Pink of Perfection

To say that the little mound of green you see here on top of a toasted slice of bread is a firecracker explosion of flavor in your mouth would not be overstating it. This is a fresh and zingy bite that would the perfect accompaniment to happy hour at home of Lillet cocktails or a glass or rosé; with a hard-boiled egg or a fresh cup of gazpacho, it just might be the perfect summer dinner.

A few words: whatever you do, don’t skip the mint! I nearly did, but having some leftover from my Thai-ish salad the other night, I can tell you that the mint is the stealth winner of this entire affair. In fact, wait until your own summer mint is thick and thigh-high, if you must. The mint is what makes this just dance on your tongue as lightly as a woman on the prairie in long cotton dress, swirling across a raised wooden platform to the summer evening sounds of a banjo, her hand held tight by a man who will try to kiss her later, and for the first time, on the walk home. You know what I mean.

Also: fava beans are, in my book, second only to artichokes as the most high-maintenance vegetable on earth. And between you and me, I’m not sure the pay-off is as great. The reason why they’re so much dang trouble is that you have to peel them twice. First, you slice open the pod. Then, each bean needs to be individually peeled from its thick, waxy skin. A trick to this: put the unpeeled beans into the microwave for a few hot moments and they will essentially steam off their jackets. Despite all this trouble, they are, nevertheless, delicious; but sub them for something else if you’re feeling lazy. Dare I even suggest thawed frozen peas? But I’ll say it again: just don’t skip the mint!

Continue reading “Mint, Fava Bean, and Parmesan Bruschetta” »

Draw closer, dear readers. I’m about to share with you a gem from the recipe treasure trove.

There are some foods I make and write about on this blog that are weeknight-worthy. Simple cooking is very often the most delicious, and putting dinner on the table each night with care and consideration is, in my opinion, one of the most artful acts on earth. But every once in a while, I raise my sight line from ground level to the stars. Perhaps, let’s say, when a friend is coming over for a drink and a nibble. Then I remember something so show-stoppingly delicious, I wonder how it could have even fallen out of my repertoire for as long as it has and moreover, why I have kept it from you for all these years. Forgive me. I’m about to pay it forward, win you admirers, lovers, and friends for life, all with the following recipe.

This chicken liver paté is the reason I wanted a food processor of my own. It has accompanied me to holiday parties and book club (hi ladies!), and it is always met with delight. Perhaps those who don’t like organ meats stay quiet, as they should, frankly. People who like paté will love this. And as you know, I don’t make a lot of high-minded, definitive proclamations, but if I’m sure of anything in this world, it is how truly fabulous this paté recipe is.

As for the kir, need I mention anything more than it is a favorite of Poirot? Together, these two make for a posh happy hour, the ever-so-slightly syrupy kir a perfect match for the rounded, rich saltiness of the paté. I like to imagine MFK Fisher in the Dijon years wearing a pencil skirt and dreaming up ideas while eating sipping and eating in the company of a very good, very wise female friend.

Come to think of it, perhaps this is just what we need to get in the holiday spirit. I don’t think it could hurt.

Continue reading “Happy Hour at Home: Kirs, Chicken Liver Paté and Maple Apples” »

When for awhile you exist in the land of bounteous buffets that offer your heart’s desire — say, on vacation at a resort or on a cruise or at a Sunday brunch smorgasbord — you learn quickly what you would eat when handed the world on a plate. My husband gravitates towards steak at every meal: steak and eggs to start the day, steak and french fries at noon, and ribeye for dinner, juicy and rare. I, apparently, just want to eat homemade tortilla chips and fresh, spicy, pico de gallo. Plate after plate, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it is one of my most favorite meals. Add a paloma and I’m in heaven.

But the thing about Brooklyn tomatoes in December? Not looking so hot. In fact, it would be an exercise in disappointment to try to recreate the luscious flavors of a ripe tomato-filled pico de gallo. But a girl who needs her fix and is willing to make compromises will perhaps look around to see what’s in season and will find apples — tart, sweet, and crisp. I served this apple pico de gallo alongside sliced rare steak, black beans and rice for a meal that satisfied needs of both husband and wife.

When meal time comes, what do you crave again and again? Cheese and crackers? Peanut butter and saltines? Big salads? Soup and bread?

Continue reading “Non-Equatorial Pico de Gallo” »

There comes a time in every woman’s life when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne. –Bette Davis

If I were a magician, I would like to bring back into my fold all the friends and fellows who were in my company this past weekend. I would gather up people from all corners of the globe and country and plop them into my living room where I would play Whitney Houston, ply them with herbed goat cheese and French 75s, and encourage dancing and the telling of embarrassing stories.

There is nothing like old friends. And I can’t really think of anything to follow that sentence that doesn’t sound hopelessly trite. But here goes: The best ones can understand what’s going on with you in a near telepathic way that requires no explanation on your part. Picking up with them is to pick up right where you left off, but still somehow managing to include all the realities of now. Whatever makes you laugh in the moment contains the hysterics of something five years prior, and they have the secret, privileged knowledge of knowing you used to wear clothes from Contempo Casuals when you were “dressing up.”

None of this is meant to diminish the the wonder of new friends, which are more remarkable, in a way, for you’re having been able to find them in the real world next to the office xerox machine or at the local coffee shop. But like the Brownie song goes (and sometimes you have to resort to the Brownies to really express yourself adequately), “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.”

I’m wishing for a few more days with the golds.

Continue reading “Happy Hour at Home” »

I thought it best to make my mom’s favorite foods for Mother’s Day dinner, and because she likes aioli, salmon, and coconut, my cooking on Sunday wasn’t so much a labor of love as it was a labor of likemindedness.

We drove together to a farm stand on a hilly stretch of road between our house and another town on a warm and sunny day. The flowering trees and forsythia had their moment the previous weekend, and now potted flowers were laid out for sale on splintery tables outside — gerber daisies and lots of blooms I didn’t know the names of. We grabbed two beautiful bunches of asparagus. The wind was whipping around so wildly, the roadside grasses were bowing deeply at the waist like gentlemen.

Back at home, my mom planted Early Girls in the garden and I stood at the counter in her kitchen, snapping off the asparagus ends, and looking out at her leaning into the dirt. The sun was catching in her short hair, and I thought, with such deep surprise and so much gratitude it nearly took my breath away, the spring always comes. After a winter of doctors and tests, prodding and hospital rooms, it is Mother’s Day and it is spring and it almost seems like a miracle. But it’s my mom.

Spouses and significant others stayed at home, and my older brother and sister and I sat in the kitchen with my mom, the wooden table spread with blanched asparagus and aioli, cheese and crackers, and chips and salsa — all mom’s favorites. Oh, and three of four kids — her other favorites. Salmon was to come, followed by coconut macaroons and a cup of tea. I don’t even remember what we talked about, I just know it was perfect.

Continue reading “Spring Menu for a Mom” »

One of my favorite outcome of the tightening of our economic belts has been an enforced return to scaled-back fun. Not scaled-back as in “less of,” but instead, a retreat from restaurants and bars and a move onto living room couches, homemade cocktails in hand. Rather than go out for a French lunch recently, for instance, my friend Kim invited me over for wine and cheese, and I have since decided that happy hours at home (as well as Saturday date nights at home, which I’ll write about soon), are my new favorites.

With happy hour at home, you can control the quality of what you’ll be munching on when the inevitable tipsy hunger strikes, you can get up and dance when your favorite song comes on the ’80s playlist, and you can lay down when you’ve had too much. I invited my dear, delightful friend Nazy to come over and celebrate the beginning of spring with gin and tonics and edamame hummus. She brought over her first experiment with no-knead bread (which was great) and some boursin. She also kindly accepted when I asked if she would play her accordion as I walked along a path or grass to get married. All in all, much better than a night on a bar stool, forking over Andrew Jacksons.

Continue reading “Happy Hour at Home” »

Whether it’s New York culture or simply adult culture, have you noticed how over-scheduled everyone is? Usually, you can forget about “what about drinks this weekend?” to say nothing of, “wanna come over tonight to help me eat up the leftover coq au vin?” And when you get to the holiday season? Well, as they say, fuhgettaboutit.

But that’s the thing about last minute invites — maybe only your nearest and dearest will be able to make it, and really, during the time of year when you are perhaps most over-extended holiday craziness, isn’t that the best kind of party? Such was the case the past Saturday night when a few of my favorites wedged on to our super uncomfortable Danish sofa and nibbled on humble but hit-the-spot snacks of hardboiled eggs, pimento cheese on Triscuits, and mini pizzas.

Continue reading “Last-Minute, Low-Budget Cocktail Party” »

Bon Appétit asked me to contribute a recipe to a holiday slideshow of their favorite bloggers (!) and I knew just what to make. Perhaps it says a bit too much about where my priorities lie, but the holidays demand festive cocktails, and unless you mean to make no bones about your endeavor to get schnockered (and sometimes, really, who can be bothered?), drinks call for snacks.

What makes the holidays seem special is making a wee bit more effort than microwaving a bag of popcorn when your friends come for cocktails. This snack should be ideally something that can be pinched easily from a bowl during the artful delivery of your friend’s story about the hilarious thing that happened in the check-out line at Walgreens. These nuts, I confess, have a lot going on. Consider them an embodiment of a season of excess. They are, as the title suggests, salty, sweet, spicy, and jazzed up with the pine notes of fresh rosemary. The heat and salt will make you want to take another sip of your drink, and continue to drink like that, missy, and you will most certainly further the munchies. It’s a rather mutually beneficial relationship.

I’m really honored to be in such good company in this slideshow, and want to thank Emily at Bon Appétit for thinking of me. And now, the nuts….

Continue reading “Spicy, Sweet & Salty Rosemary Nuts” »