How to Avoid Being a Zombie with Wasabi Avocado Dressing

By all reasonable accounts I should be deathly ill by now.  I’ve been working a lot.  Which means I haven’t been sleeping a lot.  

So how am I not a straight up walking corpse? How am I still using coherent words (mostly) instead of simply grunting or moaning? Why am I still among the living?  I'm trying hard not to suggest that this dressing is behind it all.  I'm trying hard not to suggest that it might possess—what some might call—mythical properties.  I'm also pretty sure I heard somewhere that wasabi had antimicrobial properties.  But I digress.  The fact is, I've been eating it daily.  Okay, sometimes twice per day.

And I’ve been waking up every morning.  Primarily: alive.  Secondarily: not hacking up things. So it could very well be the dressing.  We can't rule anything out, that's all I'm saying.

Don’t get me wrong.  This dressing will not write a 15 page paper for you.  Nor will it pry cold pizza out of your hands at 1 am when you are eating your feelings. 

It's a take on green goddess dressing, it's just been a bit electrified.  In a refreshing way. It’s lovely with cucumbers or even as a spread on a salmon sandwich.  It also goads you to eat your vegetables.  And these are all good things on suboptimal sleep.  Your body needs the extra support.  It’s also a good thing if you seem to be developing a bit of a stress gut.  Hypothetically.  

So my spin on this dressing: while it may not transform you into feeling like a goddess, it may help you feel a little less like a zombie.  

Wasabi Avocado Dressing

Ingredients:

Juice of 1 lime

1 avocado

1-2 tbsp wasabi paste

2 scallions, roughly chopped

Handful of Italian parsley leaves (~1/2 cup)

1/2 cup greek yogurt (2%)

3-4 tbsp mayo

1-2 tbsp olive oil

2-4 anchovies, rinsed

splash of rice wine vinegar

Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste

Instructions:

Blend all ingredients in a food processor until smooth and creamy.  Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.

Makes about 1.5 cups

Notes:

-I gave variable amounts because I've found salad dressings work best for me when I adjust things to taste.  I'm keeping it loose here.

-If you aren't really keen on the kick of wasabi start with 1 tbsp.

Pedaling in Sauteed Cabbage with Apples

The French have a way with words.  So how do you make spinning your wheels sound charming?  You say you are pedaling in sauerkraut. The French say: pédaler dans la choucroute. 

Last year I was shipping off to Paris around this time.  This year it’s not so much Paris as it is work, school, or—perhaps very soon—the looney bin.  Take your pick.  

Safe to say, impossibly chic French women need not apply here.  I’m knee deep in some pretty unglamorous funk at the moment.  But what I’m realizing is that we’re all up to *here* in it, so it’s best to just slap on some waders and trudge around in the muck. 

Thus, I decided to make use of some cabbage.  Because, well, pedaling around in sauerkraut made me hungry.  Except I didn’t feel like waiting for cabbage to ferment into sauerkraut.  Best not to let things fester, anyhow, when you have a short fuse.  So the cabbage got sautéed with some butter and apple slices and finished with apple cider vinegar and cognac.  (After all, a woman can’t live on pure brandy alone.)

It was just what I needed.  An uncomplicated fall dish, both tangy and sweet.  Quite comforting.  So you’ll likely find me at the market stocking up on heads of cabbage and trudging through the next few weeks.  Cabbage is a lot like life.  Sometimes it stinks.  Just add some brown sugar and brandy and make the best of it.

Sautéed Cabbage with Apples

~4 tbsp butter, divided

1 small white onion, thinly sliced

Kosher salt to season

1 apple, cut into thin strips

A pinch of grains of paradise, ground (alternatively, just use freshly ground black pepper)

1/2 head of cabbage, shredded or thinly sliced

2 tbsp apple cider vinegar

2 tbsp brown sugar

Splash of cognac (or other brandy)

Heat a pan on medium heat and add about two tablespoons of butter.  Add onion slices, a sprinkling of salt, and saute onions until they are nearly translucent; stir in apple slices and grains of paradise (or pepper). Cook until apples soften and then add the cabbage and vinegar; season with salt and cook until the cabbage softens.  Add about 2 more tablespoons of butter, brown sugar, and brandy and cook a minute or two more.

Makes about 4 cups

Notes:

-The grains of paradise add a nice floral note, but don't let not having them derail you from making this dish.  You can easily just substitute black pepper.

The Best is Yet to Plum: A Rosemary Plum Tart Restart

Let me level with you.  Life currently is not so dreamy at the moment.  I’ve neither had my cake nor eaten it recently, should you want a food-related idiom.  In fact, if we’re using cake as an example here, you might say I was holding a big bowl of batter and dropped it.  My life batter has splattered everywhere. 

I’m still cleaning up the little bits from underneath cabinets and between small crevices.   So I don’t have a lot to say except that I'm staying away from recipes that contain batter at the moment.  No need to let my metaphorical life become a true kitchen disaster.  

I'm starting from scratch.   I'm going back to basics.  Back to plums.  And back to Ina Garten.  Her tart recipe was the first dessert I successfully made.  It's the kind of recipe that your cookbook opens up to because the pages have been creased and spread so many times.

The recipe is easy and it delivers every time, which is more than I can say about a lot of other aspects of my life at the moment.  I'm confident this won't always be the case.  And, while I love tarts, I do have more to live for.  I can only hope there will be even better recipes ahead.  You could say, the best is yet to plum.  

Rosemary Plum Tart

Adapted from Ina Garten

Ingredients: 

2 cups flour

3/4 cup walnuts, chopped

3/4 cup dark brown sugar, lightly packed

3/4 cup cold unsalted butter, diced (1.5 sticks)

1 egg yolk

1 tbsp rosemary, minced

2 pounds ripe Italian prune plums, sliced

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Combine flour, walnuts, and brown sugar in a large bowl; add butter, egg yolk, and rosemary and mix by hand until the mixture comes together.  Press 3/4 of the mixture into the bottom of a 9" tart pan (or spring form pan).  Spread plum slices over the crumb mixture in circular pattern and sprinkle the remaining butter mixture over top.  Bake for 40-50 minutes until the tart is bubbling and slightly brown.  

Makes 1 tart

Notes:

-Lavender leaves also works quite nicely here, as well.  (If you know my blog, you know I love the stuff.)

-This tart is best eaten the day it's made.

-If Italian prune plums aren't available, regular run-of-the-mill plums work just fine too.

Olive Oil Chocolate Mousse and Birthday Reflections

I’m a groupie for birthdays. They punctuate another year passing.  A year, quite possibly, filled with trumpets and violins.  And to celebrate this cacophony that is life: you get to eat cake. Or cheesecake.  Or pudding, if that’s your thing.  Which is totally cool.  On your birthday you make the rules. 

As I tend to do around my birthday, I’ve been reflecting a bit.  And so I’ve compiled a list of things I’ve learned over the past year.  Also, I made chocolate olive oil mousse.  (There is no better accomplice for the procrastination of lists than chocolate.)  Two words: worth it. 

It’s rich, dense—yet also still fairly light, as mousses tend to be—and perfect with ... wait for it ... brandy.  “ Surely, this year has been more than chocolate and brandy?” you ask.  Right?  Crickets.  Fair enough.  

Regardless, please find my birthday reflections below.

-When you attempt to compile a list of what you've learned over the span of a year you may start to panic. (If this is the case, I urge you to breath.  Lists are stressful.)

-Just because you can freeze cake doesn’t mean you should.

-Life is short, wear the nice underwear.

-If you drink more than one manhattan, you will wake up looking like you had more than one manhattan.

-Sometimes love does hurt. 

-If you are having trouble sleeping, read Karl Marx (he's better than warm milk).

-Living in a studio apartment curtails sentimentality.  There just isn’t the space. Some tangible memories are bound to be jettisoned.  It's okay.

-Nothing good happens after 12 am.

-When in doubt, a little champagne never hurts.

-You can’t make people like you.  But you can will them to develop unruly sideburns and receding hairlines with abandon.

-Buy flowers more than you think you should.

-If it can’t be fixed with duct tape or a martini, it ain’t worth fixing. 

-When you are in a rotten, no-good mood, ask Billie Holliday to join you. 

-Impose no limits.  (Heaven knows, anything goes.)

-Take chances and lighten up about them.

-If you are feeling like life is just a little too much, remember: breath first.  Make chocolate mousse second.

Olive Oil Chocolate Mousse

Adapted from Tony Maws

Ingredients:

11 oz chocolate (70%)

9 egg, yolks and whites separated

3/4 cup sugar, divided

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/4 cup brandy

pinch of kosher salt

Instructions:

In the bowl of a kitchen stand mixer, whisk egg whites until they are frothy and then add in 1/4 cup sugar; keep whisking until medium peaks form.  Place egg white mixture into a large bowl.  

Chop the chocolate and melt over simmering water (in a double boiler), stirring occasionally.  While the chocolate is melting, add the yolks to the bowl of the kitchen stand mixer (it should no longer contain the egg whites at this point, but you don't need to wash it) and whisk with 1/2 cup sugar until the mixture becomes thick and pale yellow.  Once the chocolate is melted, slowly pour the chocolate into the egg yolk mixture, being careful that the yolks do not curdle.  Add in the olive oil, brandy, and salt.

Fold in the egg whites and, at this point, you may decide you are done.  I was a tad nervous about leaving raw eggs in my fridge for a few days, so I heated the mixture in a double boiler, over simmering water, stirring (by folding) until it reached 140 degrees.  (Caveat: the next day, I realized the USDA states egg dishes should be heated to 165 degrees.)  Pour into glasses and refrigerate 4 hours before serving.

Yields about 10 (1/2 cup) servings

Notes:

-I reduced this recipe and only made 1/3 of it.  The proportions worked out great and I didn't have too many leftovers to contend with.  For the recipe above, I figured I'd keep the original amounts, as "about 3 servings" is sort of an odd recipe yield.

-The mixture will look slightly runny when you pour it into your glasses, but it will set up and get fairly thick in the fridge.  

-I realize that heating the egg whites likely reduces some of their "poof" but, for me, I would do exactly the same thing the next time.  (Though, I might try adding a bit more olive oil, it didn't come through as much as I would have expected.  Despite this, I adored this mousse.)

Pasta Fazool: Now That's Amore

Here’s the rub.  A dairy farmer, vegetarian, hunger activist, nutritionist, and your mother are coming to visit.  So what’s for dinner?  The answer for yours truly: you look to your Italian American roots.  And you make pasta fazool. 

Also known as pasta e fagioli, though I prefer the vernacular I grew up with.  It’s what my mother made.  It’s what Dean Martin sings about. It's when the stars make you drool just like pasta fazool.  

This makes the dish sound fancy.  But ‘scus-a-me, it’s actually peasant dish: with pasta, beans, and tomatoes as the base. (Which should make the vegetarian, hunger activist, and nutritionist quite happy.)  A grate of pecorino over top satisfies the dairy farmer.  And, bada-bing bada-boom, everyone is bene.

It’s cheap and simple.  It’s morally responsible.  But, most importantly, it’s homey enough to satisfy mama. 

And in my family, mama made this often.  It was a staple growing up, especially when dinner was needed asap.  It was always welcomed, particularly when contrasted with the frozen fish sticks and chicken potpies that were supplemented when time was in extremely short supply. (The sight of Gorton the fisherman—in his yellow rain slicker—still sends shivers.)

This recipe is loosely based on my mother’s recipe, which was loosely based on my great grandmother’s recipe.  And so what lingers is an interpretation of a classic dish.  Feel free to adapt it as you see fit.  In the end, it should be—at its simplest— a dish filled with love.  Pasta love. 

Mine features homemade pasta and dried beans.  Your version may feature dried pasta and canned beans.  This does not matter.  What matters is that you put the passion in this dish.  Shoot for a moon-hitting-your-eye-like-a-big-pizza pie kind of love.  That’s pasta fazool.  That’s amore. 

Pasta Fazool

Ingredients:

~2-4 tbsp olive oil, divided

1 small onion, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

Kosher salt and pepper

28 oz can diced tomatoes

1 tsp red chili flakes

1 cup cooked fresh homemade linguine (or 2 oz dry linguine)

~1 cup fresh basil leaves (very loosely packed), gently torn

 2 cups cooked dried white beans (cannellini) or cranberry beans (borlotti) (or 2 cups canned)

Pecorino cheese, optional

Instructions:

Heat 1-2 tbsp olive oil in a large saute pan on medium heat.  Add onion, stir to coat in olive oil; cook until it begins to soften, about 3-4 minutes.  Add minced garlic, season with salt and pepper, and cook about 2 minutes more until garlic has very slightly browned and onions are slightly translucent.  Add tomatoes, red pepper flakes, a little more salt and pepper, and stir to combine; continue to cook on medium heat.

Meanwhile, boil the water for the pasta (unless you have some in reserve that you have already cooked).  Salt the pasta water and add the pasta once the water reaches a rolling boil.  Meanwhile, add half the basil to the tomato mixture.  Continue to cook the tomato mixture, turning down the heat if the sauce starts to spatter.  

Once the pasta is done, strain out the water (you may want to reserve 1/2 cup pasta water to add back to the sauce to help the pasta cling).  Add the beans, cooked pasta, and the rest of the basil to the saucepan with the tomato sauce and toss to combine.  Drizzle ~1 tbsp over the mixture and gently stir.  Taste and adjust for seasoning, if needed.  Top with sprinkle of pecorino cheese, if desired.

Makes ~6 cups

Notes:

-This recipe is super easy, makes great leftovers, and can be made in fewer than 30 minutes if you have all your ingredients ready to go. From college student to grandma, this dish can work wonders.

-My mom traditionally used white beans, however cranberry beans can occasionally be found at the farmers' markets here in Boston.  If this is the case, you can use fresh beans instead of dried.  (Unfortunately, fresh cranberry beans were nowhere to be found at the time of this recipe.)  While dried beans will take ~1 hour to cook after they've been soaked overnight, fresh beans take much less time after you shell them.  You can, of course, bypass all of this and simply get out your can opener.

-For my money, Muir Glen has the best canned tomatoes, but any dice will do you.

-The coup de grâce for the nutritionist: the vitamin C content of the tomatoes also makes the iron from the beans more easily absorbed.

The Power of Goat Cheese Stuffed Squash Blossoms

There is nothing rational regarding what I’m about to say.  But then again, there is nothing inherently rational about deep-frying the flower from a squash plant, now is there?  In fact, it’s probably best to disengage the thinking mind altogether on this one. 

Too ephemeral for any outside drama or noisy to-do lists, squash blossoms are best cooked the day they are picked.  So they force you to live in the moment.  Depending on your level of commitment, you may even find yourself thinking in hour long squash blossom increments.

And this makes them beyond beautiful.  If you struggle with living in the past or in the future, they can act like an instant, edible self-help book.  You know the kind.  The kind that urges you to behave in the present.  The kind with names like "The Power of Now" and “You Can Heal Your Life.”

So stop worrying about your ticking biological clock.  Or your irritable bowel syndrome.  Or what it means when someone calls you an alpha female.  Because the only thing that matters when in the presence of squash blossoms is that these little guys don’t wilt and die on you.  (That I’m recommending to deep-fry them likely helps with this in-the-moment living, too.) 

So when I happened upon them last weekend at the Siena Farms stand at the Copley farmers’ market, I scooped up every. last. one.  And then immediately started to panic.  My plans for the night had just changed. This may seem a tad extreme from a rational perspective, but I’d been on the hunt for squash blossoms since 2008: which was the last time I found them.  I did not have a squash blossom contingency plan in place.

Did I have canola oil at home?  (I did not.)  Did the Crystal Brook Farm goat cheese guy at the market have plain goat cheese left?  (He did not.)  So I was convinced by “goat cheese guy” to buy a version with specks of ginger in it and then hit Savenor’s on the way home for some grapeseed oil.  And—after some deep breathing—I was all the better for it. 

Which got me thinking.  I believe squash blossoms are made for those breezy, northern California Alice Waters types that I imagine stroll through farmers’ markets with big wicker baskets sniffing peaches.  They are not inherently made for neurotic North Easterners that scurry to the farmers’ market on their lunch breaks, ruminating about what to make for dinner and if they still have enough eggs left to procreate.

I suppose my greater point here: everyone benefits from the blossom.  And I imagine if they are fried, and come out of hot oil heading straight for your plate, that this only improves things.  Yes, this likely quiets the noise immediately.  Especially with the melty cheese involved.  So perhaps—on second thought—deep fried squash blossoms are made especially for us Woody Allen types.  And while we are too pragmatic (and cynical?) to let a squash blossom heal our lives, having some every now and then probably wouldn’t hurt. 

Goat Cheese Stuffed Fried Squash Blossoms

Ingredients:

Grapeseed or canola oil

A bubbly beverage, e.g. sparkling water, sparkling wine, beer (chilled)

Equal parts flour and rice flour 

Salt and pepper

Squash blossoms

Goat cheese, or cheese of your preference

Instructions:

Heat oil in a small saucepan on medium to medium-high heat; you'll want enough oil to sit 1-2 inches deep in the saucepan.  Meanwhile, place the sparkling beverage of your choice in a glass filled with ice cubes to chill the liquid further.  (This will ultimately help with the crispiness.) Then, combine flour and rice flour in a small bowl; season with salt and pepper. After this, add enough chilled liquid to the flour mixture (minus the ice cubes) until the batter becomes about the consistency of a crepe batter (more liquidy than a pancake batter). 

Remove the stamen from the inside of the squash blossom and stuff each blossom with 1/2-1 tsp goat cheese, depending on the size of the blossom.  

When the oil reaches about 350-375 degrees (or sizzles violently if you place part of a squash blossom in it) it is ready.  Quickly dip each squash blossom into the batter, shake off excess batter, and then place in the hot oil.  Cook until the blossom is golden brown, about 1 minute and then season with salt and dry on a paper towel.

Notes:

-The amount of ingredients needed for this recipe depends entirely on the amount of blossom(s) you are able to get your hands on.  It's also 100% low maintenance, so go with your gut and don't be afraid.

-If you don't have rice flour you can substitute cornstarch. 

-Grapeseed or canola oil are good to use because they are both neutral-tasting and let the flavor of the squash blossoms shine through.  They also have fairly high smoke points, which means your kitchen won't be filled with smoke at the end of this little food exercise.

The Memory of Maple Roasted Butternut Squash Barley Salad

Let me just say that I never thought barley + butternut squash could incite so much passion.  I should have known better.  I first made this salad for my sister’s bridal shower.  Her wedding was this past weekend and—even weeks later—it still had people talking.  I'd even go so far as to say that there was more salad-related chatter than the typical love life inquiry chitchat.  

Which was fine by me.  Talking about barley is much less awkward.  Especially when you’re in a bridesmaid dress with Frank Sinatra playing in the background.

Coincidentally, preparing this recipe requires a certain romancing of the ingredients.  It’s not rocket science, but you have to pay attention to the details.  And in the end, it’s the details that make the salad worth eating. 

So, dear barley salad, there are many things that will keep me loving you and, with your permission, may I list a few?  The way you wear your hat.  The way you sip your tea ….  Errr, I probably shouldn’t anthropomorphize the barley too much, should I?  I suppose it's too late.

This is truly a salad to love.  The butternut squash is peeled, chopped into tiny cubes, and tossed in oil and herbs.   The onions get bathed in balsamic.  Then these very special jewel-toned vegetables marry with the barley.  

So here it is, after much request: the ingredients and instructions that will—with any luck—recreate a gorgeous salad.  As for the ingredients and instructions for a gorgeous marriage?  Be forewarned, looks fade.  So you had better have backup.  As for the salad?  The taste improves the longer it sits.  With any luck, the leftovers for both will linger.  

But no matter what: the barley was good, and pretty, and the memory of all that, no, they can’t take that away from me.

Maple Roasted Butternut Squash Barley Salad

Ingredients

1 pound barley, uncooked

2 butternut squashes, peeled and chopped into 1/2" cubes

6 sage leaves, minced

3 sprigs rosemary, minced

~ 1 cup olive oil, divided

Salt and pepper

Juice of 3 lemons, divided (zest of one lemon reserved)

Juice of 3 tangerines, divided (zest of one tangerine reserved)

~6 tbsp maple syrup, divided

3 red onions, peeled and sliced thinly

2-4 tbsp balsamic vinegar (enough to coat red onions)

Instructions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.  Prepare barley on stovetop according to package directions.  While barley is cooking, place butternut squash cubes on baking sheet and toss with the herbs and enough olive oil so that the cubes glisten and will not stick to the pan (~4 tbsp).  Season liberally with salt and pepper and place into preheated oven.

Meanwhile, prepare the dressing by combining the juice of 2 lemons, 2 tangerines, zest of 1 lemon and 1 tangerine, at least 1/2 cup olive oil, a quick gulg (a tablespoon or so) of maple syrup, and salt and pepper to taste.  (At this point you may need to add additional acidity, so add more citrus juice or additional maple syrup and olive oil for sweetness and body, respectively, as needed per your preference.)    Set dressing aside until the barley is thoroughly cooked with cooking water drained.  Toss 1/2 of the dressing with hot barley in a large bowl and set aside.

Then check on the butternut squash and toss it with ~1/4 cup maple syrup and juice from the remaining lemon and tangerine and place back in oven and continue to cook it until squash is fork tender and caramelized.  Meanwhile, place red onions on another baking sheet and toss with balsamic vinegar and additional olive oil; once again, until well coated.  Season with salt and pepper and roast in oven until they are caramelized and shriveled.  (They will roast fairly quickly, so keep an eye on them.)

Once the squash and onions are done, mix them with the barley; then toss everything with the remaining dressing.  Taste and adjust for additional salt and pepper as needed.

Makes about 10 cups 

Notes:

-Since this recipe was me, in the kitchen, in rare form: most of the measurements are approximates.