Recipes

Chocolate-Covered Banana Pudding Pops

Posted by on Friday Aug 29th, 2014

Natalie of Good Girl Style is back today with a totally retro dessert, gone frozen, in what will perhaps be the only appearance of pudding mix on this blog for all eternity. Natalie joins us each month to share incredible desserts with Big Girls, Small Kitchen readers–desserts that are entirely gluten-free, but not like obviously gluten-free. That means no specialty flours or hard-to-find ingredients, just good old-fashioned butter, sugar, peanut butter, and chocolate. Don’t miss her recent summery posts, about Peanut Butter Buckeye Bars and Mixed Berry Frozen Lemonade.

The combo of chocolate and banana is a match made in heaven. One of my favorite snacks is chocolate chips and banana chips, but this time of year something cool and refreshing is in order. So I figured why not take my favorite snack and make it into a popsicle? These banana pudding pops are an easy and fun treat to whip together for a crowd. They’ll please young and old alike, especially because they’re dipped in chocolate. Adding the coconut oil adds a tiny bit of tropical flavor to the treat, but really it just makes sure the chocolate hardens nicely. The texture of a pudding pop is delightful, creamy and decadent but I like to think it’s at least a slightly healthy treat.

The recipe can be doubled or even tripled if you have enough popsicle molds. Don’t forget to buy the popsicle sticks! You can probably find the popsicle sticks at the grocery store, but I got mine at a good old-fashioned hardware store…you know the kind, the kind with everything and the kitchen sink (truly!). Unmolding the treats can be a bit of an art, but submerging the tray in a bowl of hot water or running them under hot water for a few minutes should do the trick. Be sure to give a nice tug on them to get the popsicle out in one piece. And give your freezer rungs a good scrub before resting the popsicles on them. But a freezer full of gorgeous chocolate-dipped banana pudding pops is a beautiful sight indeed!

Show me the chicken stew. I was famous growing up for my love of falling-apart chicken, and to this day I adore meat that has been cooked long enough to soak in the flavors of cacciatore, Morocco, coriander, and New Mexico.

Even white meat.

When I go to the butcher, I almost always choose chicken thighs, usually bone-in/skin-on. Yes, dark meat is more flavorful and harder to overcook. It’s also cheaper. Then I roast the thighs, or I make things like this stew, where you have to pick out the bones and skin as you eat, but I never mind that though I know some people do, which is why those people (maybe you?) search the internet for boneless skinless chicken breast recipes, and, in the process, say no to bones, skin, and dark meat. If we’re being 110% honest, sometimes I scoff at you guys (I’m really sorry!), but today I’ve made you a really lovely flavorful stew that’s ideally suited to right now: the end of summer, but not the end of tomato season, or eggplant season, or herbs-from-other-people’s-gardens season.

You know you’ve met a true carbohydrate lover when she craves not just warm bread, but warm bread with potatoes; not just a bowl of fluffy jasmine rice, but rice with chana bateta. Let’s take a minute to consider the real ingenuity of the burrito: it’s not in the guac nor the carnitas, but rather in the combination of tortilla and rice.

The latest edition of the Five-Ingredient Sandwich is cut from the same carby cloth. Slices of potatoes, tossed with oil and smoked paprika, pile up on soft foccacia to create a killer vegetarian sandwich. There’s arugula, mayo, and an egg as well.

The dual inspirations for this both come from Spain, and neither is in the double carb club. The first, a mountain of freshly fried potato chips with a spicy tomato sauce and a fried egg, was what my sister Kate and I subsisted on when we visited Madrid. We kept wanting to try new restaurants, but we kept returning to the one with the freshly fried potato chips, the spicy tomato sauce, and the egg.

The second, the Spanish omelet or tortilla espagnola, you probably know about. That, a bread-free meal-in-a-skillet will have long won you over if you’re a busy, new, poor, or space-challenged cook. My friend Marc has perfected the dish (his tip: use plenty of oil when frying the potatoes), but we’ve got an old BGSK recipe you can start with here.

How to Cook a Lobster Feast at Home

Posted by on Friday Aug 22nd, 2014

For many years of my life, every summer brought a trip to Maine. Beginning way back in 1992, when I visited my older sister, Jill, who was spending all summer at sleep-away camp (the all-girls, electricity-free enclave in Poland, Maine, where my mom had gone) and ending in 2010ish, when the last of my best-friends-forever camp buddies finally gave up their counselor positions to get “real jobs,” I made the drive, and occasionally, the flight, to the best state in the union. The cold mornings, calm lakes perfectly suited for waterskiing, and goofy camp antics are what comprise the bulk of my memories.

As for the food? Well, camp cuisine isn’t all that enticing, but every Wednesday we went out for homemade ice cream, and at the end of each summer, the camp treated us to an enormous lobster feast, and those two eating events were awesome enough to make up for the rest. Years when I wasn’t a camper bound to campus, we always made a point of heading off site, to Harraseeket, in Freeport, where we ordered lobster feasts: fries, corn, fried clams, and just-cooked local lobsters. We put on bibs, cracked the shells to reach the meat, and dipped every bite in drawn butter.

Imagine, then, what it’s like to be a person who adores Maine, who makes up for days of brown bag lunching by breaking the budget at Ed’s Lobster Bar on a regular Wednesday, and who has never cooked her own lobster. That’s a stretch, eh? But that’s me. Or, that was me.

That’s why it’s something of an epiphany to find out that lobsters are more affordable than they used to be, and that they can be shipped, live, across the country by FreshDirect, the sponsor of this post. (Check them out here. They’re hosting a Lobster Party and have launched the first-ever Lobster Hotline [1-844-4LOBSTA] to help answer your lobster prep questions, provide recipes, and tell lobster jokes.) To eat a really great lobster, it turns out, you don’t have to be on the coast of Maine. You can be in your kitchen in New York City or wherever. Only difference: you are now responsible for sticking a live Homarus lobster (that’s the substantial kind we get here on the East Coast in summer, with sweet meat and easy-to-crack shells, which FreshDirect sends straight from the Maine docks where they’re brought in) into boiling water. This, however, was nowhere near as frightening as I thought it would be. Water boiling, lobster in, lobster out, and done. I shuddered for maybe a second when I grabbed those poor doomed crustaceans, but I got over it long before I made a much more comfortable plunge, of sweet lobster tail meat into melted butter.

Which is all to say that the result–truly fresh lobsters paired with corn, salad, steamers, and butter–made for a jovial and kind of epic weeknight dinner that took me both back to childhood evenings in Maine and forward to new planes of seafood deliciousness.

This post is sponsored by FreshDirect, who provided lobsters and compensation. Check out their sale on Homarus lobsters from Maine, and don’t miss tips for prepping lobster and recipes from Chef Anne Burrell at freshdirect.com/lobsterparty – also, follow along with #FDLobsterParty. Rirst time customers can get $25 off a $75 with the code FDLobster.* Thanks for supporting the sponsors that keep Big Girls, Small Kitchen delicious!

There should be a single word for the anxiety you feel when you know your CSA or farmers’ market vegetables might go bad in their picturesque bowl on the counter before you get a chance to cook something delicious with them. There are two possible upshots of this feeling: one, that the vegetables do go bad, which stinks; and two, that you force yourself to cook everything up into some hodgepodge hash or curry that’s good but possibly not as off-the-charts good as that perfect eggplant/herbs/tomato would have been had you had the time to treat each vegetable like a star.

And then, when my sister’s neighbor dropped off so much fresh produce from his garden that she sent me a desperate text, and when my mother-in-law’s small garden yielded pounds of string beans just in the time we were visiting, from Saturday morning to Sunday afternoon, I realized that our urban what-do-I-do-with-this-produce anxiety (see, we need a single word), is a faint facsimile of what people with gardens or farms must experience.

If you’re a pro at this, let us know what you make to prevent any veggies from going to waste!

In the city, we choose to live on the edge, with respect to potentially rotting vegetables, by joining a CSA or allowing ourselves to overspend at the market. In the country, on the other hand, you might be the innocent victim of  a neighbor’s overzealous springtime planting.So I don’t come from a place of total vegetable-overload expertise. My apologies. Still, I can’t help but think that this soup, which turns a half dozen ears of corn into a delicate cream that you can ladle into your mouth, is an awesome solution to the problem of too much corn. Besides corn, there are just two ingredients in the soup, potatoes and Unsweetened Original Almond Breeze Almond Milk, both of which complement the corn with their sweetness and their substance. Add bacon on top and a chunk of buttered baguette on the side, and you’ve got a dinner so delicious I can promise you one thing: that you will never learn not to over-buy or over-plant. If this silky substance represents the untold third upshot of the the too-much-vegetable anxiety, I think the whole dance is worth it.

Mocha Layered Ice Cream Cake

Posted by on Friday Aug 15th, 2014

Natalie of Good Girl Style is back today with a beautiful dessert that requires nothing more than time and ice cream. The beauty (and tastiness) is in how they’re arranged. Natalie joins us each month to share incredible desserts with Big Girls, Small Kitchen readers–desserts that are entirely gluten-free, but not like obviously gluten-free. That means no specialty flours or hard-to-find ingredients, just good old-fashioned butter, sugar, peanut butter, ice cream, and coffee. Don’t miss her recent summery posts, about Coffee Granita and Easy Mango Sorbet with Coconut Cream.

In August we cling tightly to our beloved iced coffees, eschewing the hot brews until it’s downright cold outside. But when days are filled with back-to-school busy-ness and perhaps a chilly morning or two, we start to think of hot beverages again. That thought fades quickly, of course, when it’s nearly 90 degrees in the afternoon and we’re craving iced coffee again. What a cycle! A mocha layered ice cream cake is the perfect compromise for bringing these luxurious caffeinated flavors to life on a late-summer day.

The chocolate, coffee, and vanilla ice cream are reminiscent of a layered espresso-based mocha drink, and topped with whipped cream and chocolate-covered espresso beans, it is an indulgent treat. Use the best-quality ice cream you can afford. Since it’s the unequivocal star of this dessert, you can really taste the difference. Lining the pan with cling wrap makes removing the ice cream cake a snap. Dip your knife in hot water to keep the slices clean and serve immediately to minimize melting. Depending on the size of your loaf pan, you might not need all of the ice cream, but it’s better to have too much than too little! You know what to do with the leftovers.

Pizza Bianca with Anchovies & Kale

Posted by on Wednesday Aug 13th, 2014

If, as you go about becoming a better and better cook, you find yourself looking for ways to increase the satisfaction factor of salad dressings and sautéd greens, beef stews and olive tapenades, I bet you’ll become incrementally more obsessed with a tiny sliver that delivers unbelievable flavor: the anchovy. I am here to tell you that this is what has happened to me. Paired with this confession? A homemade pizza that appreciates anchovies as much as I do.

Please, don’t shirk away if the brilliance of the anchovy has yet to glare brightly at you, grabbing your culinary attention. By modifying the amount of anchovies here, you can use this recipe–a simple white pizza–as a gateway for wannabe anchovy lovers (like yourself), as a celebration of brine, salt, and umami for those who already adore the little fish, or as something in between.

It’s funny, because the first time I made a version of this pizza, I was desperate for lunch and had almost no ingredients around. With some pre-shredded mozzarella I had stowed in the freezer so long ago I actually couldn’t remember the occasion and a pre-made pizza crust, I whipped up a pizza just like this in almost no time at all. Long story short, that pizza–sad ingredients aside–tasted delicious. That meant that an intentional pizza, with a similarly minimalistic number of ingredients, would taste even better.

Recently, I was exploring the realm of at-home pizza-making for First We Feast. This is a fanatical world, a place where ovens are turned, through hacks, into pizza ovens, and the moisture content of dough is serious business. I came back from that brink only to discover that Deb of Smitten Kitchen had pretty much figured out homemade pizza crust, that is, how to make Jim Lahey’s no-knead recipe even more accessible than ever, and that’s where I landed on the homemade dough for this delectable shrine to anchovies, also known as Pizza Bianca with Anchovies & Kale.