Pink of Perfection

I am floating on a cloud of farmer’s market bliss. Last week I fell in love with garlic scapes––so spicy, so alien-looking!––and this week I swooned over a pint of raspberries so tender and sweet, I ate them with a spoon straight from the stained green cardboard. In the past I’ve been cautiously drawn to the familiar. But this year, I am striking out. What, pray tell, is red mustard? (It’s a kicky green that’s wonderful in stir-fries.) There’s a whole world of exploration to be done under those white plastic tents standing brightly in the middle of a concrete city at the intersection of Broadway and 14th Street.

But that poetical waxing is neither here nor there, as the recipe I’m about to tell you about has no exotic ingredients. In fact, you likely have everything you need for this dinner in the pantry. Which, as far as I’m concerned, makes it a shoe-in for dinner tonight. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that for those nights when you need a bowl of pasta for dinner––and I know you know what I mean––this supper fits the bill. With the front door closed on the unpredictable and tiresome indignities of the world out there, the salve to the cruelties of the day is this rich, nutty pesto, vibrantly green and alive with garlic, tossed with a tangle of noodles. We may now consider ourselves fortified for whatever lays ahead tomorrow.

Continue reading “Pea, Parsley and Walnut Pesto” »

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” »

Oh, lord, the humidity. It’s already got me in a state. My hands are clammy and my forehead is shiny. Let us just hope this is merely a transition to when I am suddenly glowy and crisp and fresh as a daisy. Seriously, how do people do that in summer? I will find this out in my next earthly incarnation, when I am rendered ethereal, rather than earthy.

(While we’re on the topic, generally speaking at least, does anyone have a non-greasy, everyday facial sunscreen that they love?)

I don’t have much to say today, so I will have to just cut to the facts: I have eaten this for three out of my last six meals. It is just what I needed in the wake of too much vacation: fresh, crisp, light, and lemony. I served it with a poached egg on top (no surprises there), but turn to whatever protein you like. Cold roasted chicken would be nice, cubes of tofu, a few chickpeas, or maybe even some flakes of smoked salmon. Oh, yes; that would be heavenly, indeed. And for the hot (and bothered?) among us, this is the perfect steamy day dinner or lunch. The stove stays on for mere moments, and you need only dirty one pan. Score one for the cooks in the battle against the summer heat!

Continue reading “$5 Dinner: Spring Vegetable Couscous” »

Back in the days when I woke up and traveled 45 minutes on a train to a job every morning, rainy days used to really get me down. Once I was in the office, there was something almost cozy about all us worker bees tucked into our cubicles while the wind hissed outside. But the getting out of bed was torturous. I have always struggled with the whole getting-out-of-bed ritual to begin with; add a dark, rainy day, and what little resolve I have goes poof.

I never imagined, though, then when my commute was as short as walking to the living room or neighborhood coffee shop, that rainy days would still be my nemesis. That I would still long to lounge and luxuriate. Or that after a few days of gray, I would want to drop it all and high-tail it to Mexico. Life just never stops serving us surprises, does it?

That’s a funny thing about finally getting what you want — it doesn’t always look or feel exactly how you thought it would. Call it human nature or a cruel joke, but so often when we get “there,” sometimes the scenery isn’t quite as breathtaking as we were anticipating. Blame our expectations.

But then, of course, there are the days when we expect nothing; when we’re just on a nondescript stretch of highway. Something about the slant of the light, the song on the radio, and the grip of our hands on the steering wheel creates a moment as breathtaking as a glimpse of the Grand Canyon. Perhaps even more so.

This has nothing to do with frittatas, of course, other than the fact that slices of this subtle, spring treat have sustained me morning, noon, and night these past few days. It is wholesome and simple, and perfect for these rainy days in May.

Continue reading “Baked Leek, Potato, and Parmesan Frittata” »

tasting :: Alison’s you-wouldn’t-know-it-was-healthy-but-it-was strawberry rhubarb crumble

hearing :: rediscovering my infinite love for Frank Black’s Black Letter Day

smelling :: dreamy hand soap in a cafe that I can’t stop thinking about it

seeing :: exploding roses, everywhere

feeling :: very happy to spend the weekend with my mom

What are your senses this Friday?

Wishing you all a very happy, relaxing weekend. Happy Mother’s Day!

photo via thomas pix

I spent part of this past weekend waking up in my friend’s bed to a view of her balcony lined with potted plants and palm trees beyond. She had terracotta planters filled with succulents and feeders to attract hummingbirds. It was a wonderful way to greet the day, and I watched her tend to her plants the way I do to guests: keeping them watered, seeing if they need anything, making sure they’re comfortable.

I’ve never seemed to have much of a green thumb. My potted herbs always shrivel up and an orchid promised to live forever bummed out on me. The one thing I’ve managed to maintain are some mangy looking geraniums on my bedroom windowsill. Inspired by my friend, though, I re-potted these plants, and set them out in the hot air of our fire escape. It rained hard that day, and the leaves sucked the moisture out of the heavy air. They seemed to shoot up an inch. I felt encouraged.

So now I’m thinking of going hog wild with container gardens, possibly even window boxes (but how do you keep them from falling off the ledge? anyone?). There’s a big, leafy tree outside our apartment that puts us in a bit of shade. I’m thinking of staying tried and true with my red geraniums, a bit of ivy, and revisiting my failed herb endeavor. I’m feeling hopeful about the whole thing.

Do you keep plants in pots and containers? What do you apartment dwellers grow? Do you keep plants inside, and if so, what? Help me to make my garden grow. I’m all ears!

All the seasons have their signifiers — the arrival of tomatoes in August, the emergence of pumpkins in the fall — but none seem quite so ecstatic as the harbingers of spring. We get pumped for the arrival of spinach, strawberries, asparagus, and artichokes, and this year, for the first time, I got to know another spring debutante: rhubarb.

Here’s the story: I’ve been eyeing my Grand Diplôme books on the book shelf, knowing its high time for a lesson. But when I pulled out week 7 (oh boy, is it going to take a lifetime to get through all 72 books), the lessons seemed woefully out of season. Who wants to make crème caramel or Bavarian cream in late April, I thought?

But the particularly gorgeous and inspiring May issue of Martha Stewart put everything right again. There were not one but two recipes for custards, which looked perfect and sounded delicious. And that’s when it hit me. The lessons in the Grand Diplôme lessons rarely seem appealing or seasonal, but I think it’s a matter of bad packaging and poor lighting (the photography, as previously established, is vile and a true testament to its age). In other words, from now on, as soon as a lesson rubs me the wrong way or seems stodgy or just plain blah, I’m turning elsewhere for a little inspiration.

And then I’ll turn back to the el grosso ’70s pictures for “the lesson.”

Have you ever had raw rhubarb? I snagged a piece as I was chopping up the stalks and found myself floored at its complex flavors. It’s tart with a citrusy zing that reminded me of lemongrass, which got me thinking about all the wonderful ways in which rhubarb could be used in savory dishes. But as for the recipe at hand, this is perfect spring comfort food. The custard is rich, but each bite is punctuated with the bright pink tartness of rhubarb. The milky caramel wards off the chill in the air and the rhubarb braces you for warmer days ahead.

Continue reading “Grand Diplôme Book 7: Rhubarb Custards” »

On these shape-shifting spring days — in which one moment the tulips in my neighbor’s backyard bend in the sunny breeze and next the sky’s turned ominous and rain threatens — I long for something steady, something to rely on.

And I always come back to lentils.

They are a stalwart and steady friend in this house. They’ve been with me on days of faux luxury and days of deep poverty. And I can say I’ve yet to run into a way I don’t like them. My favorite is the red variety, velvety, comforting, and falling-to-pieces right along with you, if you need them to.

But then there are the green lentils from France, like poor man’s caviar, they say. “They” must be a little off their rocker, but I will concede there is a touch of understated luxury in this incarnation. More importantly, this is a lunch that feels properly grounded for these flitty days. There’s even a waft of civility in here. And if you don’t need a breath of that every now and then at lunchtime, you’re a better woman than I.

Continue reading “Spring Stalwart: Lentil and Arugula Salad” »