Gilding the Lily since 2006
I hate to do this (or anything for the sake of doing), but since I said I would post the cassoulettes (mini-cassoulet) from the Scarlet Runner beans I grew (or that I would cook them, actually), here it is. Sorry to give it so unenthusiastically, …
Scarlet runner beans, in varying stages of my impatience Jason is coming over again tonight for Project Runway Night (followed by Top Design), and is gorgeous to be bringing a barbecue chicken pizza from Blind Onion. I’m making some salad of sorts from my garden’s …
My tomatoes are really coming on good now. I have to go out every day to keep up with them! Otherwise those fucking raccoons will steal them, take a few bites and then leave them there to rot. This is what they’ve been doing to my pond plants, anyways. Fucking raccoons.
The rest of my jalapeños, I’m letting ripen to red so I can smoke them into chipotles. But once in awhile I actually need a chile for something, and it is so satisfying to just step out into the garden and help myself. My half-assed efforts are finally paying off! Thank you, unseasonable heat and rainstorms.
Pico de gallo is such a no-brainer for using up tomatoes. It’s one step away from gazpacho, but unlike gazpacho, I actually like pico de gallo. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You have disbelief on your face. What, I don’t like everything. Surprised? I’d rather just dip some crispy tortilla chips in this than pretend I’m eating soup when it’s too damn hot for soup.
I grabbed a day’s worth of yellow pear tomatoes, a few Sungolds brought to the office by a co-worker (I really can never pass up free produce, especially if no one else was taking any), and a fist-sized Cherokee Purple. Gave them a gentle dice with a sharp knife (to prevent mashing them), minced some onion, garlic and a jalapeño, then a handful of chopped cilantro, salt and pepper. That’s it! If you’re one of those people, you could throw in some cucumber and give the whole lot a blitz to make gazpacho. But really, why would you? Pico de gallo is way better.
It’s particularly nice draped across a brekkie burrito, too. Quite nice indeed.
So, in case you don’t know, I’m on Twitter. I’ve never felt the inclination to be all, “Hey everybody! Tweet me! Tweet me hard.” Nonetheless, some of you good friends of mine have found me. Some of you are even good for a little smack-talk …
Yes, I’m posting popcorn. On a Friday morning. After the harried 5-times-a-week Foodbuzz challenge, I decided to take a wee break after the 10th. I’m still trying to figure out if I can/want to keep up the pace indefinitely. So for today, I show you …
Yes, that is a segment of lamb femur with the marrow sucked out, enjoying its second life as a parsley holder.
Anyways, I assembled these ingredients: sweet peppers, eggplant, leek, parsley, lamb leg steak (plus tomatoes and jalapeños from the garden). Without contemplation, I gave the steak a massage with the last of the heady Berbere spice mix. I sliced the eggplant into thick wedges and salted them to leach out the bitter nightshade jus. I quartered the leek and peppers lengthwise, and doused them in red wine vinegar, lemon juice/zest, olive oil and minced shallots. The tomatoes were cut into thick chunks and nestled into a foil bowl with oil and garlic. Stashed a sack of hickory under the grate and fired up the grill.
In a few minutes, the sweet smell of hickory permeated the patio and tendrils of smoke began to sneak into the kitchen. The marinated vegetables went on the fire, the tomatoes in their little cradle. I replaced the lid to trap the smoke.
When the vegetables had received their requisite char, they were returned to their marinade bowl and the steak went down. I’m so old-fashioned that I can’t conceive of dinner without starch, so I got some orzo boiling (I was out of couscous, the “no doy” choice). When it was tender I drained it, dumped in the smoked tomatoes and garlic, some chopped parsley and cilantro, pinches of salt and chopped some of the grilled eggplant. I gave the lot a glug of olive oil and a squirt of lemon juice.
I had been thinking about a sauce for dipping the meat and veg – gremolata? Pistou? Again, I just left my instinct to its devices and plugged handfuls of parsley and cilantro into a large cup, and added a hearty glug of olive oil. A pinch of salt was added, and some minced shallot. Whiz with the immersion blender. Taste. Add a small handful of pumpkin seeds, and a whole, raw chopped jalapeño. Whiz, taste. Needs acid, and….something. A squirt of lemon, a clove of garlic and some more salt. Whiz, taste. Perfect.
Dinner was amazing. Flavors of Algiers that I’ve never imagined before – Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, African – all mingled harmoniously on my plate. Cooking by animal instinct, from the gut, has never failed me.
I love onigiri. They’re like Japanese arancini. The first time I had it, I was at my friend Kayoko’s house. She was my first exposure to real Japanese culture (hentai notwithstanding), and she would frequently host informal dinner parties for her friends and Portland International …
Not a bad way to continue purging the fridge and cabinets, although I’m totally out of pasta now! I didn’t realize I was out of my favorite, linguine (didn’t have any spaghetti left, either), and had to use the last of the orecchiette instead. This didn’t seem quite right to me – I really had my heart set on a plate of spaghetti marinara for this, but whaddayagonnado.
I finally used up that gigantic zucchini that’s been in my fridge. I halved it lengthwise and scooped out the seedy pulp in the middle, then filled it with the leftover sausage and vegetable saute from last night’s pizza, with some hunks of mozz stuffed in for good measure. I was originally going to close it back together and wrap it in puff pastry, but there was too much stuffing to make a nice loaf. Instead, I sprinkled a mixture of grated parm and panko, with some garlic powder and oregano added for flave. Drizzled on a little olive oil, and into the oven until the squash was tender and the stuffing browned.
Sausage and cheese, what can’t you do? Yes, it looks exactly like a low-carb version of my French bread pizza. Tasted pretty much the same too! I just sliced it into thick slabs to top a little orecchiette aglio e olio (and a the last drop of sauce stirred in).
This was such a yummy, simple dinner. Delightful for a weeknight. Until I inhaled a crumb of panko and choked for ten minutes while it scraped my epiglottis.
…’cuz I’m even too lazy for store-bought bread dough! No, I really wanted to make “real” pizza with actual dough, but New Seasons was out! What is this, Communist Russia? I want pizza in fifteen minutes, dammit! So I did the closest thing to phoning …
