It's that time of year when rhubarb is all the rage, and while its most likely linked compadre, the strawberry, does a nice job of balancing out the tartness, I still feel a little bad for the ol' rhubarb. Can it not stand on its own? What's wrong with fully appreciating the tangy, celery-like stalks of rhubarb for what it is instead of just letting it sit in the shadow of its more popular and beloved partner? I'm also wondering, does anyone really like rhubarb for that matter? Or is it like that guy in a group of friends that no one really knows and he seems cool, but only because of the company he keeps? Like most of the things I discuss on clatter, I don’t have a lot of experience with rhubarb. It’s been an occasional acquaintance over the years – but I have a feeling we’ve gotten along because I like its friends (berries, crispy oatmeal, and butter). How well do I really know rhubarb? Not very. And I wasn’t sure how chummy I was feeling tonight either.
I've had three stalks of rhubarb sitting in my fridge since receiving my Organics to You box last Monday (more on OTY at a later time). Much like the eggplant, I've been avoiding the rhubarb...not so much because I'm intimidated by it, but rather because I've been waiting for that certain moment to be struck with culinary brilliance - that moment where I can prove to my reader(s) (I think someone other than my mother is still reading this) that I really can be innovative; I've been waiting for the time when my creative side might transcend the expected rhubarb-strawberry combo. Prior to any planned OTY delivery, rhubarb actually came up in conversation a few weeks ago, at which point I mentioned how I would love to come up with a savory recipe with rhubarb. We touched on the aforementioned, i.e. how boring and trite the rhubarb+strawberry combo had become, and I do believe I made a vow that clatter would come up with something first rate.
Well...turns out clatter doesn't always deliver as promised. As much as I tried to contemplate a dinner entree incorporating rhubarb this afternoon, I only got so far as pork tenderloin with a rhubarb chutney before I realized that my heart (or stomach) wasn't in it. Maybe this is partially because I had just finished the last Martha Stewart lemon bar I made for an office potluck earlier in the week and I wanted more. Maybe it was because I once proclaimed I am a better baker than I am a cook (not to mention a girl with a huge sweet tooth - I have dental records to prove it!), but after nine blog entries, I still had not yet written about a single dessert. Before I delve too far deep into my psyche (or simply try to justify not keeping my word), I’ll just say this: savory rhubarb anything was out for me tonight. I also knew that yet another rhubarb/berry pairing was out. Rhubarb and I might not be the best of friends, but that wasn’t going to stop me from introducing it to one of my dearest of friends. Here’s what I came up with:
AR’s rhubarb-mango compote (makes about 1 cup when fully cooked)
three stalks of rhubarb, chopped (about 2 cups)
1/4 cup water
few tablespoons of sugar (add more if you prefer really sweet – I like this tart!)
one small mango, chopped
Add rhubarb, sugar, and water to pot until boiling, then reduce to medium heat until rhubarb has begun to soften. Add mango (you don’t want to do this initially since the mango is much softer than the rhubarb and will just get mushy too early) and reduce to low heat until it has softened. Take off burner and either chill or serve at room temperature with creamy vanilla yogurt (vanilla bean ice cream or freshly whipped cream is ideal, but probably not the best choice for breakfast – or dinner, like when I ate it). This would also make an excellent breakfast yogurt parfait with crunchy homemade granola. And speaking of breakfast…
I had a breakfast meeting at Zell's Cafe on SE Belmont this morning. While their French toast left much to be desired, the miniature scones the waitress immediately placed in front of us upon sitting down took me by surprise. They were easily the lightest, most delicate scones to have ever passed my lips. So, with scones (along with rhubarb) on the brain all day, I figured that with the about-to-expire buttermilk in the fridge, I could make some scones tonight that would go nicely with my yogurt/rhubarb. Of course this meant I should balance out the tart and sweetness with something savory, especially since clatter failed in the savory rhubarb department. After remembering I had a few slices of bacon left in the fridge, the excitement of culinary possibilities sent me reaching for my apron and my Cooking Light cookbook.
The following recipe is based loosely off of Cooking Light’s Ham and Cheese Scones. My biggest issue with going “light” on baked goods (and most everything else) is, well, it just doesn’t taste as good that way. I’ve stayed true to CL’s recipe here, however, by using only egg whites and a minimal amount of butter. Other than that, I went full fat. In the original recipe, CL suggests using low sodium ham. While I might consider it, I wanted to use bacon tonight instead. As for reduced-fat cheese? Ha - not a chance!
AR’s Light(ish) Bacon and Cheddar Scones
2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 teaspoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
3 tablespoons chilled butter, in small pieces
3/4 cup shredded extra-sharp cheddar cheese (Tillamook, obviously!)
3 slices of bacon, fried and chopped (I would have used more, but it’s all I had)
3/4 cup buttermilk (CL wanted me to use fat-free. Uh, sorry – 1% is the best I can do.)
2 egg whites
Combine flour, powder, sugar, salt, and cayenne in bowl. Chop butter into small pieces (make sure it’s really cold. Using cold ingredients is the key to a good scone according to my mother – and she knows her scones!) and add to flour mixture until it resembles coarse meal. Stir in cheese and bacon. Whisk together buttermilk and egg white; add them to dry mixture. Stir only to combine – DO NOT OVERSTIR. The dough is pretty sticky, so be sure to flour your hands (I forgot to do this – what a mess) and the counter. Kneed dough only a few times – DO NOT OVERKNEED. (Are you getting the message? If you want fluffy scones, do not overhandle!) Form into an 8” circle onto a sprayed baking sheet and cut into but not through the dough to make 8 wedges. I brushed the top with one of the poor, neglected yolks and sprinkled with kosher salt to “complete the look”. The scones will be fairly salty on their own, but I liked that extra something on top – looks impressive too. Bake on 400 degrees for around 20 minutes until golden brown.
I didn’t have the original CL scones to compare side by side, but these don't disappoint (I have a pretty good idea who would win in the duel – after all, who wants reduced sodium ham and lowfat (i.e. tasteless) cheese when you can have bacon and extra sharp Tillamook?!). Eating alongside the vanilla yogurt with tart rhubarb/mango compote, I have to admit I was quite pleased with myself tonight. This meal would be perfect to serve friends for a weekend brunch, complete with extra spicy bloody marys, of course - salty, sweet, spicy, and tart all rolled into one! Just be sure to have your guests eat the scones while they’re still warm from the oven. It’ll guarantee an enthusiastic acceptance to any subsequent brunch invitation.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Clamming Up
Happy Earth Day from clatter! Earth Day may not exactly be a holiday known for celebration in the form of food, but with any luck, clatter hopes to change that . . .
On the eve of a certain defining moment of my young legal career and suffering from a rather endless week at work, I have been in desperate need of some quality kitchen time to distract me from my troubled mind. Brainstorming ideas this afternoon (between writing briefs, of course), I decided that clatter’s Earth Day tribute should celebrate how the best ingredients come straight from the earth. Well duh, of course they do - this might possibly be the easiest clatter assignment yet, because the possibilities are endless! That being said, I figured I had to make it a little more interesting than that, so I posed the following challenge to myself: make a dinner with dual components – one from in the earth and the other in the ocean.
If there’s ever a place for an obsessed cook to find some inspiration, it’s a large, beautiful, open market where you can easily spend 20 minutes studying the hundreds of cheeses you’ve never heard of (and would taste-test every last one if only given the chance). So tonight after work, I took a trip to the Whole Foods on NE Sandy Blvd. Opinions of Whole Foods run the gamut, but nevertheless always seem to be charged with emotion – sometimes of utter disgust for the “outrageous” prices or of absolute admiration for the freshest, organic, and sometimes toughest-to-find items. You can find me somewhere in the middle - I love to peruse the aisles, examine the fresh meats, study the imported wines, and gape at those cheeses, but it is certainly not my store for everyday groceries. Here’s my unsolicited advice for a successful trip to Whole Foods: GET OUT before your eyes become bigger than your wallet. I’ve been known to fall victim to this in the past, but today I made sure to stay strong.
Ok, I’ll admit – I cheated a little with this challenge. I had intended to go to Whole Foods for inspiration, but before even stepping foot in the store, I went to their website to see if any interesting-looking seafood was on sale (let’s be honest: my current grocery budget doesn’t allow for much in the fresh seafood department). I spotted manila clams, on sale for $4.59/lb…hmmmmm…… Yet another clatter confession: preparing seafood intimidates me. Not only that, it’s not usually my favorite thing to eat either. Of course, now that I’m writing this, I’m realizing that I’ve already written posts on sautéed tilapia and shrimp scampi. I suppose I owe a thank you to clatter for helping me get over one of my many culinary fears! Shrimp and tilapia might be one thing, but clams? I just don’t know about that. They seem much more intense – and allow much more room for error. I guess I would soon find out whether my assumptions were fair.
In my attempt to stick to my WF rule, I walked through the front doors and headed straight to the fresh seafood. As the cheerful fishmonger began to package that pound of manila clams, he asked, among other various questions about my day, “Are you sure this is all you want?” I answered, “Oh yes, that should be plenty.” After all, how many clams does one person need to eat anyway? This looked like more than plenty. Of course, I’m sure he assumed I wasn’t cooking clams for a party of one, but I wasn’t about to share that information with the man, jolly and unassuming as he might appear. He followed up his question with another: “How are ya gonna prepare these?” “Well, I haven’t really decided yet….” “Maybe steam ‘em?” “Uh yeah, maybe.” “Well, be sure to get some crusty bread to soak up those juices!” “Right! I was thinking the same thing! Thank you!” Oh Whole Foods: a place so welcoming, you’ll even make friends with the fishmonger. So I grabbed that crusty baguette and a few more items (essentials only, I promise!), paid, received my complimentary Whole Foods bag in honor of Earth Day, and got the heck out of there without turning back.
After getting home, pouring myself a glass of wine (hey, I’m under stress here!), and sitting down to spend some time doing internet research to figure out what to do with these suckers, I learned a little bit more about the manila clam (local, a favorite among chefs for its small size) and the truth about farm-raised seafood. I’ll admit that after buying those clams, I started to feel a little guilty about buying a farm-raised product, as it seemed to destroy the very spirit of Earth Day. However, turns out that shellfish farming is environmentally friendly because it allows clams to still live on the seawater’s natural nutrients and thus produce no pollution. Phew - what a relief!
As I’ve already asserted, I don’t know a lot about clams, but I do know that they are usually either fried or prepared with white wine, so I thought that was probably a good start - especially since I already had a bottle of Pinot Gris open in the fridge. Well, long story still long, I finally decided to adapt a recipe I found online and came up with the following:
AR’s manila clams in white wine with tomatoes and bacon (aka AR’s Earth Day Celebration for One)
1 lb manila clams, rinsed and soaking in salted ice water until used
bacon, one slice chopped
clove of garlic, minced
couple of dashes of oregano
1 tsp. olive oil
1/4 cup of dry white wine
1 can of good quality whole tomatoes, chopped coarsely (Ina swears that canned tomatoes that come whole taste better than already diced – I’ll believe anything that comes out of that woman's mouth)
Heat oil in pan and sauté garlic and bacon until golden. Add wine until boiling, then the clams and tomatoes. Cover and remain on high heat, shaking pan occasionally. Clams should be done within five minutes. Discard any reject clams that never opened. No losers in my batch! I think it’s a good omen!
This is a very quick process, and a rewarding one at that. I stand corrected: clams are not tough to prepare after all! Swimming in that ravishing pool of white wine and tomatoes, these clams would be incredible over pasta – but I stuck to the fishmonger’s advice and just dunked my bread in it. Not a bad way to go at all.
Are you wondering what happened to the other component of the challenge? Well, considering my novice status with clams, I decided to keep my “in the earth” component simple by just roasting a red potato and turnip, both local and organic, with olive oil, kosher salt, black pepper, rosemary, and a dash of cayenne. Cop out? Maybe (what can I say – the clams were the main event), but they still tasted pretty good aside the clams… even if I was too full to enjoy most of it after eating every single last clam. But holidays are about overindulgence, right? clatter proposes that Earth Day should be no different. And so, in short, this challenge rendered a certain result that just spoke of fresh, local ingredients - straight from the earth and into the clatter kitchen. That’s always something I can celebrate.
On the eve of a certain defining moment of my young legal career and suffering from a rather endless week at work, I have been in desperate need of some quality kitchen time to distract me from my troubled mind. Brainstorming ideas this afternoon (between writing briefs, of course), I decided that clatter’s Earth Day tribute should celebrate how the best ingredients come straight from the earth. Well duh, of course they do - this might possibly be the easiest clatter assignment yet, because the possibilities are endless! That being said, I figured I had to make it a little more interesting than that, so I posed the following challenge to myself: make a dinner with dual components – one from in the earth and the other in the ocean.
If there’s ever a place for an obsessed cook to find some inspiration, it’s a large, beautiful, open market where you can easily spend 20 minutes studying the hundreds of cheeses you’ve never heard of (and would taste-test every last one if only given the chance). So tonight after work, I took a trip to the Whole Foods on NE Sandy Blvd. Opinions of Whole Foods run the gamut, but nevertheless always seem to be charged with emotion – sometimes of utter disgust for the “outrageous” prices or of absolute admiration for the freshest, organic, and sometimes toughest-to-find items. You can find me somewhere in the middle - I love to peruse the aisles, examine the fresh meats, study the imported wines, and gape at those cheeses, but it is certainly not my store for everyday groceries. Here’s my unsolicited advice for a successful trip to Whole Foods: GET OUT before your eyes become bigger than your wallet. I’ve been known to fall victim to this in the past, but today I made sure to stay strong.
Ok, I’ll admit – I cheated a little with this challenge. I had intended to go to Whole Foods for inspiration, but before even stepping foot in the store, I went to their website to see if any interesting-looking seafood was on sale (let’s be honest: my current grocery budget doesn’t allow for much in the fresh seafood department). I spotted manila clams, on sale for $4.59/lb…hmmmmm…… Yet another clatter confession: preparing seafood intimidates me. Not only that, it’s not usually my favorite thing to eat either. Of course, now that I’m writing this, I’m realizing that I’ve already written posts on sautéed tilapia and shrimp scampi. I suppose I owe a thank you to clatter for helping me get over one of my many culinary fears! Shrimp and tilapia might be one thing, but clams? I just don’t know about that. They seem much more intense – and allow much more room for error. I guess I would soon find out whether my assumptions were fair.
In my attempt to stick to my WF rule, I walked through the front doors and headed straight to the fresh seafood. As the cheerful fishmonger began to package that pound of manila clams, he asked, among other various questions about my day, “Are you sure this is all you want?” I answered, “Oh yes, that should be plenty.” After all, how many clams does one person need to eat anyway? This looked like more than plenty. Of course, I’m sure he assumed I wasn’t cooking clams for a party of one, but I wasn’t about to share that information with the man, jolly and unassuming as he might appear. He followed up his question with another: “How are ya gonna prepare these?” “Well, I haven’t really decided yet….” “Maybe steam ‘em?” “Uh yeah, maybe.” “Well, be sure to get some crusty bread to soak up those juices!” “Right! I was thinking the same thing! Thank you!” Oh Whole Foods: a place so welcoming, you’ll even make friends with the fishmonger. So I grabbed that crusty baguette and a few more items (essentials only, I promise!), paid, received my complimentary Whole Foods bag in honor of Earth Day, and got the heck out of there without turning back.
After getting home, pouring myself a glass of wine (hey, I’m under stress here!), and sitting down to spend some time doing internet research to figure out what to do with these suckers, I learned a little bit more about the manila clam (local, a favorite among chefs for its small size) and the truth about farm-raised seafood. I’ll admit that after buying those clams, I started to feel a little guilty about buying a farm-raised product, as it seemed to destroy the very spirit of Earth Day. However, turns out that shellfish farming is environmentally friendly because it allows clams to still live on the seawater’s natural nutrients and thus produce no pollution. Phew - what a relief!
As I’ve already asserted, I don’t know a lot about clams, but I do know that they are usually either fried or prepared with white wine, so I thought that was probably a good start - especially since I already had a bottle of Pinot Gris open in the fridge. Well, long story still long, I finally decided to adapt a recipe I found online and came up with the following:
AR’s manila clams in white wine with tomatoes and bacon (aka AR’s Earth Day Celebration for One)
1 lb manila clams, rinsed and soaking in salted ice water until used
bacon, one slice chopped
clove of garlic, minced
couple of dashes of oregano
1 tsp. olive oil
1/4 cup of dry white wine
1 can of good quality whole tomatoes, chopped coarsely (Ina swears that canned tomatoes that come whole taste better than already diced – I’ll believe anything that comes out of that woman's mouth)
Heat oil in pan and sauté garlic and bacon until golden. Add wine until boiling, then the clams and tomatoes. Cover and remain on high heat, shaking pan occasionally. Clams should be done within five minutes. Discard any reject clams that never opened. No losers in my batch! I think it’s a good omen!
This is a very quick process, and a rewarding one at that. I stand corrected: clams are not tough to prepare after all! Swimming in that ravishing pool of white wine and tomatoes, these clams would be incredible over pasta – but I stuck to the fishmonger’s advice and just dunked my bread in it. Not a bad way to go at all.
Are you wondering what happened to the other component of the challenge? Well, considering my novice status with clams, I decided to keep my “in the earth” component simple by just roasting a red potato and turnip, both local and organic, with olive oil, kosher salt, black pepper, rosemary, and a dash of cayenne. Cop out? Maybe (what can I say – the clams were the main event), but they still tasted pretty good aside the clams… even if I was too full to enjoy most of it after eating every single last clam. But holidays are about overindulgence, right? clatter proposes that Earth Day should be no different. And so, in short, this challenge rendered a certain result that just spoke of fresh, local ingredients - straight from the earth and into the clatter kitchen. That’s always something I can celebrate.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Oh Italy, How I Long for Thee
In great anticipation of my dinner reservations tonight at Portland's highly praised Apizza Scholls, my mind has suddenly become clouded with thoughts of Italy and calculations of how much pizza I really did consume when I was there three years ago (answer: an obscene amount). One of my foodie friends calls Apizza the best pizza she’s had outside of Italy and if Anthony Bourdain calls it “crazy good”, this is definitely something that I can get excited about. And since there’s nothing like restaurant hype and a lazy weekend afternoon to get me in the mood to cook, I got right to it. I couldn’t think of a better way to lead up to a great night of real pizza (they make all their dough by hand!) and a fantastic group of friends, than to make a salad for lunch that captures the spirit of Italy and my longing for my days of Tuscan living. Granted I never even ate this when I lived in Florence for a month and traveled around Italy in the summer of 2007, but that doesn’t change the fact that making panzanella, a grilled bread salad, would provide that perfect prelude to my evening of pizza the way it was meant to be made.
I’ve come across a number of recipes for panzanella over time, and they have all seem to include a few of the staples: cubed, crusty bread, tomatoes, basil, and olive oil. From there, the recipes vary in ingredients. Since I want to “save” myself for full indulgence of the pizza tonight, I didn’t want to overdo it for lunch. However, I still wanted to make it hearty enough that I would be sustained until dinner – that’s why I decided to add some protein with tuna in my version of this Tuscan classic. This salad is ideally made in summer when there is an abundance of tasty tomatoes and flourishing basil, but that’s not to say you can’t make a similar thing right now and just pretend it’s summer. After all, with a high of 73 expected in Portland today and my apartment windows open with the sun pouring in, it hasn’t been too difficult to fool myself into thinking summer is already here.
AR’s “Summer’s Upon Us” Panzanella
old or stale Italian bread (I used an old loaf of Marsee Bakery pugliese from my freezer)
tomatoes, any variety or several, chopped
colored bell peppers, chopped (I only had red in the fridge, but it would be even prettier and tastier with a variety)
flat-leaf parsley and fresh basil, torn or chopped
red onion, thinly sliced
canned tuna, packed in olive oil
haricot vert (I’m well aware that’s French and not Italian, but the extra fine green beans are still good in it)
arugula or mixed spring greens (not a lot though – this is a “chunky” salad, not a leafy one)
olive oil
balsamic vinegar
fresh lemon juice
salt and pepper
Thickly slice bread, brush with olive oil, and toast in oven on 400 degrees until golden and crispy (if you have access to a grill and do it that way, even better!). Prep all other ingredients. Once bread is done, cool and then cube. Make vinaigrette by whisking olive oil, balsamic vinegar, fresh lemon juice, and S & P. Add bread with all vegetables, fresh herbs, and tuna in bowl. Drizzle with vinaigrette and toss thoroughly. Add freshly ground pepper as needed. If you have time to let the bread soak in the dressing, do it. But if you’re really hungry, no shame in digging in immediately. I highly recommend that you close your eyes as you do and imagine you’re eating it along the Arno, with a clear view of the Ponte Vecchio. Trust me: the panzanella tastes even better that way.
And on a completely separate note: In an attempt to clear clatter’s name before the nasty lawsuits are filed and violent riots rumble in the streets, I would like to assure my readers that it is purely coincidental that the May 2010 issue of Food & Wine contains a recipe for a Santa Fe Quinoa Salad (http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/santa-fe-quinoa-salad). Sound familiar? Upon discovering this last night, I first reacted with an over-dramatized gasp and jaw-drop (I have witnesses who can vouch for this), followed by a whole host of thoughts, ranging from “My clatter readers are going to see this!” and “My clatter credibility is shot!” to “Allison, you are clairvoyant!” and “This is why you’re meant to work for a food magazine or in a test kitchen!” But once the initial shock subsided, I decided to take it easy because 1) I doubt my readers pore over and study each Food & Wine issue with such precision as yours truly and would even notice; 2) I could easily defuse the situation by simply addressing it in my next post; and 3) My blog and I are not important enough that any of this matters in the least bit. Even so, Members of the Jury, what I ask of you today is simply this: Look at the facts. clatter’s post was on April 1, the Food & Wine May issue did not hit newsstands until sometime after the first (expert testimony will prove this). And so, barring any evidence that supports an assertion that clatter received intel from the bigwigs of the New York publication (there isn't any), you must find that clatter should be exonerated from any wrongdoing. It should also be stated that with a closer inspection of each recipe, you will find that clatter’s version is much better anyway.
I’ve come across a number of recipes for panzanella over time, and they have all seem to include a few of the staples: cubed, crusty bread, tomatoes, basil, and olive oil. From there, the recipes vary in ingredients. Since I want to “save” myself for full indulgence of the pizza tonight, I didn’t want to overdo it for lunch. However, I still wanted to make it hearty enough that I would be sustained until dinner – that’s why I decided to add some protein with tuna in my version of this Tuscan classic. This salad is ideally made in summer when there is an abundance of tasty tomatoes and flourishing basil, but that’s not to say you can’t make a similar thing right now and just pretend it’s summer. After all, with a high of 73 expected in Portland today and my apartment windows open with the sun pouring in, it hasn’t been too difficult to fool myself into thinking summer is already here.
AR’s “Summer’s Upon Us” Panzanella
old or stale Italian bread (I used an old loaf of Marsee Bakery pugliese from my freezer)
tomatoes, any variety or several, chopped
colored bell peppers, chopped (I only had red in the fridge, but it would be even prettier and tastier with a variety)
flat-leaf parsley and fresh basil, torn or chopped
red onion, thinly sliced
canned tuna, packed in olive oil
haricot vert (I’m well aware that’s French and not Italian, but the extra fine green beans are still good in it)
arugula or mixed spring greens (not a lot though – this is a “chunky” salad, not a leafy one)
olive oil
balsamic vinegar
fresh lemon juice
salt and pepper
Thickly slice bread, brush with olive oil, and toast in oven on 400 degrees until golden and crispy (if you have access to a grill and do it that way, even better!). Prep all other ingredients. Once bread is done, cool and then cube. Make vinaigrette by whisking olive oil, balsamic vinegar, fresh lemon juice, and S & P. Add bread with all vegetables, fresh herbs, and tuna in bowl. Drizzle with vinaigrette and toss thoroughly. Add freshly ground pepper as needed. If you have time to let the bread soak in the dressing, do it. But if you’re really hungry, no shame in digging in immediately. I highly recommend that you close your eyes as you do and imagine you’re eating it along the Arno, with a clear view of the Ponte Vecchio. Trust me: the panzanella tastes even better that way.
And on a completely separate note: In an attempt to clear clatter’s name before the nasty lawsuits are filed and violent riots rumble in the streets, I would like to assure my readers that it is purely coincidental that the May 2010 issue of Food & Wine contains a recipe for a Santa Fe Quinoa Salad (http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/santa-fe-quinoa-salad). Sound familiar? Upon discovering this last night, I first reacted with an over-dramatized gasp and jaw-drop (I have witnesses who can vouch for this), followed by a whole host of thoughts, ranging from “My clatter readers are going to see this!” and “My clatter credibility is shot!” to “Allison, you are clairvoyant!” and “This is why you’re meant to work for a food magazine or in a test kitchen!” But once the initial shock subsided, I decided to take it easy because 1) I doubt my readers pore over and study each Food & Wine issue with such precision as yours truly and would even notice; 2) I could easily defuse the situation by simply addressing it in my next post; and 3) My blog and I are not important enough that any of this matters in the least bit. Even so, Members of the Jury, what I ask of you today is simply this: Look at the facts. clatter’s post was on April 1, the Food & Wine May issue did not hit newsstands until sometime after the first (expert testimony will prove this). And so, barring any evidence that supports an assertion that clatter received intel from the bigwigs of the New York publication (there isn't any), you must find that clatter should be exonerated from any wrongdoing. It should also be stated that with a closer inspection of each recipe, you will find that clatter’s version is much better anyway.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Big Egg(plant)
Greetings! I’m back and will try my best to restore your eight long, empty days of clatter-less living. Please excuse my absence - I think that my fun-filled weekend of overindulgence in food and beverage around the city with an out-of-town guest took its toll on clatter’s punctual postings. I know that my longer than expected recovery from the weekend is at least, in part, due to the fact that I'm still trying to get over: 1) the absurdity of the dollhouse-size food proportions at Urban Farmer of the ever pretentious (but still kinda cool) Nines Hotel downtown. Please take note: their $5 slider (as in singular – not sliders) is not a misprint. It’s one measly, miniature burger. For $5. On the happy hour menu. Needless to say, I will never make that mistake again. and 2) the absolute delight of my second trip to The Big Egg food cart on Mississippi Avenue on Sunday for brunch. All weekend I had looked forward to eating that satiable breakfast wrap I had a couple of months ago, but upon arriving at the cart, I read the most dreaded words of all: "Breakfast Wrap. Sold Out." How quickly tragedy can turn to triumph though, because that Monte Cristo I was then forced to order was somethin' else (and I mean the good kind). I’m already stressing about which of the two I’m going to order next time.
Back in the clatter kitchen (and feeling that urge to cook after a weekend of spending too much money not), I was excited on Monday night and knew exactly what I was going to do. You know that slightly uncomfortable situation when you accidentally lock eyes with a stranger and can't quite look away? Well, that’s what happened to me last week at the grocery store. With the eggplant. My eyes accidentally spotted it and I found myself staring at it and it stared right back at me. I knew at that very moment that my clatter world would never be the same. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it at the time of purchase, but all weekend as I gallivanted around Portland, I periodically thought about that neglected eggplant, sitting in my kitchen, begging to be used. On Monday night, I knew it was time.
I’d be lying if I told you that I thought up an eggplant quesadilla entirely on my own, because I actually came across the concept when I started poking around food52.com yesterday during my lunch break to get some ideas. However, the similarities between the recipe I found on food52 and mine begin and end with the roasted eggplant and tortillas. After some soul searching (or maybe just daydreaming away my day job), I came up with the following yesterday afternoon and raced home as fast as I could to try it...
AR’s roasted eggplant quesadilla with smoked paprika dipping sauce
half of eggplant, chopped into small cubes
clove of garlic, minced
two to three tablespoons of olive oil
salt and pepper
tortilla (I used TJ’s organic wheat flour and corn, which I happen to love)
chopped marinated artichoke hearts (be sure to save some of its oil)
crumbled chèvre (yeah, that’s goat cheese – chevre just sounds fancier)
Chop the eggplant into small cubes and throw them on a sprayed baking sheet (I used aluminum foil for a faster clean-up). Mince the garlic and add with olive oil in bowl. Pour over eggplant and make sure it’s well-tossed. Liberally salt and pepper. Roast in the oven in for about 25 minutes at 450 degrees until the eggplant begins to look dark and crispy on the outside (I think it’s still going to be a slightly mushy on the inside no matter what, so you’ll just have to deal with this.) Meanwhile, chop the marinated artichoke hearts and make the dipping sauce.
Combine in a bowl:
sour cream (you could also use mayonnaise, but I like the extra tang of the sour cream – plus mayo still grosses me out sometimes and I didn’t want to dip my quesadilla in it)
chopped flat leaf parsley
smoked paprika (use lots depending on how smoky you want it!)
freshly ground black pepper
Once the eggplant is done roasting, remove from oven and heat pan with cooking spray (or oil if you like your tortillas a little greasier) on medium high heat (I like to use my crepe pan when I make quesadillas). Add tortilla and assemble on one half a healthy portion of roasted eggplant, chopped marinated artichoke hearts and crumbled goat cheese. Drizzle the top with some oil from the artichokes and ground some black pepper over it. Fold the tortilla and cook both sides until golden brown. Cut in quarters and dip in that smoky sauce at your leisure.
Borrowing the famous words of my father when he’s describing a complex wine, “there’s a lot going on” with this quesadilla. You’ve got the crispiness of the tortilla, the tang and creaminess of the goat cheese, the acidity of the marinated artichokes, the smokiness of the paprika, the freshness of the parsley, and.... the BLAH of the eggplant. In my humble assessment of my recipe, its overall success comes not from the eggplant, but from every other component other than the eggplant (duh - you can’t go wrong with artichokes and goat cheese!). Perhaps it was my own fault to try and mask the alleged “natural flavor” of the eggplant by roasting the garlic with it, but I still remain unconvinced that it would have made that much difference had I stuck to just olive oil and salt and pepper.
For those of you who like roasted garlic, you should definitely include it in this, as it gives the eggplant (and thus the quesadilla) more depth. For me, however, a couple of bites of that strong roasted garlic flavor only brought back painful memories of my Friday night at Pambiche* when I took a big bite of a mushroom…only to find (via my gag reflex) that it was not a mushroom at all. No no, it was one fatty clove of roasted garlic. In this clatter adventure of mine, not only am I discovering the best of foods and ingredients out there, I’m also unearthing those things I never knew about myself. Turns out I don’t like the flavor of roasted garlic. At all. Folks, you heard it here first. And speaking of things I don’t really like…
After eating eggplant several times before and now cooking with it for the first time, I can finally state without reserve: I just don’t get it. Eggplant has officially joined my “what’s the point of eating it?” category (if the eggplant and tofu aren’t friends already, they should be!). However, if you find my eggplant evaluation lacks in value, by all means, try to convince me otherwise! I’d love to taste something delectable with eggplant in it - and I don’t mean putting it with a bunch of other favorite ingredients to hide its true nature either. Give me something where I can taste the eggplant for all that it is (or isn’t). But until I can swoon over someone else's eggplant concoction, I will continue my love affair with the real egg, because as of now, our future together looks much more promising.
*I would write a review about said Cuban cuisine, but I was properly taught that if I can't say something nice…
Back in the clatter kitchen (and feeling that urge to cook after a weekend of spending too much money not), I was excited on Monday night and knew exactly what I was going to do. You know that slightly uncomfortable situation when you accidentally lock eyes with a stranger and can't quite look away? Well, that’s what happened to me last week at the grocery store. With the eggplant. My eyes accidentally spotted it and I found myself staring at it and it stared right back at me. I knew at that very moment that my clatter world would never be the same. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it at the time of purchase, but all weekend as I gallivanted around Portland, I periodically thought about that neglected eggplant, sitting in my kitchen, begging to be used. On Monday night, I knew it was time.
I’d be lying if I told you that I thought up an eggplant quesadilla entirely on my own, because I actually came across the concept when I started poking around food52.com yesterday during my lunch break to get some ideas. However, the similarities between the recipe I found on food52 and mine begin and end with the roasted eggplant and tortillas. After some soul searching (or maybe just daydreaming away my day job), I came up with the following yesterday afternoon and raced home as fast as I could to try it...
AR’s roasted eggplant quesadilla with smoked paprika dipping sauce
half of eggplant, chopped into small cubes
clove of garlic, minced
two to three tablespoons of olive oil
salt and pepper
tortilla (I used TJ’s organic wheat flour and corn, which I happen to love)
chopped marinated artichoke hearts (be sure to save some of its oil)
crumbled chèvre (yeah, that’s goat cheese – chevre just sounds fancier)
Chop the eggplant into small cubes and throw them on a sprayed baking sheet (I used aluminum foil for a faster clean-up). Mince the garlic and add with olive oil in bowl. Pour over eggplant and make sure it’s well-tossed. Liberally salt and pepper. Roast in the oven in for about 25 minutes at 450 degrees until the eggplant begins to look dark and crispy on the outside (I think it’s still going to be a slightly mushy on the inside no matter what, so you’ll just have to deal with this.) Meanwhile, chop the marinated artichoke hearts and make the dipping sauce.
Combine in a bowl:
sour cream (you could also use mayonnaise, but I like the extra tang of the sour cream – plus mayo still grosses me out sometimes and I didn’t want to dip my quesadilla in it)
chopped flat leaf parsley
smoked paprika (use lots depending on how smoky you want it!)
freshly ground black pepper
Once the eggplant is done roasting, remove from oven and heat pan with cooking spray (or oil if you like your tortillas a little greasier) on medium high heat (I like to use my crepe pan when I make quesadillas). Add tortilla and assemble on one half a healthy portion of roasted eggplant, chopped marinated artichoke hearts and crumbled goat cheese. Drizzle the top with some oil from the artichokes and ground some black pepper over it. Fold the tortilla and cook both sides until golden brown. Cut in quarters and dip in that smoky sauce at your leisure.
Borrowing the famous words of my father when he’s describing a complex wine, “there’s a lot going on” with this quesadilla. You’ve got the crispiness of the tortilla, the tang and creaminess of the goat cheese, the acidity of the marinated artichokes, the smokiness of the paprika, the freshness of the parsley, and.... the BLAH of the eggplant. In my humble assessment of my recipe, its overall success comes not from the eggplant, but from every other component other than the eggplant (duh - you can’t go wrong with artichokes and goat cheese!). Perhaps it was my own fault to try and mask the alleged “natural flavor” of the eggplant by roasting the garlic with it, but I still remain unconvinced that it would have made that much difference had I stuck to just olive oil and salt and pepper.
For those of you who like roasted garlic, you should definitely include it in this, as it gives the eggplant (and thus the quesadilla) more depth. For me, however, a couple of bites of that strong roasted garlic flavor only brought back painful memories of my Friday night at Pambiche* when I took a big bite of a mushroom…only to find (via my gag reflex) that it was not a mushroom at all. No no, it was one fatty clove of roasted garlic. In this clatter adventure of mine, not only am I discovering the best of foods and ingredients out there, I’m also unearthing those things I never knew about myself. Turns out I don’t like the flavor of roasted garlic. At all. Folks, you heard it here first. And speaking of things I don’t really like…
After eating eggplant several times before and now cooking with it for the first time, I can finally state without reserve: I just don’t get it. Eggplant has officially joined my “what’s the point of eating it?” category (if the eggplant and tofu aren’t friends already, they should be!). However, if you find my eggplant evaluation lacks in value, by all means, try to convince me otherwise! I’d love to taste something delectable with eggplant in it - and I don’t mean putting it with a bunch of other favorite ingredients to hide its true nature either. Give me something where I can taste the eggplant for all that it is (or isn’t). But until I can swoon over someone else's eggplant concoction, I will continue my love affair with the real egg, because as of now, our future together looks much more promising.
*I would write a review about said Cuban cuisine, but I was properly taught that if I can't say something nice…
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Legal Poaching: a delicious oxymoron
Happy Easter from clatter!
If your Easter was anything like mine, you celebrated the holiday the way in which you should: eating rich, cholesterol-heavy food (ham and/or eggs for 93.7% of the American population*) without an ounce of guilt. Some people do the brunch thing, while others do the traditional Easter ham dinner. For my family this year, we combined the two by eating ham for brunch in the form of the ever decadent, always crowd-pleasing Eggs Benedict.
My brother-in-law, the cook at the helm of this operation (and seasoned in both Hollandaise sauce making and eating), decided to stay mostly traditional with the EB, except that he chose to use a toasted ciabatta-like bread instead of the typical English muffin (which I found to be an excellent decision). As the sous chef on call, I expected to do nothing more than sift through his new Thomas Keller Ad Hoc at Home cookbook and sip on my mimosa. This I happily did (that cookbook is awesome!), until I was summoned…to poach the eggs. clatter confession #1: I am (well, was) a poached egg virgin. Sure I’ve eaten poached eggs before, but I had never attempted to do it myself in the kitchen. While I figured it couldn’t possibly be that hard, the last thing I wanted to do was single-handedly ruin Easter by botching the less than dozen eggs in the house on failed attempts in poaching. Of course I was still up for the challenge, but I was a little apprehensive about it.**
After watching a Gordon Ramsey video on youtube (I may have sent Julia Child rolling in her grave by choosing to do this instead of reading her notes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking (hereinafter MAFC)) and taking oral instruction from my brother-in-law, I was ready to do it. With a large pot of water on a heavy simmer, I cracked the first egg into a small glass bowl. Slipping the egg from the bowl into the center of the pot of water, I then dipped the bottom half of a wooden spoon into the water to keep it flowing in a clockwise direction (maybe I would have done it the other direction had I been in the southern hemisphere) as the egg cooked. I was hoping that the egg, in this whirlwind of confusion and cloudiness, knew how to take care of the rest, because from where I was looking, that pot of water brewed only chaos. About two minutes later, I decided it was time to face the moment of truth, and I grabbed a slotted spoon and fished for my first victim. And victim it was. With the egg's hard yoke detached from its shredded white counterparts, that pot of water had the looks of a grisly crime scene – all that was missing was the yellow tape. Something had gone terriby awry here indeed, and I knew in my heart I just couldn’t blame the poor egg. After consulting with the chef, we both decided that the water needed to be on a very low simmer and I needed to cook the egg for maybe half the time. So with the new game plan in place, the second egg took a swim… and to my utter delight, that poached egg was perfect! Feeling confident, I did a couple more, until the chef decided he would take over. It was time to eat.
clatter confession #2: I am (well, was) a Hollandaise virgin. I’d never eaten it and never made it. Well, I guess I still haven’t made it, but after taking a few bites of the toast with uncured ham and that perfectly poached egg drenched in Hollandaise sauce, I decided that butter and eggs yolks and lemon juice blended together just ain’t too shabby after all. There’s also something so satisfying and fun about poking and prodding that comfortably settled egg atop the sliced ham until the yolk spills every which way onto your plate!
So, clatter’s take on Eggs Benedict? egg yolks on top of egg yolks. Ingenious! It seems that I may have to change my clatter profile, because after today’s Easter brunch, learning to love runny yolks never felt so easy. Or should I say over easy?
*clatter has made up 100% of this statistic.
**clatter is well aware of the fact that Julie Powell blogged about and ultimately published in her memoir Julie & Julia her poached egg experiences. clatter is neither attempting to copy, recreate, nor upstage Ms. Powell’s accomplishments. It simply hopes to bring a new perspective (and a less vulgar writing style) to its readers.
If your Easter was anything like mine, you celebrated the holiday the way in which you should: eating rich, cholesterol-heavy food (ham and/or eggs for 93.7% of the American population*) without an ounce of guilt. Some people do the brunch thing, while others do the traditional Easter ham dinner. For my family this year, we combined the two by eating ham for brunch in the form of the ever decadent, always crowd-pleasing Eggs Benedict.
My brother-in-law, the cook at the helm of this operation (and seasoned in both Hollandaise sauce making and eating), decided to stay mostly traditional with the EB, except that he chose to use a toasted ciabatta-like bread instead of the typical English muffin (which I found to be an excellent decision). As the sous chef on call, I expected to do nothing more than sift through his new Thomas Keller Ad Hoc at Home cookbook and sip on my mimosa. This I happily did (that cookbook is awesome!), until I was summoned…to poach the eggs. clatter confession #1: I am (well, was) a poached egg virgin. Sure I’ve eaten poached eggs before, but I had never attempted to do it myself in the kitchen. While I figured it couldn’t possibly be that hard, the last thing I wanted to do was single-handedly ruin Easter by botching the less than dozen eggs in the house on failed attempts in poaching. Of course I was still up for the challenge, but I was a little apprehensive about it.**
After watching a Gordon Ramsey video on youtube (I may have sent Julia Child rolling in her grave by choosing to do this instead of reading her notes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking (hereinafter MAFC)) and taking oral instruction from my brother-in-law, I was ready to do it. With a large pot of water on a heavy simmer, I cracked the first egg into a small glass bowl. Slipping the egg from the bowl into the center of the pot of water, I then dipped the bottom half of a wooden spoon into the water to keep it flowing in a clockwise direction (maybe I would have done it the other direction had I been in the southern hemisphere) as the egg cooked. I was hoping that the egg, in this whirlwind of confusion and cloudiness, knew how to take care of the rest, because from where I was looking, that pot of water brewed only chaos. About two minutes later, I decided it was time to face the moment of truth, and I grabbed a slotted spoon and fished for my first victim. And victim it was. With the egg's hard yoke detached from its shredded white counterparts, that pot of water had the looks of a grisly crime scene – all that was missing was the yellow tape. Something had gone terriby awry here indeed, and I knew in my heart I just couldn’t blame the poor egg. After consulting with the chef, we both decided that the water needed to be on a very low simmer and I needed to cook the egg for maybe half the time. So with the new game plan in place, the second egg took a swim… and to my utter delight, that poached egg was perfect! Feeling confident, I did a couple more, until the chef decided he would take over. It was time to eat.
clatter confession #2: I am (well, was) a Hollandaise virgin. I’d never eaten it and never made it. Well, I guess I still haven’t made it, but after taking a few bites of the toast with uncured ham and that perfectly poached egg drenched in Hollandaise sauce, I decided that butter and eggs yolks and lemon juice blended together just ain’t too shabby after all. There’s also something so satisfying and fun about poking and prodding that comfortably settled egg atop the sliced ham until the yolk spills every which way onto your plate!
So, clatter’s take on Eggs Benedict? egg yolks on top of egg yolks. Ingenious! It seems that I may have to change my clatter profile, because after today’s Easter brunch, learning to love runny yolks never felt so easy. Or should I say over easy?
*clatter has made up 100% of this statistic.
**clatter is well aware of the fact that Julie Powell blogged about and ultimately published in her memoir Julie & Julia her poached egg experiences. clatter is neither attempting to copy, recreate, nor upstage Ms. Powell’s accomplishments. It simply hopes to bring a new perspective (and a less vulgar writing style) to its readers.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Behold, the One Bowl Wonder!
I would never dub myself a huge carnivore, or even a “meat and potatoes” girl, but I still love a juicy steak or a greasy cheeseburger as much as the average (i.e., ah hem, fat) American. That said, there's just something wrong with a 20-something year old girl heating up the ol’ grill and throwing on a rib eye or beef patty for one. (It's also impossible when you don't own a grill - and when your small apartment balcony is predestined for herbs and a tomato plant.) Albeit a proud, 21st century, equal opportunity kind of gal (I went to an all-girls school for goodness' sake!), I still say leave it to the man to deal with the grill. So last night, without the man or the grill or that burning desire for bloody flesh, clatter decided to go vegetarian. After conversing with a friend earlier in the day about some "amazing" food cart in Portland (www.thewholebowl.com) that sells one item only - a wonderful amalgamation of brown rice, beans, cheese, olives, avocado, cilantro, and special sauce in a bowl - I got to thinking about dinner (and I knew I had to be extra creative again because I've remained too lazy to go to the grocery store this week). Of course I've never eaten said "whole bowl", but I still imagined what it could be like and it started to sound good. This intrigue, combined with a specific request (or challenge!) clatter received last weekend from a dear friend to create something with quinoa (KEEN-wah), I began to channel my healthy, inner vegetarian, and the wheels started turning.
Quinoa and I have only been acquainted for the last year or so (thanks to my sister for formally introducing us – I think we’re going to be lifelong friends), and I've only cooked with it a couple of times since. It's a different kind of grain - I liken it to a cross between bulgur wheat and couscous. High in protein and iron, quinoa works great in salads, either as a hearty side or the main event. And according to the box, it’s gluten-free (which some people may be concerned with, but I’m not). All in all, quinoa is a fun ingredient to use if you want to take a detour from boring rice or couscous (I purposefully left bulgur wheat off of that list, because my Lebanese heritage demands that I hold it in the highest regard, which I proudly do).
So, with inspiration soaring high, I flew to the kitchen to create.... (Jill, this one’s for you!)
AR's southwestern quinoa & black bean salad (serves one for dinner, and the same one for lunch the next day at the office)
1/2 cup dry quinoa (mine was organic, giving my "hippie food" a little more street cred)
1 cup water
one can of black beans, drained and rinsed
4-5 tablespoons of diced red onion
1/4 red bell pepper, diced (I would add even more next time because j'adore le red pepper)
healthy handful of cilantro, coarsely chopped (I know that's not usually how herbs go, but I like bigger pieces in this)
1/4 cup of shredded pepper jack cheese (I couldn't in good conscience make this salad too healthy)
salt and freshly ground pepper (I forgot to salt the quinoa as it cooked, and you should probably do that)
ground cumin (I threw a bunch in, maybe 1 tablespoon's worth, because cumin is a top five favorite spice for me, but you could certainly tone it down depending on preference)
hot sauce (optional for some, but not for me - I used TJ's jalapeño pepper sauce, which, since discovering it a couple of weeks ago, I douse on anything remotely resembling Mexican food.)
other items that would be good in it that I didn’t have:
fresh lime juice (I really wanted this in it, but didn’t have a spare lime)
diced avocado
diced jalapeño or serrano pepper
chopped tomatoes
or better yet, fresh pico de gallo
Add quinoa and water in pot and bring to boil. Cover and reduce to simmer for about 15 minutes (you’ll be surprised how dry it gets, but that’s how it’s supposed to be). Meanwhile, prep all the other ingredients. Once the quinoa is done, toss together and you’re done. This salad would be perfectly good warm or room temperature, but I wanted mine a little colder. So I popped that quinoa salad in the freezer for about 15 minutes (I could have waited longer, but I was too hungry.) I doubt it really made that much of a difference, but the very act of putting it in and taking it out of the freezer tricked me into thinking I was eating a cold salad (mind over matter!).
Adding the black beans makes this salad very filling, so there's really no need to go beyond a single bowl and spoon (that's right, I ate my salad with a spoon. Is that weird? Maybe I would have opted for the spork, but no such utensil could be found in the clatter kitchen). Now if only I hadn’t ruined my perfectly healthy meal by gorging myself afterwards with Whoppers robin eggs and Starburst jelly beans… Damn Easter candy. Gets me every time.
Quinoa and I have only been acquainted for the last year or so (thanks to my sister for formally introducing us – I think we’re going to be lifelong friends), and I've only cooked with it a couple of times since. It's a different kind of grain - I liken it to a cross between bulgur wheat and couscous. High in protein and iron, quinoa works great in salads, either as a hearty side or the main event. And according to the box, it’s gluten-free (which some people may be concerned with, but I’m not). All in all, quinoa is a fun ingredient to use if you want to take a detour from boring rice or couscous (I purposefully left bulgur wheat off of that list, because my Lebanese heritage demands that I hold it in the highest regard, which I proudly do).
So, with inspiration soaring high, I flew to the kitchen to create.... (Jill, this one’s for you!)
AR's southwestern quinoa & black bean salad (serves one for dinner, and the same one for lunch the next day at the office)
1/2 cup dry quinoa (mine was organic, giving my "hippie food" a little more street cred)
1 cup water
one can of black beans, drained and rinsed
4-5 tablespoons of diced red onion
1/4 red bell pepper, diced (I would add even more next time because j'adore le red pepper)
healthy handful of cilantro, coarsely chopped (I know that's not usually how herbs go, but I like bigger pieces in this)
1/4 cup of shredded pepper jack cheese (I couldn't in good conscience make this salad too healthy)
salt and freshly ground pepper (I forgot to salt the quinoa as it cooked, and you should probably do that)
ground cumin (I threw a bunch in, maybe 1 tablespoon's worth, because cumin is a top five favorite spice for me, but you could certainly tone it down depending on preference)
hot sauce (optional for some, but not for me - I used TJ's jalapeño pepper sauce, which, since discovering it a couple of weeks ago, I douse on anything remotely resembling Mexican food.)
other items that would be good in it that I didn’t have:
fresh lime juice (I really wanted this in it, but didn’t have a spare lime)
diced avocado
diced jalapeño or serrano pepper
chopped tomatoes
or better yet, fresh pico de gallo
Add quinoa and water in pot and bring to boil. Cover and reduce to simmer for about 15 minutes (you’ll be surprised how dry it gets, but that’s how it’s supposed to be). Meanwhile, prep all the other ingredients. Once the quinoa is done, toss together and you’re done. This salad would be perfectly good warm or room temperature, but I wanted mine a little colder. So I popped that quinoa salad in the freezer for about 15 minutes (I could have waited longer, but I was too hungry.) I doubt it really made that much of a difference, but the very act of putting it in and taking it out of the freezer tricked me into thinking I was eating a cold salad (mind over matter!).
Adding the black beans makes this salad very filling, so there's really no need to go beyond a single bowl and spoon (that's right, I ate my salad with a spoon. Is that weird? Maybe I would have opted for the spork, but no such utensil could be found in the clatter kitchen). Now if only I hadn’t ruined my perfectly healthy meal by gorging myself afterwards with Whoppers robin eggs and Starburst jelly beans… Damn Easter candy. Gets me every time.
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