Pink of Perfection

I didn’t know it at the time, though I had an inkling, that the first meeting of my new book club was a godsend. When you first get back from a honeymoon, you need a diversion to distract you from the fact that you are no longer sipping a piña colada on the sand. This is where a roomful of strangers and a lot of wine comes in handy. The book club was born in the forums, and when we had eight takers (the magic party number), we decided to meet (and if you’ve since written in wanting to join, I highly recommend starting your own party-of-eight chapters!).

You certainly take a leap of faith when you form a reading group of strangers, but you take the biggest chance when you decide to host the first meeting. Beth’s home was on the top floor of a brownstone. Her bookshelves were lined with all my favorites creating an instant, if sort of superficial, kinship. But it was when she brought out dinner that I decided she was an absolute genius. What do you serve to 7 strangers in the dead of winter when you have no mind for their predilections and preferences and don’t want to break the bank? Why, you make scalloped potatoes and ham, of course, just the way your mama taught you. Beth brought out an oval Le Creuset pot nearly as big as her filled with the sort of honest supper that makes my heart skip a beat: creamy potatoes flecked with fatty nubs of ham. I had seconds, and could have easily had thirds. But it was our first date, and I managed to restrain myself.

Of course, it’s not just that they are clever cooks, able to whip up dishes of delicious economy that’s made me so love my book club (we’re coming up on our fifth date and things are getting serious). Yes, they tell funny stories, and make wise observations — not only about literature, but about life — but I love a bigger lesson that they’ve taught me so far and that is this: All it takes to convert someone from stranger to intimate in this big crowded world of anonymity is an evening together. You don’t have to read the same books or share a love of cheese to bond (although all that helps). You just have to walk into a home with an open heart. And when you do, you’ll find that your neighborhood is rife with smarties, women who you’ll gladly let bend your ear, who turn you onto new podcasts, can recommend your next Netflix rental, and who remind you why the word copain means someone you break bread with.

Continue reading “$5 Dinner: Beth’s Scalloped Potatoes and Ham” »

Lately, most people I know have been hunkering down with a big bowl of noodles at least once a week. And rightfully so: the indignities of making our way through the cold and muscling into boots calls for dinner in a bowl, and preferably one that will leave you in a blissed-out carbohydrate haze. Sometimes, though, those of us who do not excel in the ways of moderation end up regretting it afterward. I like to think that if a healthy dose of cruciferous vegetable gets folded in with a wheaty tangle, the same comfort level can still be achieved and the bloated guilt diminished. At least, that’s the idea.

It wasn’t until recently that I began to explore cauliflower’s charms. I’ve always loved it as a crudité, but when it came into my life as a gratin, a soup, and most recently in Sebastian’s off-the-cuff red vegetable curry, I could feel myself falling in love. I doubt that cauliflower will stir the passion nor the vitriol sardines recently did, but that’s okay. Cauliflower is cool — a laid-back, mellow, vegetable that hangs around in the background until you need it to take center stage. It doesn’t need to live in the spotlight, but when it does, it really steals the show. And in a quietly confident way I sort of love.

Continue reading “$5 Dinner: Sweet and Spicy Cauliflower and Penne” »

Oh, believe me, I know what you’re thinking. Even the very word seems a little unappetizing. Sar-deeeens. Poor guys, they just don’t have the best PR in the world (or, as I gather, on this side of the pond), and it’s a shame, really. Because if you can get past your initial feelings, you might find that this inexpensive fish — high in protein, iron, calcium and all important omega-3 fatty acids — rather suits you. Or you may be like my friend who, when asked to join me at home for a sardine sandwich after an exceedingly pleasant morning spent writing side-by-side in a coffee shop, could not run away quite fast enough muttering something about ravioli in her freezer. I suppose they’re not for everyone, but all I’m asking is that you try. Where would you be if you had listened to the prevailing sentiments on liver or brussels sprouts? SOL, is where.

I used to splurge on a $9 sandwich that made me feel rather posh in the middle of the workday: marinated anchovies, soft-boiled egg, frisée and country bread. (I belong to the club, by the way, that likes just about anything topped with frisée and an egg). When I saw a recipe for this sardine sandwich in a recent issue of O, I thought it might be able to stand in for that beloved midtown lunch now that I am a work-at-home kind of gal. (Which really, presents a whole slew of problems that we should discuss at a later date, namely, what do you wear that makes you feel 1) not like a schlump in her pajamas at noon but 2) not like an idiot wearing a pencil skirt and blazer in her living room. I have resorted to looking at mommy blogs for guidance on this front, but am more than open to your expertise. End of digression.)

This sandwich was everything I wanted it to be: hearty, healthy, and full of flavor. The exact kind of lunch you want to have when you’ll be too busy to stop for a snack at 4pm; this is the sandwich that sees you straight through to dinner. I also surprised myself at how un-fishy I thought the sardines were. If you can handle canned tuna, you can certainly handle this.

And, last but not least, I was able to make good on my promise to Dayna and investigate some other recipes using sardines. Here are six elegant-sounding recipes that star our beleaguered fish friend:

Continue reading “The Case for Sardines” »

As is well-documented on this site, I have no prejudices against canned fish. In fact, the spendthrift in me is practically speechless that wild Alaskan salmon ringing up at $16.99 a pound can be found on aisle 5 for pocket change. Certainly, sometimes nothing but a fresh, meaty fillet with do. But for all those other times, such as when you aim to eat fish twice a week in order to load up on blues-fighting omega-3s, those little tins can be a savior. And come dinner time, who isn’t looking for a hero?

This isn’t so much a recipe as a template with quantities that should be adjusted to taste — less formulaic and more fuzzy math. Like a little black dress, a simple salmon salad can be dressed up or down. Served on rye crisps and garnished with a bit of smoked salmon and a tiny feather of dill, it makes a quick nibble with drinks; on toasted sourdough, a perfect midweek lunch; tossed with white beans and served on shredded romaine, a hearty dinner salad. You get the idea.  Pretty soon here I think I will be ready to branch out to other more-maligned canned fish lower on the food chain, like sardines and mackerel. Stay tuned or consider this fair warning, depending on your own tastes for such things.

Continue reading “$5 Dinner: Salmon Salad” »

I never thought I’d say this, but I am cheesed-out. If I see one more cube of cheddar or oozy wedge of brie, I just might lose it. Furthermore, I think I’ve had quite enough wine and cookies. It’s not that I don’t love the holiday food — I do; I even thought it was high time for an eggnog recipe the other day. But sometimes all the heavy treats start to feel like they are stalking you this time of year, dogging you down a dark alley with a tray of more cheese, more cookies, and another glass of wine tucked inside his long dark trench. When I have a moment alone between booze-fueled holiday gorge-fests, I find myself seeking reparations.

What do you turn to for that healthy kick between holiday parties? I find myself wanting protein-packed meals that welcome a big salad or bowl of broccoli on the side. Maybe your idea of healthy doesn’t include a rich red bean curry, but mine does. It takes a bowl of spiciness to wake my taste buds from their cheese and cream sauce slumber. This curry is an Indian cousin of your favorite kidney bean chili, and if you already have the spices in your pantry (and I hope you do so you can make mulligatawny), this dinner costs mere pennies, making it a fast and affordable dish to have in your repertoire. If you live in an apartment building, you will definitely fill the stairwell with heady aromatics, but I always like to come home to the signs of cooking, even if the smells come from behind some else’s door.

Continue reading “Spicy Red Kidney Bean Curry” »

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” »

At first, I held Thanksgiving responsible. Who would make a grocery store run for perishables that will sit in an apartment crisper when they know four days in the country are ahead of them? Perhaps I bragged too much about my ability to s-t-r-e-t-ch a food dollar over the weekend. As we walked out the door, my mom thrust a brown grocery bag into my hands filled with cheese, crackers, wine (”that’ll take care of tonight”), four cans of tuna, a box of whole wheat penne, 5 clementines and a bag of chocolate chips.

Then, upon returning from the long holiday weekend, I was taken hostage by a cold. My days filled with sleeping and The Up Series, there was hardly time or energy to make it to the grocery store. I did find some mangy looking celery — my first site of greenery in days! — which was thrown into a garlicky chicken soup for the patient. But my desire to make use of what’s at hand has gotten, well, a little out of hand. Adults do not eat repeated dinners of elbow macaroni and butter unless they are nursing a broken heart or feeding the blues.

My devotion to pantry suppers started quite valiantly, I must clarify, with this lovely brown rice risotto. I snagged a 1-ounce bag of dried mixed mushrooms when I saw them at Trader Joe’s for cheap. When you’re watching your pennies, dried wild mushrooms aren’t usually a good bet (they can be priced sometimes between $4-7!), but if you do see them on sale or at a discount store, they’re worth having on hand for nights when you don’t want to brave the grocery store but are feeling too together for a bowl of elbows and butter…again.

Continue reading “Pantry Supper: Wild Mushroom Brown Rice Risotto” »

When Sarah and I lived in New England and luxuries were few and far between, our mom took us to lunch at a little cafe with a slate patio at the Bennington potter’s yard. My sister, having discovered the glory of sweet and savory combinations early in life, ordered the potter’s lunch: a hot turkey, Vermont cheddar, and sliced apple sandwich served with whole grain mustard on thick, peasanty bread. Could there be a more satisfying 5-minute lunch? I doubt it.

I heated mine up in a skillet and ate it on the porch while admiring the deep navy plumage of a magpie knocking around the back yard. Then I went inside and googled Beatrix Potter. Did you know that Miss Potter was an expert mycologist, who identified the the symbiotic relationship between lichens and fungi and lectured at the London School of Economics? But more than that, I find it heartening that she had to self-publish (so much for that dirty word) the first edition of Peter Rabbit, after being rejected by six different publishers. She, as they say, sure showed them. Bon appetit! –Katy