Pink of Perfection

If the weather’s going to warm up and get all spring-y, I better hurry up and tell you about the last lingering hearty cold-weather recipes before it’s too late. Which leads me, with no ado at all, to a no-holds-barred chilly night dinner of bolognese.

Do you have a restaurant that is your go-to for all sorts of occasions, be it a celebration, lazy brunch, or candlelit dinner? Ours is a little Italian brasserie (is that an oxymoron?) a few blocks down the street. The prices are reasonable enough that we can swing in for lunch or dinner, but the atmosphere is sexy enough to feel like a treat. They have ridonkulously good fries (not quite shoe string, but skinnier than most), a steak that can bring tears to your eyes, and a burger that will make you forget the worst hangover. But for a cold weather lunch, I can’t resist their bolognese served with thick paparadelle. With a glass of wine and a seat on the black banquet across from my husband, I’m in heaven.

There are few things more comforting than shuffling around the house on a weekend with a pot of ragu simmering on the stove. It is the same sensation as puttering around the house with a roast chicken in the oven. The fragrance of a wholesome, sustaining dinner fills the air and fills you with a historic, elemental sense of satisfaction: I have put together this and that and now it cooks away while I sit here and read, you think. How glorious! And it is glorious. Even more so when you spoon out some of the rich sauce on top of a bowl of noodles, and settle down on the couch for a movie (thanks, Margaret!). This is the type of cooking and eating that ranks sky high in the book of satisfaction: nominal effort, slow-cooking, and a deeply luxurious result.

Continue reading “Before Winter’s Over Bolognese” »

I’ve been having one of those blah weeks. Know that feeling? There’s nothing actually wrong — in fact, besides a scratchy throat that makes me sound at turns like Kathleen Turner, everything’s going quite well — but there’s something that I just can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s this last leg of winter gray or that I need a shot in the arm of get-out-of-town or learn-something-new excitement. Whatever it is, there it is. In fact, just saying it out loud feels like I’ve thrown the ballasts overboard. It’s out there now, hopefully sinking to the bottom of the dark oceanic depths from which it came. Now maybe something fabulous can come and take its place.

This isn’t the kind of psychic ennui that can be undone with a fantastic dinner, but if it were, this recipe would be the cure. I’m filing this one away in the “quick and easy but in line with my fantasy vision of myself” folder. I have always thought of the recipes in How to Cook Everything as little more than utilitarian; this, however, is simple but otherworldly. You pop the sliced potatoes and onions in the oven with nothing more than a bit of olive oil, turning them every 10 minutes until the onions turn languorous and the potatoes become golden and crisp in patches. They you lay the fish on top, drizzle a bit of olive oil over the fillets, and in 8-12 more minutes you have a supper that is wonderously simple but perfect in every way: lush with flavor, and easy but refined, like a woman with a very expensive haircut who wears it in a just-rolled-out-of-bed sort of fashion.

Continue reading “Roast Cod with Potatoes and Onions” »

Can I tell you a secret? This winter I made a discovery born completely out of pure, unadulterated laziness. One of my most abhorred kitchen tasks is peeling butternut squash. I hate the thick skin, the irregular shape. Just writing about it my nose has assumed a position of crinkled-up-in-annoyance. See, I don’t even like to think about it. Which is a shame, really, because I love the stuff once the hard work is done. That is why, when I once saw butternut squash already peeled and chopped in the grocery store, it was the kind of convenience food I could really get behind. When I didn’t see it again, though, I decided to just stop peeling. That’s right. Whether roasting (which Sara Rose convinced me was a-ok) or chopping up for a soup, I just left the skin on. What’s a little bit of extra fiber?

And that, my friends, is the only way I could bring myself to make this vegetarian winter stew. And it’s a good thing I found a work-around, because I really loved this, rich as it is with red lentils and topped with a smattering of chopped peanuts, yogurt, and cilantro. It’s the sort of decadent yet basically healthy food that gets me through winter without consuming a truckload of extra sharp New York State cheddar cheese and 40 gallons of tea.

Come to think of it — holy hey, it’s March! Did you read your Astrologyzone horoscope? Are you hanging in, or so deeply sick of winter that if you have to pull on your tights once more you just might yip?

Continue reading “Winter Squash, Red Lentil, and Chickpea Stew” »

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” »

If there’s one thing worth loving about winter, it’s how right red wine tastes when a cold wind’s at your door. To keep this habit from breaking the bank, I’ve developed a bit of a script. I walk into a wine store and say, “Hi. I’m looking for a great [insert desired wine varietal here] for under $10. Oh, and I want it to go really well with [insert what we're having for dinner here].” Wine store clerks love a challenge, and this is how I’ve found so many great wines, like the outstanding #4 below. To get you a really great list, I also turned to my friend Dan, who you may remember from his quick 3 course Italian feast, and who knows a thing or two about sleuthing out a great wine. Bottoms up, friends!

1. Casillero del Diablo Cabernet Sauvignon, $9
2. Alamos Malbec, $10
3. Colores del Sol Malbec, $10
4. Lancatay Cabernet Sauvignon, $9
5. Two Brothers Cabernet Sauvignon Reserva, $11
6. Santa Cristina Sangiovese , $10
7. Trapiche Oak Cask Malbec, $9
8. The Footbolt Shiraz, $13
9. Cline Cellars California Zinfandel, $13
10. Campo Viejo Tempranillo Rioja Crianza, $10
11. Jaboulet Cotes du Rhone blend Parallele 45, $12

There was once a restaurant in our neighborhood where I loved to go on snowy days. Inside, it was what I imagine a Swiss ski lodge is like — all dark wood, tall paned windows, and a roaring fire. I would sit on the wooden bench, wrapped in a scarf, and order a bowl of their French onion soup. At brunch, a basket of sweet, yeasty breads and orange-scented butter would come out first. And then the soup would arrive, crusty with just enough melted cheese to make a point (but not create a stomachache) and I would break the surface and dip down into a rich brown broth. It was, until the restaurant closed a few years ago, one of my favorite weekend lunches.

I don’t think I’ve ever met a friend or foe who didn’t care for French onion soup. It’s one of those foods that’s pretty delicious even when it’s not it’s best (though I’ve never been one to grumble over too much cheese), and it’s blissfully simple to make. I confess I’ve gone into a bit of a panic in the last couple weeks over all the wintery foods I still want to make before the first asparagus crops up. There is the truffle mac and cheese beckoning and the fondue (and do I see a fromagey theme here?), but what I would say to you is: this should make your winter short list. If you’ve never made French onion soup it’s absolutely worth a whirl, and such a comfort on a snowy night when you are hunkered down on the couch this weekend watching Doctor Zhivago.

Continue reading “French Friday: Onion Soup Gratinée” »

In addition to cozy, my love (and yours) of which we’ve discussed at length, I have a thing for wholesomeness. This is why, I think, I find myself so drawn to My Antonia, Anne of Green Gables, and fresh baked cookies. There’s something about them that just seems so guileless and innocent, how could there really be anything wrong with them? Who cares about the loneliness, Matthew’s death, or all that butter?

This is also how I feel about a certain sort of cake. It’s a cake with fruit it in and a dense crumb. The kind of cake that goes magically with a cup of tea on a dreary afternoon. The kind of cake that a mother — real or imagined — ought to bake. And the kind of cake that is just right after a rich and boozy dinner. It will soak up all the wine and cream sauce, brighten the air with citrus, and set things right again. Oh, how I wish at this moment there were still a slice in the kitchen.

Continue reading “Orange Walnut Cake with Greek Yogurt” »

vintage print via etsy shop holcroft

We’re deep into February, buried in snow, and spring is way out of sight. What better time to think about the stuff about winter that’s actually pretty grand? Bet you can add 50 more reasons in the comments. And yes, that is a dare.

1. hot chocolate
2. dogs in sweaters
3. miniature snowmen outside convenience stores
4. slippers (especially the anthropomorphized ones)
5. babies in fuzzy hats
6. a big, wrap-it-around-three-times scarf
7. getting to use that ultra-rich moisturzier
8. sun reflecting off the snow
9. blood oranges
10. big, bold red wines
11. hiding in turtlenecks
12. snow days!
13. the perfect season for knitting
14. stews & soups
15. hot tubs
16. valentine’s day
17. paperwhites
18. fondue
19. warm, boozey drinks
20. staying inside all day in pjs
21. shopping (everything’s on sale!)
22. kale, squash, and brussels sprouts
23. fuzzy boots
24. the foam on a latte…pretty soon you’ll be ordering it iced
25. toe socks
26. the olympics
27. liberal use of fairy lights
28. black tree branches heavy with snow
29. wearing the deepest, darkest, muskiest perfumes
30. holding hands inside your love’s roomy coat pocket
31. knee socks and tights!
32. fireside brunching, cocktailing, napping, smooching…
33. quiet, snuggly reading time at home
34. ski blankets
35. sheepskin rugs
36. visiting a sauna
37. the perfect blush color, naturally
38. vintage capes — you have one, don’t you?
39. bubble baths (they just don’t hold the same appeal in summer)
40. chili
41. wearing those ladylike, yet sexy gloves that end right above your wristbone
42. hunkering down under a down comforter
43. big, sweeping epic novels
44. legwarmers
45. the dense quiet of fresh night snow
46. renewed resolve
47. getting sweaty outside: snowshoeing, skiing, sledding, snowball fights…
48. the ultimate excuse to be a homebody
49. earmuffs — they’re kind of glamorous, don’t you think?
50. chinese new year (dumplings + noodles, anyone?)