine tastes better out of a glass that sits in your hand in a satisfying manner.) She purchased penne and canned vodka sauce, Nutella, olive oil, Balsamic vinegar and good tea (another treat that doesn't break the bank).

And now she wants to cook. And she's ready.

Rock this recipe, Boo.

Chicken Balsamic

Chicken thighs, 2 per person

balsamic vinegar

salt

garlic, peeled and sliced thin, or mushrooms if desired 

spray oil

Spray a skillet large enough to fit in all your chicken thighs. Spray generously with oil, or use about a tablespoon of olive oil and swirl to coat pan.

If using garlic, sprinkle in bottom of pan with a pinch of sea salt (the thick one) and let cook for a few minutes, or until golden. Flip and add chicken thighs. Cook 5 minutes more, until chicken thigh is browned, then flip chicken. 

Have the top of the pan at the ready. Sprinkle with balsamic (I use about 1/3 cup for 8 thighs for 3 people  and plenty of leftovers.) If using mushrooms, sprinkle over the top and cover fast. Steam will rise when the balsamic hits the pan and you want to capture it to steam the chicken -- this accounts for the moistness of the dish.

Cook until the chicken reaches at least 160 degrees, turning again to coat the chicken. The vinegar will form a nice thick glaze. (This will be about 5-10 more minutes, depending on how many thighs you've got in there. ( We didn't buy you a meat thermometer? Rats. Sorry. Christmas.)

In this picture it looks pretty brown. I assure you it is food alchemy to turn thighs to prize. I love to serve it on a chilly night with cauliflower puree and cranberry sauce. Those are not included in College Cooking 101, but go for it if you want to rock Riverside.

Astound your friends. Befuddle your enemies. Above all, eat good food.

Sante.

Plenty

July has been a month of plenty. Plenty of sunshine. Plenty of swimming. Plenty of children, relatives, friends and fireworks. Plenty of berries -- first strawberries, in a season short and sweet, later black raspberries, coaxed by the heat, and now blueberries, bigger than your eye.

And, in the garden, plenty of herbs. Mint reaching to the sky, just the right height for snapping into a glass of sweet tea. Basil, bushy and fragrant in the breeze that breaks the longest heatwave these parts have seen in 15 years. Leggy cilantro, its feathery plumes heavy with coriander seed that bows its head nearly to the ground.

I fell in love with cilantro at an impressionable age, when it wheeled up on the table side guacamole cart at Rosa Mexicano. We lived about an hour out of Manhattan, and on special occasions my parents would dress up and take us into the city: Rosa Mexicano, with its (then to me) exotic, colorful decor, and Mamma Leone's, with its red sauce and strolling minstrels, were two of our favorites for dinner. Lunch was hands down the Automat, with its booths fashioned like old cars and cafeteria-style comfort food.

I was all of 8. The gimmicks worked like a charm. But it was the tastes, so unlike the kid-friendly fare my mother turned out  -- meatloaf, tuna noodle casserole and hot dog soup (don't ask what was in it. It was delicious) that were the real magic.

Cilantro, of course, has been around loads longer than that. I have read that Pliny named it, for a bedbug whose stench resembled that of the bitter green smell of crushed cilantro leaves. Its dried seeds are the coriander, found in the burial tombs of ancient Chinese and Egyptians to insure immortality. Hippocrates used it in his medical concoctions, and it got a reputation in the Thousand and One Arabian Nights as an aphrodisiac. Some recommend it for detox and anti-inflammatory properties.

We can prove little of this, as with most herbal remedies. But all one has to do is compare the before and after of a fish taco complemented with cilantro to make that of little consequence. Cilantro kicks a dish from humdrum to whoohooo in the time it takes to sprinkle it on.

Take, for instance, this curry chicken. Good enough for a luncheon, its sharp yogurt dressing rounded out with cumin and spiked with scallion. But add cilantro, and presto, with a fresh baguette and a cold rose, its a company meal.

Curried Chicken Salad

One whole roasted chicken
bunch scallions
red pepper
one cup Greek yogurt (I use fat free but no matter)
Two tablespoons curry powder
One teaspoon ground cumin
one cup chopped cilantro
one tablespoon coconut vinegar or soy sauce

Shred chicken meat in a bowl and add scallions and red pepper, diced small.

In a small bowl, mix yogurt, spices and vinegar until combined. Toss with chicken mixture and cilantro.

Enjoy.

Tip 17: See red

We had a very cherry Sunday. The trees are laden with the little red bombs, and we pitted three flats in an evening, with lots of talk and tea. Our fruit is sweet enough to eat off the tree, but definitely needs sugar to create dessert fare.

Problem was, I had no sugar. No refined sugar that is, which every recipe called for. So I improvised, using raw sugar to make flavored simple syrups that sweetened our goods just enough to eliminate pucker. They also added a subtle flavoring that infused the cherries, taking them to dimensions which previously I hadn't prodded them to ascending. I used mint to infuse one simple syrup, from the patch that grows wild in our yard, and lemongrass frozen from last year's monster plant to flavor the other. Any herbs will do; I particularly have a hankering to try a cherry-thyme thingy. That is a technical term.

Anyway, the more cherries the better. If you know any good recipes, share. Cherries are being touted as the new American superfood, claiming to help arthritis and gout, lower weight and reduce factors for heart disease and diabetes. And cherries supposedly contain melatonin, which helps regulate sleep, prevent memory loss and delay the aging process. My mom and aunt both quaff cherry juice daily, and say it helps their joints.

And the number one reason to ingest cherries: they taste good.

Cherry Mint compote

2 cups cherries, pitted
handful of mint leaves, shredded
1/2 cup mint simple syrup, below
2 teaspoons cornsyrup

for the simple syrup:
1 cup water
1/2 cup raw sugar

2 stalks mint, quartered

Make the simple syrup: combine ingredients in saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer 15 minutes very slightly. Let cool on stove. Strain mint out and bottle.

In a separate pan, combine cherries, simple syrup and mint. Cook until cherries are soft and syrupy, about 20 minutes on low. Take some syrup and stir in 1 teaspoon of cornstarch until smooth. Add back to cherry sauce and let simmer. Repeat if not thick enough.

Serve with lamb or salmon. Or both.

Cherry Lemongrass Gelato

2 cups frozen cherries, pitted
3 cups whole milk
1/2 cup lemongrass syrup

2 cups water
1 cup sugar
1 stalk of lemongrass

for the lemongrass syrup: combine ingredients in saucepan and boil. Off heat and simmer 15 minutes very slightly. Let cool on stove. Strain off lemongrass.

In the Vitamix, combine frozen cherries and lemongrass syrup and blend until smooth. Add milk and blend. Freeze in ice cream freezer according to manufacturer's directions. The mixture made more than the freezer held, so we served it as a smoothie. Also a good choice.

Enjoy!