Cooking For Others: The Naked Cook

salad ready to go, my outfit not so much

EVENT: Eating avec A/C
VENUE: Phoebe’s Apartment, Flatiron
PARTY SIZE: 5
TYPE: Casual Summertime Dinner
MENU: Squash Chips with Balsamic and Basil Drizzle; Panzanella Salad with Lemon-Basil Vinaigrette; Lemon-Garlic Roasted Chicken Breasts; Iced Basil Green Tea

A few times over the course of the last few weeks, as New York City humidity has neared 100%, I’ve found myself slaving over my small kitchen’s open flame in nothing but a tank top and underwear. This sounds attractive in theory, and perhaps if it was an apron alone, there would have at least been something classically erotic about my situation. But I assure you, there is nothing less appealing than splattering oil on bare, white legs as you sweat not just the heat but also guests who are moments away, and you debate whether or not it’s better to put on some shorts or burn the chicken.

Even as a practiced weeknight entertainer, the lack of control over life, schedule, and happiness that comes with a full time job, often leaves me, well, late. Thus was the case a few Wednesdays ago when I found myself, shopping bags in hand, racing up my three-floor walk-up, throwing a pot of water on to boil, and peeling off all of my clothes for fear of fainting into the flame.

Summer had a way of creeping up on us slowly this year, and it wasn’t until this past week that I began factoring the heat of preparation into my menus. Usually when it's warm, if I’m cooking for just myself or a girlfriend or two, I’ll whip up a quick salad and call it a meal. But with a coffee table full of guests—guys and gals alike—it feels like kind of a poor excuse for dinner to just serve up a variety of tossed raw veggies, no matter how interesting or delicious. My solution: panzanella.

Making a salad out of carbs is an easy way to convince bigger eaters (cough cough, men) that their side dish is not a salad at all. This particular version was packed with farmers' market-fresh tomatoes and cucumbers. More refreshing yet, I was able to toast the bread in the oven at the same time as my chicken cooked, minimizing the active work over the fire and the time my apartment would also be roasting. I let both come down to room temperature, giving me time to cool off with some of Caitlyn’s Iced Basil Green Tea, open a window, and put on some clothes.

From my kitchen, where salads get dressed even when I don't, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

*(Neurotic Post Script, from Cara: I still bear a scar on my right thigh from draining/spilling a pot of pasta water while wearing only a bikini, circa 2003. Be careful when cooking less than fully dressed!)

**Recipes**

Panzanella Salad with Lemon-Basil Vinaigrette
Makes 4-6 servings

Ingredients
1 large loaf ciabatta or other rustic Italian bread, sliced
2 small cucumbers, halved, and sliced
2 large plum tomatoes, seeded and chopped (or you can use cherry)
1/2 lb buffalo mozzarella or buccacini, roughly torn into pieces
1 cup basil leaves, roughly torn
salt to taste

For the vinaigrette:

Double this recipe.

Preheat the oven to broil.

In a food processor, combine all ingredients for the vinaigrette. Pulse to combine.

In a medium mixing bowl, toss together the cucumbers, tomatoes, and mozzarella with the vinaigrette. Set aside.

Slice the bread into large rustic pieces. Lay them flat on a rimmed baking sheet and brush each slice with olive oil. Place on the top rack in the oven and toast until dark brown, but not burned.

Allow the bread to cool enough to handle. Cut into 1 inch pieces. Add the bread and basil to the bowl and toss together with the rest of the salad mixture.

Serve immediately along side the chicken.

Lemon-Garlic Roasted Chicken Breasts
Makes 4 Servings
Ingredients

4 large chicken breasts, bone-in skin on
Zest of 1 lemon
1 tbsp lemon juice
3 tbsp butter, room temperature
1 garlic clove, pushed through a press
1 tsp salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a small bowl, combine the zest, lemon juice, butter, garlic, and salt and whip together.

With clean hands, rub the butter mixture underneath the chicken’s skin so there is a thin layer. Repeat with each breast. Leftover butter can be reserved for another use.

Coat a over proof skillet with a thin layer of oil and brown the chicken over medium-high heat, starting with the skin-side down. Once both sides have been browned, place the chicken in the oven and cook until the breasts are cooked through, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Allow chicken to rest for another ten minutes or so under a sheet of foil. Serve warm or room temperature to allow you and your guests to cool.

Read more...

Recipe Flash: Mediterranean Vegetable Hash

Last week, I went on an interesting date. The guy, who’s been through culinary school in France, came over to cook me dinner in my kitchen. The interesting part: He asked me to pick up an array of ingredients and then stand aside while he improvised a meal around them (much more on this soon). The fallout from this guest appearance was a small kitchen covered in dirty dishes that would take days to tackle and a refrigerator full of random excess ingredients, namely vegetables, that had fallen to the wayside in favor of French simplicity.

This hash was the concoction I made the following night with those unused veggies. I ate it alone while watching Top Chef Masters and reflecting on the meal, and on my strange, quick-fire challenge first date.

The combination of different vegetables and textures worked surprisingly well together, though perhaps, this was not so surprising, as it was the dish I had envisioned for my chef all along. Had he simply caved to the culinary pressures of the smirking blonde seated in the corner, judging him all the while, this lemon-mint hash might have had a perfectly cooked piece of lamb to go with.

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Mediterranean Vegetable Hash
Makes 2-4 servings

Ingredients

½ lb yellow potatoes, diced ¼ inch thick
1 shallot, sliced
½ lb zucchini (2 small-medium), quartered and sliced ¼ inch thick
½ pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
½ cup peas, defrosted if frozen
2 tbsp finely chopped mint
1 1/2 tbsp lemon juice (about ½ lemon)

Coat a large skillet with olive oil and set it over a medium-high flame. Saute the potatoes, stirring occasionally so they are able to properly brown. Once the potatoes are beginning to become brown and tender, add the shallot. Continue to sauté until the potatoes are golden brown and cooked though, and the shallot has completely caramelized. Remove the potatoes to a bowl and cover with foil.

Sauté the zucchini, adding a little additional oil if the pieces are sticking to the bottom of the pan. When the zucchini is brown and almost cooked through, add the tomatoes and continue to sauté until slightly browned.
Return the potatoes to the pan along with the peas. Cook mixture until the potatoes and peas are piping hot and cooked through.

Off the heat, add the lemon juice and mint and toss to combine. Serve alongside a grilled piece of lamb, or as is for a satisfying weeknight meal for one.
Read more...

Cooking For One: Veggie Bounty

DISH: String Beans a la Marc; Parlsey Zucchini; Sweet and Sour Cabbage Salad
TYPE: Summer's Offering Lunch
MAIN INGREDIENTS: Vegetables

I've always loved the lunch buffet at City Bakery, on 18th Street, for the sheer vegetabley-ness of its offering. At any given lunch hour, you can heap creative, market-fresh salads, sautés, and greens onto your plate to your heart's—and your diet's—content. Sure, it's overpriced, but it's incredibly convenient, and keeping so many different vegetables in so many different preparations in your own fridge would be a giant pain.

Or would it?

I've been finding that if I buy relatively small quantities of a variety of veggies at summer's overflowing farmers' markets and farmstands, and then cook each into its own particular dish, stored in its very own tupperware container, by the end of the week all the containers are empty and I feel like I've eaten a buffet-worthy assortment of foods. I find it more satisfying, when cooking for just myself, than making one huge pot of something and eating it ad nauseum (not literally) for an entire week.

When venturing to create a satisfying vegetable "buffet" at home, there are really only a couple of guidelines to follow:

•Don't buy too much of any given vegetable. This will prevent you from overdosing and from boredom.

•Vary the texture of the preparations. Make slow-cooked string beans and long-simmered cabbage. Make some dishes that are best hot and have others room temp or cold.

•Mix and match! Have a little bit of string beans, a little bit of cabbage salad, and then a little more of the string beans. Add some bread and maybe a little cheese, and you've got a meal.

•Limit each dish to a couple of veggies—no more. While hodgepodge vegetable stews are certainly delicious, it's more exciting to pick and choose from several containers of simpler dishes.

•Remember your veggie buffet when you're trying to think of side dishes to complement another you're making for yourself or for others. They're especially good to round out a small portion of something kind of heavy, like a grilled cheese sandwich.

Anyway, below are the three creations I came up with last week. Who knows what'll transpire with my next vegtable purchase?

From my kitchen, where the buffet is personalized, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

String Beans a la Marc
Makes 3 servings

Recently, my friend Marc was gleefully telling me about his favorite simple dinner: freshly cooked pasta tossed with minced garlic, salt, pepper, Parmesan cheese, olive oil, and butter. The key, he said, was using both the butter and the olive oil. While he was talking, I could almost taste the deliciousness of the two fats. The next day, instead of pasta, I tossed my string beans in just this combination.

Ingredients
1/2 pound green beans
2 cloves garlic, pressed*
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 teaspoon butter
scant 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

*if you don't have a garlic press (like me), mince the cloves of garlic very finely. Sprinkle about 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt over the minced garlic and go at it again with your knife, using the salt's grittiness to really break up the pieces.

Bring a large pot of water to the boil. Trim the vine end off the string beans, or trim both if you prefer them like that. Add 2 teaspoons of salt to the water, then add the string beans. Boil for about 6 minutes, until the beans have lost their raw taste but are still firm. Drain.

Immediately toss with the butter, olive oil, garlic, pepper, and Parm. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Parsley Zucchini
Serves 3

Ingredients
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 large clove garlic, chopped
3 medium-sized zucchini
1/2 cup of parsley, finely diced
1 teaspoon butter
salt to taste
hot pepper

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until the garlic softens and turns slightly brown. Add the zucchini, raise the heat, and stir fry until the zucchini have wilted. Sprinkle with salt and hot pepper, add the parsley and butter, and serve. This is great eaten hot right away, but it's also good straight from the fridge.

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Salad
Serves 3

Ingredients
1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
1/2 cup water
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 small red onion, diced
1/2 large cabbage, shredded
2 tablespoons sugar
1 cucumber, cut into thin half moons

Combine the vinegar, water, and salt in a small saucepan with a tightly fitted lid. Add the onion and cover. When you can see steam coming out through the lid, 2-3 minutes, add the cabbage, stir to mix, put the cover back on, and lower the heat to a simmer. Cook for 15 minutes, until the cabbage is quite tender. Stir in the sugar and cook for another 5 minutes.

Off the heat, mix in the cucumber slices. Cool to room temperature, then refridgerate until ready to eat.

Read more...

Potluck Parties: Parkside Picnic Dinner

EVENT: Our Beloved Neighborhood Green Space Returns
VENUE: Washington Square Park
PARTY SIZE: 6
TYPE: Potluck Picnic Dinner
MENU: Pomodoro Fresco Pasta Salad; Zucchini Quinoa Salad (Sophie); Fussili with Chipotle Mexican Meatballs (Steph); Baguette and Cheese (Keith); Ben and Jerry’s on Ice (Ed)

Come summertime in New York, when you don’t have the luxury of sitting back on your white porch and watching the traffic go by, and your rental does not come with a terrace or roof deck on which to plant an illegal gas grill, the natural solution is to take your intimate, at-home dinner public. That is, to the park.

Those of us who live in the greater NYU area have been without suitable green space for some time now. While there are playgrounds a plenty, and Union Square is just around the corner, neither are places you really want lay your towel down for fear of cooties or pummelling by a wayward farmers' market vegetable. So when the redone Washington Square Park opened its doors once again to 80-year-old Chess players, college acapella singers, and weirdos from across the West Village, my friend Sophie suggested a neighborhood picnic to those of us who just might just fall into the latter population.

Wednesday evening we gathered on a large blanket and took in the new scenery. The park renovation was worth the wait, and though the vibe had lost a little of its historical grit, it was still a worthy location to sip wine, listen to bongo drums, and cringe at the occasional pedestrian taking a full fledged dip in the fountain.

In addition to the screw-top wine (courtesy of Rodrigo), Keith graced the picnic blanket with the requisite selection of bread and cheese, while we ladies provided a trio of easily portable carb-based salads which we served on paper plates using a small garden trowel from Sophie’s apartment. It was an eclectic offering in the best sense: Sophie’s quinoa was pilfered from a weekend visit to her parents' house; Steph’s Chipotle Mexican meatballs were no longer balls by the time she reached Sophie’s, causing some last minute improvisation, and one very delicious smoky pasta sauce; my pasta was also a product of my mother’s kitchen, carrying with it plenty of summertime nostalgia from nights in a city park not too far uptown.

For dessert, Ed brought two varieties of Ben and Jerry’s (on a block of ice). It was a bold move given the 90 degree weather, but the black raspberry chocolate managed to hold its swirl long enough for us to be suitably refreshed without the comfort of indoor A/C or a trip in the fountain.

From my kitchen, where park-side dinners refresh the New York City soul, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

Pomodoro Fresco Pasta Salad
Makes 4-6 servings

Ingredients
1¾ lbs plum tomatoes (about 4 large), finely diced
2 cloves garlic, pushed through a press
1 tsp salt
½ tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp white sugar
½ tsp red pepper flakes
1 cup basil leaves, chopped
1lb penne rigate

In a medium mixing bowl, combine the first 6 ingredients. Allow to sit for up to an hour so the tomatoes have time to marinate and absorb all the added flavor.

NOTE: this can be done up to a day in advance.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil over high heat. Cook the pasta according to package direction until al dente. Drain and add to the bowl with the tomato mixture.

Toss the hot pasta with the tomatoes and chopped basil.

Best if served room temperature. Preferably, on a picnic blanket.


Read more...

Cooking For Others: A Real Flexitarian

VENUE: Cara's apartment, Park Slope
PARTY SIZE: 2
MENU: Red Wine-Braised Lentils with (Veggie) Sausage; Steamed Spinach; Whole Wheat Toast

There are dinner parties when it seems like every single person in attendance requires a different meal. As a vegetarian, more or less, I know well the shameful sense of appearing to be a picky eater, when, in fact, vegetarianism is not exactly that. I do my best to keep it separate from childish pickiness, which I depict as liking to eat only things like vanilla ice cream, skinless chicken breast, and spaghetti with butter. It's more of a pointed preference, like preferring the ocean to a lake or the Q train to the R.

When I'm cooking for non-vegetarians, even people who claim they don't mind partaking of the occasional veggie-centric dinner, I sometimes fear they see things a bit differently. I can be self-conscious then about what I choose to serve. I want to make sure they're satisfied and happy, and I often wind up relying on cheese as something comparably fattening to the richest of sausages and the reddest of meats. Occasionally I'll even punctuate my meal with a coldcut, like the ham I threw on these biscuit sandwiches. It's all fine and dandy—really—but it can be a little heartbreaking to, say, prepare a brilliant new tofu recipe and then be hard-pressed to think of someone to invite over to enjoy it with. (Thank god, in this respect and others, for the veggie-centrism of Mag Club.)

Alex, the guest for the meal at hand, is, perhaps unusually, a bona-fide flexitarian. Not in a trendy way, and not in a meticulous way, but when I started dating him a month or two ago, I was thrilled to learn, over sushi, that while he doesn't turn down meat, if left on his own he aims to eat simple food, veggies and grains and some fish. In other words, food that falls under the heading of Stuff Cara Eats.

So I've watched him eat rare steak and been ever so slightly disappointed by the fact that he won't partake of cheese or cookies. But when it comes down to the wire, it's nice to know that at a table laden only with pasta primavera, quinoa pilaf, or braised lentils, he won't miss the meat.

He might, however, miss the fake meat, and in fact, he is responsible for introducing me to Field Roast's veggie sausages (made from wheat gluten, mainly). I tried a slice once, from a dish he had leftovers of, and I was pretty impressed by the sheer tastiness of it all. With careful instructions from him to buy only the Italian or the Apple flavors, I purchased my own package of links and decided to imitate for him Phoebe's Merguez Sausage and Lentils. I had once scoffed at the idea that it would even be worth trying a veggie substitue for the sausages in this dish. But now I was ready to make my own vegetarian rendition, only stove-top (it was hot out) and braised in red wine.

The result was a quick and easy dish, much of which could be made in advance so I didn't have to sweat by the stove in front of my date. It oozed flavor and richness and provided an excellent bed for an inspiring fake-meat product.

One last note: Alex is a photographer and a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to his craft. That explains why these pictures are particularly well focused, colored, and framed, and also why the lentils were bordering on tepid by the time I convinced him to sit down, fill his plate, and eat.

From my kitchen, a vegetarian mecca—meatless meats and all—to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

Red Wine-Braised Lentils with (Veggie) Sausage

Serves 3-4

If you're not convinced by my ode to Field Roast or my comparison of vegetarianism and subway train lines, I am sure you could make this with your favorite real-meat sausage.

Ingredients

1 cup dried black lentils (don't use red lentils)
3 garlic cloves, 2 minced, 1 chopped roughly into thirds

1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons olive oil

1 veggie sausage, preferably Field Roast Italian, cut into thin half moons
1 small onion, diced

1 carrot, diced
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
dash cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 cup red wine

Pick over the lentils for any bad ones, then rinse them in a couple changes of water. Put them in a small pot with about 2 cups of water, 1 teaspoon of olive oil, and the garlic that is roughly chopped. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then simmer, partially covered, for 25-30 minutes until the lentils are soft but not at all mushy. Drain any excess water. If you're doing this ahead of time, refrigerate the lentils; otherwise, set them aside.

Meanwhile, heat 2 teaspoons of oil in a large, cast-iron skillet. Add the sausage and let the pieces brown and crisp. Remove to a plate and set aside. Add another teaspoon of oil to the pan, then put in the onions, sauté a few minutes, then add the carrots and the minced garlic. When everything is soft, throw in the spices and salt, cook for a minute, and put in the lentils. Cover in red wine and bring to a simmer. When the liquid is nearly completely reduced, 5-10 minutes, add the sausage back in. Simmer another few minutes until the liquid is evaporated, taste for seasonings, and sprinkle with the remaining teaspoon of olive oil.

Serve with toasted slices of fresh whole wheat bread, with simple steamed spinach or broccoli on the side.

Read more...

Recipe Flash: Lemony Rice Salad with Cherry Tomatoes, Almonds, and Herbs

When I was little and had the flu, there were a few easy comfort specials I would have my mother dish up to accompany my day of "Price is Right" and dramatic suffering: strawberry Jello, garlic soup, and white rice with lemon. These days, whenever I taste a bright, lemony rice dish it always takes me back a little to the thrill of no homework and daytime television. On vacation a few weeks ago, there was a lot of the latter and, lucky for me, my mother and I made enough of this rice salad (which sat beside my salmon burgers at dinner one night) to accompany a long, drawn-out recovery—not from any particular illness, just from the trials of quarter life.

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Lemony Rice Salad with Cherry Tomatoes, Almonds, and Herbs

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

1 cup basmati rice (or any long grain white rice)
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small shallot, minced
¼ cup parsley leaves, roughly chopped
1/3 cup mint leaves, roughly chopped
1/2 cup toasted almonds, roughly chopped
2 tsp white vinegar
1 lemon, zested and juiced
3 tbsp olive oil
salt to taste

In a medium stock pot, bring 2 cups of salted water to boil. Add the rice, turn the heat to low, cover and cook until all the liquid has absorbed and the rice is cooked through, about 20-25 minutes. Using a fork, fluff the rice and allow to cool slightly.

In a medium mixing bowl, or in the rice pot (as shown below), combine the remaining ingredients and taste for seasoning. Serve warm or at room temperature as a refreshing, yet filling summer side.



Read more...

Big Girls, Test Kitchen: Summer Squash

DISHES: Squash Chips with Basil and Balsamic Drizzle; Patty-pan Squash Sauté
MAIN INGREDIENTS: Squash, Basil

When squash season comes around the bend, it truly feels like summer. I end up coming home to my kitchen with baskets full of all types of varieties. But when it comes to actually cooking them, I never really want to do much at all. When the ingredients are beautiful, as is always the case with any farmer’s market variety of yellow squash come July, I usually just prepare a very simple dish with olive oil, a hit of lemon or vinegar, good salt, and a fresh herb, torn or chopped rustically, to give a brightness to the dish.

Below are two recipes (or preparations, rather) that I’ve used for my summer squash so far this season. Roasting makes the squash slightly crispy, dense, and intensely squash flavored. Sauteeing them gives them a delicious silkiness. You can use any herb you want, but I always find that basil screams summer like no other.

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

Squash Chips with Basil and Balsamic Drizzle
Makes 2 appetizer or side servings

Ingredients

2 medium squash, thinly sliced (on a mandolin or by hand)
olive oil
coarse sea salt
balsamic
handful basil, torn

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Arrange the thinly sliced squash on a baking sheet. Season with salt, drizzle with olive oil, and toss together so all the pieces are evenly coated. Spread as evenly as possible (there will be some overlap) and place in the oven.

Bake until golden brown and crispy, about 20 to 30 minutes.

Arrange on a plate and season with coarse salt. Using your thumb over the bottle top, drizzle a little balsamic over the chips, and garnish with some torn fresh basil.

Serve as finger food with toothpicks or as a side dish.

Patty-Pan Squash Sauté
Makes 3-4 servings

Ingredients

2 lbs Patty pan squash, scrubbed until clean, and cut into thick slices
1 Vidalia onion, thinly sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
salt
½ cup basil leaves, chopped

In a large Dutch oven or sauté pan with a lid, heat the olive oil over a medium flame. Sauté the onion until translucent. Add the squash, season it with salt, and continue to cook, covered, stirring occasionally, until it begins to soften.

When the squash is nearly done (soft, but not falling apart), add the basil and stir to combine. Taste for seasoning, and serve warm.


Read more...

Big Girls, Test Kitchen: Cooked Salsa

I had a small, daytime housewarming party late last October, when I was finally settled into my new apartment. I served a breakfast burrito buffet, which always goes over fabulously well. Since everything but scrambling the eggs and heating the beans and tortillas can be done so far in advance, I decided that I'd use every last resource in my new, tiny kitchen the morning of the party. It was fun to make unexpected aspects of the meal from scratch, and I had time to clean up before everyone arrived.

I'm pretty sure that I found a cooked salsa recipe in one of the beloved Moosewood cookbooks originally. I may have even followed it for that burrito buffet housewarming brunch. It's nearly the same ingredients as a classic tomato sauce made from canned tomatoes, but you use cilantro instead of basil, and instead of carefully caramelizing the onions and garlic to a toasted golden brown, you basically stir fry them, so they maintain their crunch in the finished salsa.

In the photo above, you can see the batch I made for a dinner fajita buffet—we grilled chicken and striped bass, but otherwise the components were the same as for breakfast. This time, however, the seamless advance preparation almost turned to disaster. I knew I was going to have to make the salsa in two steps, since we hadn't yet made the supermarket run for cilantro, lime, and chiles. But then I slightly over-softened the onions and mistakenly opened cans of tomatoes that were already flavored with basil. When I tried the salsa it tasted like tomato sauce.

After going to the supermarket though, I minced lots more garlic, toasted several jalepenos, chopped up an entire bunch of cilantro, squeezed the juice out of three limes, and my Italian pasta sauce became a (cooked) Mexican condiment. It was a peculiar moment in taste transformation, but it made me realize just how experimental you can get. The size and flavor of your tomatoes and your hot peppers matter a lot; how long you cook and cool the salsa for matters too. Then there's the concept of adding fruit, beans, or corn. Start thinking about other fresh herbs, and you're on your way to salsa infinity.

From my kitchen, brewing up spicy condiments, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Homemade Cooked Salsa

Makes 5 cups

2 teaspoons vegetable oil

1 small onion, very finely diced

4 cloves garlic

1 bunch cilantro, minced

2 jalepenos, green parts finely diced, a few seeds added (depending on your view of spice)

2 28-ounce cans of diced or crushed tomatoes

juice from 3 limes

In a large saucepan heat the oil over medium-high heat. When the pan is quite hot, toss in the onions. Stirfy for a minute or two, then add the garlic and jalepeno and stirfy a minute or two more. Everything should have become slightly more translucent but should by no means be cooked through. Add half the cilantro, let it wilt, then add the tomatoes. Bring the whole thing to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes. Add the lime juice, taste for salt, and let cool to room temperature. Refrigerate for 1-2 hours, until chilled. The salsa will keep 1-2 weeks in an airtight container in the fridge if you don't eat it all, straight from the spoon, before them.

Read more...

Recipe Flash: Asian Salmon Burgers with Grilled Scallions

Asian Salmon Burgers with Grilled Scallions
Makes 3 burgers

The idea for these Asian-influenced salmon burgers came to me when I was thinking of what to do with a leftover knob of ginger. I had never made fish based burgers before, and I was a little wary of my audience--when opting for a home cooked meal my parents don't usually eat Asian or burgers--but decided I could rely on unconditional love to make this meal a success. After both plates were clean (even my mom's), my parents asked if I would make the salmon burgers again the next time I cooked. Success indeed.

Ingredients
1 lb skinless salmon fllet
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp mayonnaise
1 tbsp finely chopped peeled fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, pushed through a press
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp cilantro
salt
dash cayenne

1 bunch scallions, trimmed
olive oil

Whisk together the mustard, mayonnaise, ginger, garlic, lemon juice, and cilantro. Season with salt and a pinch of cayenne. Taste for seasoning, and add more heat if necessary.

Finely chop the salmon filet. Toss together with the mustard mixture and form into four even patties, making sure to pack the rounds together as tight as possible.

Place burgers on a plate, cover with plastic wrap, and chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour, and up to six.

NOTE: you can make the sauce the night before, but don’t add the fish until the day of. The acid in the lemon juice will cure the salmon like a ceviche if combined for a long period of time.

Heat a nonstick skillet over a high flame and coat the bottom with a thin layer of olive oil. When the pan is very hot, add the salmon burgers. Cook the burgers until brown and crispy on both sides. Make sure not to flip the burgers too early—they are fragile and need to be nearly cooked through on the first side in order to turn without breaking.


In the meantime, heat a grill pan over high heat. Drizzle a little olive oil on a large plate and roll the scallions around until they are coated with oil. When the pan is hot, add the scallions. Rotate as necessary until the green stalks have wilted and the white stems have beautiful dark brown grill marks.

Serve the burgers, with or without toasted buns, and pile the grilled scallions on top.

Read more...

Cooking For Others: Celebrating Sarah

birthday campfire: we sang "happy birthday" instead of "kumba-ya"

EVENT: Sarah's Birthday

VENUE: Sarah's Parents' House

PARTY SIZE: 25

TYPE: Mellow, with a hint of over-the-top

CARA'S CONTRIBUTION: Appetizer Tray Extraordinaire

Sometimes, when people with approaching birthdays say, "Nah, I don't want a party," they mean it. But usually they don't. Our friend Sarah was turning 24 on the 24th, and though she kept claiming she wanted to keep things mellow, the"small party at her parents' beach house" quickly devolved into a the-more-the-merrier, all-night Memorial Day event. There were fireworks on the beach and later a bonfire, 20 enormous Levain cookies in addition to a cake, and 25 guests who just happened to have been milling about the neighborhood.

Though Sarah may have been in denial about her deep-seated desire to celebrate her golden birthday (dorky, yes: 24 on the 24th...), she is not a space cadet, and she quickly realized that to feed all 25 of her family and friends, she'd need to be spectacularly organized.

To that end, her brother Daniel got put in charge of the meat, her father took care of the seafood and her mother the pastas, Sarah herself was on tofu duty, and I volunteered to bring over an appetizer tray.

above, Sarah's brother Daniel with meat and girls; below, Sarah's tofu

The Sunday of Memorial Day—unlike the clear, fireworks-friendly night that followed it—was somewhat gray. I alternated sleeping and reading all morning, but then sometime after lunch it occured to me that I'd prefer cooking all afternoon to doing pretty much anything else. So I embarked on an hors d'oeuvres platter to end all hors d'oeuvres platters, because, well, why not? If Sarah was going overboard, I might as well too.

From my kitchen, where a birthday always means a party, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

Half the tray was made up of various experiments in phyllo dough; on that, more soon. The homemade crackers are the recipes I've given below, and they're really a great stock hors d'oeurves to be able to make. For one, they satisfy the baking urge without producing a dessert, and for another they appear to have required that extra effort that makes people exclaim that they can't believe you made them by hand. Each recipe makes about 24 crackers.


Two Pepper Olive Oil Crackers
Ingredients
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3/4 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/3 cup olive oil
1/2 egg, beaten


Parmesan Sesame Crackers
Ingredients
1 cup all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons sesame seeds
1/2 cup grated parmesan
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter
1/2 egg, beaten

For both crackers, combine all the dry ingredients in a small bowl and mix well. Add the fat—using your fingers to mix in the butter if you're making the Parmesan Sesame Crackrers. Finally, stir in the egg.

Roll the dough into a log about 12 inches long. Wrap well in plastic wrap or foil and refrigerate until firm, at least one hour.

When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 375°F. Slice the cookies about 1/4 inch thick and arrange them on baking sheets. Bake until golden around the edges, 10-12 minutes. Serve alone, with cheese, hummus, or other dips.




Read more...

Cooking For Others: A Weekend's Worth of Food

EVENT: Weekend in the Hudson Valley

VENUE: Barbara and Peter's (Kate's Parents') House

PARTY SIZE: 9

MENU: Grilled Steak; Linguine Primavera; Greens with Dried Tomatoes and Roasted Chickpeas; Berry Yogurt; Muffins for the Morning After

(You'll have to forgive the slightly lesser quality of these pictures. There was so much going on at Kate's, two weekends ago, that we couldn't quite be bothered to pose the food as perfectly as usual.)

Kate's parents have a house up the Hudson in New York, and since they were spending a weekend not on vacation there, Kate and her brother invited us up. A group of nine wide-eyed, country-bound city folk, Kate made sure we were as entertained as campers. Waterskiing, card games, long walks, runs, bike rides, and a tennis tournament counted among the planned activites. Among the unplanned: getting hopelessly lost on the way back from waterskiing, taking a random two-hour nap on Saturday afternoon (that would be me), and having to feed partially cooked DiGiorno frozen pizza to a certain pair who had managed, on the train, to swill all three of the bottles of wine they were bringing to Kate as a gift.

Anyway, after all that activity, we obviously grew hungry. Kate's mom, Barb, is an awesome cook (and her kitchen is huge and well-stocked dream), so there was a lot to live up to. A few farmstand runs were supplemented with a supermarket excursion on Saturday around 7pm, which, of course, all nine of us felt compelled to go on. And then we dished out the cooking tasks, so everyone had their hand in making the meal, or at least setting the table—and then everyone also got to bask in the glory of an excellent, al-fresco feast.

As for the muffins, which I made on my own early Sunday morning—well, it was a team effort to eat them!

From my kitchen, where dinner is a team effort, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipes**

Linguine Primavera

Serves 8 as a side dish

You can make this dish with pretty much any veggies you have on hand. I like what the roasting does for the broccoli and asparagus, but you can add them to the sauté if you don't feel like turning on the oven. Keep in the leafy greens—spinach and arugala—if you can...they're really good with the pasta.

Ingredients

1 pound linguine

1/4 cup olive oil

1 onion, chopped

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 teaspoon salt

pinch hot pepper

1 carrot, diced

1 bunch asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces

1 small head broccoli, trimmed and cut into small florets

1 large bunch baby spinach

1 large bunch arugala

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Toss the asparagus and broccoli with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and roast for 30 minutes, until cooked through and brown. Sprinkle with salt.

Meanwhile, sauté the onions and garlic in 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pan over low heat. When soft, add the carrot and the spices. The sauce can be made up to this point ahead of time.

When you're nearly ready to eat, bring a large pot of heavily salted water to the boil. Add the pasta and cook as instructed on the box. As the pasta is cooking, scoop out about 1 1/2 cups of water. Add 1/2 cup of pasta water to the sauteed veggies, along with the broccoli, asparagus, and greens, a minute or two before you drain the pasta.

Drain the linguine and add to the saucepan (if it fits—otherwise do this step in the serving bowl). Add more reserved pasta water if it seems dry, then add half the Parm, taste for salt, and serve. Offer the rest of the cheese on the side.

Greens with Dried Tomatoes and Roasted Chickpeas

Serves 9

This was a fairly intimidating part of the meal, since Nick, Kate's brother, runs the Midtown salad institution, Just Salad. Melissa, his girlfriend, took care of roasting the chickpeas, which gave everything a delightful crunch.

Ingredients

enough lettuce to fill a big salad bowl

1 can whole tomatoes

2 cans chickpeas

2 tablespoons olive oil

spice combination: 2 teaspoons cumin, 1 teaspoon coriander, 1/2 teaspoon salt, pinch of cayenne

1 teaspoon brown sugar

olive oil or vinaigrette, for dressing

Preheat the oven to 300°F. Drain the chickpeas really well and use paper towels or dish cloths to dry them completely. Toss with 1 tablespoon olive oil and the spice mix, then spread on a baking sheet. Toast for an hour or longer, until they're crisp, being careful not to burn.

At the same time, slice the tomatoes from the can into 1/4" pieces. Sprinkle with the other teaspoon of olive oil. Toast for about 1 1/2 hours, turning the pan and flipping the tomatoes if edges seem like they might burn. About halfway through sprinkle with the brown sugar.

Compose the salad by arranging the chickpeas and tomatoes on top of roasted greens. Make a vinaigrette, or simply dress with olive oil, vinegar, and salt.

Berry Yogurt

Serves 10

Kate took charge of the yogurt. It makes a great light dessert—and also holds its own as a late-night snack.

Ingredients

1/2 pound each frozen raspberries and blackberries
2 cups plain yogurt—low fat and nonfat are fine
1/2 cup sugar

Put all the ingredients in a food processor container along with a couple of tablespoons of water. Process until just pureed and creamy, stopping to scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. If the fruit does not break down completely, add a little more water through the feed tube, a tablespoon or two at a time, being careful not to over-process or the sorbet will liquefy.

Freeze for at least an hour or two, until firm. Serve topped with fresh berries.

Muffins for the Morning After

Makes 24 mini muffins

1 stick butter, melted

1 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

about 1 cup assorted fresh berries, pitted if necessary and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces if they are large*

*I used about 1/3 cup each of dark cherries, raspberries, and blackberries.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease a 24 cup mini-muffin pan very well.

Combine the melted butter with the sugar. Beat in the eggs and vanilla.

In a separate bowl, stir together the flour, salt, soda, and powder. Fold it into the wet ingredients using as few strokes as possible. When it's nearly combined, gently fold in the berries. Divide evenly among the muffin cups. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until the muffins have risen and are golden, and the top of a muffin bounces back when you press on it.

Read more...

Recipe Flash: Cold Pea Soup with Lemon, Basil, and Ginger

Cold Pea Soup with Lemon, Basil, and Ginger
Makes 2-3 Servings

I made this soup for the first time a few weeks ago after a long day of fried food and outdoor activity. I was ready to hunker down for a night home alone and, too tired to even lift a spoon to my mouth, was wishing there was some way to magically inject some green into my system. The soup was a delicious solution, but since it didn involve lifiting spoon to mouth, I was unable to fully appreciate it. The next afternoon I went to finish off the remaining bowl and, as I was about to put it in the microwave, I snuck a spoonful. The lemon, ginger, and herbs were so flavorful and refreshing cold, I ending up polishing off the remaining spoonfuls while standing in the kitchen. This makes a great summer soup served chilled, especially on a sunny afternoon.

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

Ingredients

2 large shallots, coarsely chopped
1 clove garlic, coarsely chopped
2 tbsp fresh, peeled ginger, coarsely chopped
10oz frozen peas
3/4 quart chicken stock (or veggie)
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp cayenne pepper
¼ cup coarsely chopped basil leaves (plus some extra for garnish)
½ lemon, juiced

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a stockpot over a medium-high flame. Sautee the shallots, garlic, and ginger until the translucent and fragrant. Add the peas and stock, season with salt and cayenne, and bring to a rolling boil. Simmer for 5 minutes, then turn off the heat, and add the basil.

Puree the soup in a food processor or blender. Taste for seasoning. Cool in the freezer or refrigerator. Before serving, add the lemon juice. If you add it too early, it will cause the basil to brown and your soup will look less appetizing, if just as delicious.

If serving to a fancier crowd, pass the soup through a strainer. If you puree well enough, this will be mostly unncessary.

Serve with a dollop of sour cream or crème fraiche mixed with a little basil.

Read more...

Potluck Parties: Mag Club Goes Small, Intimate

girls, not food

EVENT: Mag Club June
VENUE: Jordana's Apartment, West Village
PARTY SIZE: 5
TYPE: Potluck
MENU: Impromptu Bulgur Salad (Cara); Sweet Potato Quesadillas (Phoebe); Caprese Salad and Quinoa with Roasted Broccoli (Leora); Peanut Noodles with Eggplant from the Restaurant Downstairs (Jordana); Fruit Plate (Sarah)

We had a few tragic last-minute cancellations in June, and Mag Club's guest list was whittled down to five old friends: Phoebe, Jordana, Leora, Sarah, and me. It all might have seemed a little elegaic, or at least subdued, if it weren't for a couple of things.

First, Jordana had a brand-new, lime green couch. We'd been hearing about it for a while, but this was the first time I'd laid eyes on it, and it really is uplifting (if that's not a ridiculous thing to say).

Second, we had a plain old good time. The five of us have known each other since we were thirteen, and we literally are never at a loss of things to talk about. With a slightly smaller crowd, also, we could hear each other talk. Moreover, we acted surprisingly civilized: all five of us arrived on time, and we sat and nursed cocktails for a full ten minutes before we dove into the food. Among the topics of conversation were these reflections on the food:

-How the noodle place below Jor's apartment prepares the eggplant for their peanut noodles. It has kind of a sweet-and-sour thing going on, and it's cut into these thin strips and made chewy somehow. We made no progress on how the texture came about exactly.

-The fact that Leora brings Caprese Salad to every potluck she attends, but that this is actually legit, because it's something you can make without very much time or effort, a sort of half homemade and half store-bought dish.

-Why Sarah decided to bring vodka and a fruit plate to this potluck instead of the baked goods she often brings. (Answer: Though sometimes sugar does wonders for our systems, since I had mandated, by gchat, that I needed a healthy-ish mag club, and since Jor had warned, by email, that it had been a particularly frustating day at the office, we realized it was an occasion for straight-up cocktails, not sweets.)

-That Phoebe's quesadillas were a seriously hodgepodge affair. She had a couple different fillings left over from a finger-food party she had hosted the weekend before, and she mixed them together, added cheese, and presented us with quesadillas so good we didn't even want to top them with Green Mountain Gringo Salsa.

As is sometimes the case, we forgot to discuss our articles—the reason for the club's existence. But it was nice—like super nice—to sit on the floor at Jor's coffee table, feast, and forget about everything but friendship, gossip, and how best to season bulgur wheat.

From Jordana's kitchen, where coffee tables are ideal for small potlucks, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

Curried Sweet Potato Quesadillas
Filling makes 8-12

Ingredients

2 ½ lb sweet potatoes, quartered
1 tbsp curry powder (add more depending on how spicy)
½ lime, juiced
2 tbsp cilantro leaves, roughly chopped

1/2 cup black beans, drained
salt

Cayenne (optional, if your curry powder isn’t hot enough)
12oz shredded Monterey Jack cheese
8 tortillas, traditional or whole wheat

Preheat the oven to broil.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Cook the quartered potatoes until a knife easily slips in and out, about 20 minutes depending on the size of the pot. Place the cooked potatoes in a colander and run under cold water until cool enough to handle. Remove the skins and dice the cooked potatoes—the chunks should be fairly small, but no need to be uniform.

In a medium sized bowl, mix the potatoes together with the remaining ingredients. Taste for seasoning and add salt and spice (cayenne) as necessary. Gently stir in the blakc beans.

On a flat work surface, assemble each quesadilla one at a time: sprinkle a small handful of cheese on one side of the tortilla, spread a spoonful of potato mixture on top, and sprinkle with another small helping of cheese. Fold the tortilla in half and press down to make sure the quesadilla adheres. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Arrange the quesadillas on two cookie sheets. Place in the hot oven and broil until golden brown on the top and the cheese is melted through.

Impromptu Bulgur Salad

Serves 4
Ingredients

1/2 cup bulgur

2 teaspoons butter

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 small radishes, thinly sliced

1/2 carrot, grated

1/2 yellow pepper, roasted and cut into slivers*

3 dates, thinly sliced

1 spring onion or shallot, diced

2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

1/2 teaspoon dried coriander

pinch of cumin

*To roast a pepper: balance your pepper over a high flame on your gas stove. Char it on all sides. Enclose it in an airtight container, like a Tupperware, for 30 minutes (this is to steam it). Clean it under running water, peeling off the charred skin and disposing of the seeds and stem.

Submerge the bulgur in 1 cup of boiling water. Cover and set aside for 30 minutes, or until the water is absorbed. Stir in the butter and the salt.

When the bulgur has cooled to room temperature, add the vegetables, dates, and seasonings. Stir to combine. Defintiely make this a day ahead of time—it's at its best when the flavors have had a chance to meld.

Read more...

Big Girls, Test Kitchen: Summer Scallops

DISH: Seared Scallops with Tomatillo Guacamole and Corn Salsa
TYPE: Casual summertime dinner
MAIN INGREDIENTS: scallops, tomatillos, corn

Once summertime hits, the first thing I crave in the kitchen is a perfect, crisp pan-seared scallop. When I’m in charge of the meal in my parents' house, fresh sea scallops are the first thing I run to town to buy. Unfortunately, I don’t think they share the same zealousness for night after night of scallop variations. So I try to restrain myself and am left dreaming of the endless flavor possibilities, until the time comes to make my few experiments count.

I’ve kept my technique the same over the years, attempting to perfect the dark brown crust on each side of my scallops. But the sauces, salsas, and salads that accompany have run the gamut from sweet pureed peas with but a hint of mint to crispy pancetta with balsamic roasted tomatoes, and, my tried-and-true favorite, cumin corn salad with perfectly ripe heirloom tomatoes.

All winter I’ve been looking forward to the farm fresh produce that could better my summer scallop, but somehow indecision always strikes when faced with the dozens of wicker baskets overflowing with the long-awaited rewards.

This time around, inspiration struck thanks to an old collection of recipes.

A few weeks ago I spent the weekend on Shelter Island at my friend Ali’s house. In her mother’s study, the walls were lined with old Food and Wine magazines, and editions of Gourmet dating back to 1942. While the rest of the gang relaxed on the porch, I hunkered down on her living room sofa, fully embracing my food-nerd standing and indulged in a few issues from the late 90s. I’ve been on a bit of a Mexican kick lately, and it was when I came across a travel issue on the lesser-known provinces of Mexico that I found my scallops’ new friend.

Phoebe’s Summer Scallops, 2009 edition, are slathered with a bright version of guacamole that’s thinned by the addition of tomatillos and spiked by fresh jalapeños. This salsa verde is topped with a cherry tomato corn salsa similar to the old standby but improved by fresh cilantro which ties the whole summertime experiment together.

From my kitchen, where summertime scallops are searing, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Seared Scallops with Tomatillo Guacamole and Corn Salsa
Makes 3-4 servings

Ingredients

12 large scallops
cumin
salt
olive oil

For the Tomatillo Guacamole:

1 avocado, halved and pitted
1/2 pound tomatillos, husked and coarsely chopped
½ lime, juiced
1 garlic clove, coarsely chopped
1/2 small onion, coarsely chopped
½ - 1 jalapeño, seeded and coarsely chopped (to taste)
½ cup cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
½ tsp cumin
salt to taste

For the corn salsa:

3 ears corn, shucked
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
¼ cup cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
1 tsp white vinegar
½ tsp cumin
salt to taste

Bring a large pot of water to boil.

In the meantime, combine all ingredients for the guacamole in a food processor or blender and pulse until mixture is combined, but still fairly coarse. Set aside.

When the water is at a rolling boil, add the corn and blanch for one minutes, just until the color of the kernels have intensified and turned a brighter shade of yellow. Be careful not to over cook, these should only take a minute. Remove with tongs and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking. When cool, pat the cobs dry.

In the center of a large bowl, take one cob at a time, stand it upright and shave the kernels off with your knife. Be careful not to cut too deep, you don’t want the coarse center of the cob to come off with the corn. Repeat with the remaining cobs until all have been shaved. Toss together with the remaining ingredients for the salsa, and set aside.

NOTE: the salsa can be made the day before.

Rinse the scallops well, pat them dry, and season both sides well with cumin and salt on a large side plate.

Lightly coat the bottom of a large skillet with olive oil and set over high heat. When the pan is smoking hot, add the scallops, making sure not to crowd the pan. Allow the first side of the scallops to sear without moving them (3-5 minutes). When the bottom half has turned from opaque to white, and the bottom is a dark brown, flip the scallops and sear on the other side.
Cook the scallops until the insides are white and you feel some resistance when pushing down on the tops with your spatula.

Serve the scallops with a generous dollop of tomatillo guacamole and a spoonful of corn salsa on top. A light side salad rounds out this perfect summertime meal.

Read more...

Cooking For Others: Fish, Chips, and a Farewell

EVENT: Whitney’s Leaving For London
VENUE: Phoebe ‘s Apartment, Flatiron
PARTY SIZE: 6
TYPE: Weeknight Eat-Away-Our Sorrows Sob Fest
MENU: Baja Fish Tacos with Cilantro-Lime Crema; Mixed Greens with Creamy Mango Vinaigrette; Guacamole (Steph); Chips and Salsa (Dos Caminos, by way of Rodrigo)

This post marks my exit from a profound state of denial, and a newfound peace with life as I’ve known it since finishing off those last bites of fish taco back in May. Yes, it’s taken a few months for me to stomach Whitney’s departure. And it was with a heavy heart that we all gathered at my apartment that night for her farewell meal before she crossed the pond and left us for good.

I met Whitney about two years ago, just a few weeks after graduation, on a street corner outside Grey’s Papaya. It was about 3 in the morning, and still in college mode, I was hankering for a late night grease feast. After fully ensuring I would have a stomachache the following morning, I wandered over to join my then-boyfriend—and the pretty brunette he was talking to. Once jealousy had subsided, my first impression was of how polite and articulate this girl must be for having just spent 4 hours at Joshua Tree getting spilled on and pushed around by some of the worst people on earth. I asked her where she was from, and she said Kansas. A few minutes later I cursed and felt the immediate inclination to apologize.

There’s very little I can do to hide when I’m a total mess, so I felt I could learn a lot from this girl, who always appears to have it together. After two years, I’m no closer to knowing how to do this. But I am lucky enough to have found a great friend in her, a fellow Scorpio no less, to help me pick up the pieces when life does take those occasional nosedives. Now, with her coping with a move to London and a major life change, the tables have turned a bit, and I’ve gotten a small peak into Whitney’s life when things are just shy of tidy. And it was in those few weeks leading up to this meal, when her own vulnerability was left unhidden, that I truly learned what an amazing friend I had found on the corner, and what a mess my life would once again become when she left.

For a week we played out Whitney’s departure with epic style and gusto. The last night before her flight, though she had yet to finish packing (a mess, indeed), 6 of us came together for one last meal. To celebrate all great things to come (fried fish, pubs, and rainfall), and lament those small aspects of New York life she’d be leaving behind (Mexican takeout, weekend brunch, and us), I whipped up some Baja Fish Tacos as a last culinary hurrah. Steph made delicious garlicky guacamole, and her boyfriend, Rodrigo, who just happens to be Mexican too, stopped by Dos Caminos en route and managed to swindle 1 quart of New York’s finest salsa for free. Though the meal was a bittersweet one for all involved, I’m sure in the coming months Whitney will have her fair share of sunny days, Fish and Chips straight from the newspaper cone, and a few new friends to lend her a helping hand or, say, a napkin, when she starts to make a mess.

From my kitchen, where life is a little bit messier without the help of a friend, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

Whitney, looking sad, even though her outfit doesn't show it

Baja Fish Tacos with Cilantro-Lime Crema
Makes 4 servings



Ingredients

For the Fish:

1 lb mahi mahi, cut into strips
1 cup panko bread crumbs
1 egg, beaten
1 cup flour
Salt
Vegetable oil
2 cups cabbage, finely shredded (about ¼ head)
1 avocado, sliced
1 lime, cut into wedges
6 soft flour tortillas
Salsa (optional)
Hot sauce (optional)

NOTE: if the seafood counter doesn’t have fresh mahi mahi, you can use another flakey white fish like cod or tilapia.

For the Cilantro-Lime Crema:

1/2 lime, juiced
4 ounces sour cream
1 garlic clove, pushed through a press
1/4 tsp chili powder
¼ tsp cumin
2 tbsp cilantro, chopped
1 tbsp chives, chopped (optional)

Fill a deep skillet or dutch oven with about 1 ½ to 2 inches of vegetable oil and heat it over a high flame.

In a shallow bowl, whisk the egg together with a few tablespoons of water. Set aside two additional shallow bowls and fill one with the breadcrumbs, and the other with the flour. Dredge the fish strips, one at a time, in the flour, shaking off any excess. Pass the floured strips through the egg wash and then roll in the breadcrumbs until fully coated. Repeat with each strip.

Fry the breaded fish strips in the hot oil until a dark golden brown on both sides. Remove the fish and set aside on paper towels to drain.

In the meantime, wrap the tortillas in a tight packet of foil and place in a 300 degree oven until heated through, about 5 minutes.

Combine all ingredients for the crema in a food processor and blend until fully incorporated.



Arrange the crema, sliced avocado, lime wedges, shredded cabbage, and tortillas buffet style on a counter top. When the fish is no longer piping hot, set along side the condiments and allow guests to serve themselves.

Mixed Greens with Creamy Mango Vinaigrette
Makes 6 side servings



Ingredients

10oz mixed greens
½ mango, cut into 1 inch chunks
1 avocado, diced (optional)

For the dressing:

1/2 mango, peeled and cored
1 cup cilantro
½ cup sour cream
1 small shallot
½ tsp cumin
½ tsp chili powder
1 lime, juiced
¼ cup olive oil
salt to taste

In a small food processor, combine all ingredients for the dressing. Toss together with the greens and sliced avocado. Serve alongside the fish tacos.

Rodrigo, wearing his chipotles with pride

Read more...