April 08, 2008

couscous with peas, mint and cilantro

While the beer-braised lamb was nothing to get excited about, the couscous I made to complement the dish - was. I'll be as brief about it as the time it takes to cook the whole thing. It was exactly what I was looking for in a spring dish - the peas sweetened the couscous, while the mint and cilantro added freshness and the promise that this rain and cold are not permanent elements of the season, but rather fleeting ones. That the sunshine and the warmth I was longing for, are just around the corner. I'm still waiting.

This side was wonderfully easy to make and will have to be made again soon - I couldn't get enough of it! If you're planning a last minute dinner party and are looking for something fantastic yet simple, this is something to consider. If you plan ahead (something I've not been able to do lately given work's insanity) you can even use fresh peas, which undoubtedly would make this couscous even better!

And of course, if you happen to dislike either mint or cilantro, there's no reason not to try other herbs in their place. How about dill or parsley? Maybe some chives and cucumbers instead? If none of those options appeal to you, try adding some lemon zest to your couscous and watch it come alive!

January 16, 2008

happy belated 2008!

I feel a bit of a cheat just posting these pictures and not including a recipe? I mean, really, who do I think I am, disappearing for weeks on end, and the resurfacing just to show you a couple of pretty food pictures only to vanish into cyber-darkness leaving no recipe for digestion? I know, I'm playing with fire here, even with trying to be coy, but I swear, the whirlwind of 2008 has taken me quite by surprise.

For one, our new toy is beautiful and stunning and we can't get enough of it, except. Oh, well, there's that feature it offers iPhoto, which has me all up in arms. For all the great, amazing things Apple offers, surely it can include its free photo editor to be better than this? I mean, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss Picasa on my old pc! Shame on me, right?

Except, I have been reading Deb and Luisa's complaints on Flickr and I'm glad I'm not the only one angry with the product. It simply doesn't edit well, and it's not because I didn't take the time to learn its features! I suppose I am long-overdue for Elements anyway - it's way cheaper the the full-blast Photoshop!

Halfway into the month, 1/24th of the way done with 2008. Where does the time go?

I hope that your 2008 so far has been nothing short of bliss. Me? I'm just trying to eke out some time to simply cook. Cook without taking a single picture. Cook just so we can have a home-made meal. With my job now being a great deal more demanding now, it's a new, wonderful challenge.

A special thanks to all of you who made suggestions on how to make SassyRadish better in 2008. I, and my intrepid web designer friend, are working on making this site a whole lot better this year. Even if I don't post more often, I am at least hoping to up the functionality of the site!

Updated: now with the dill potatoes recipe!! See below

August 23, 2007

you say shepherd’s pie, i say shepherd’s pile

I can be a real bore sometimes, I really can. I get one idea of a meal in my head and when someone tries to throw me a curve ball, I have a cow. It’s not that I’m unwilling to rethink a recipe, turn it upside down and change its appearance – it’s just that I get a vision in my head and then I’m hopelessly stuck in it, at least for the duration of the recipe. Call it "recipe tunnel vision".

It’s been awfully unsummery outside as of late. Temperatures in the fifties, winds, rain and me shivering outside. I pulled my trench coat out, my sweaters are back on shelves out of their temporary storage. I was going to make gazpacho for you people, and now what? I’ve been so distracted by this early onset of fall, that I not only made my favorite porcini mushroom soup, but also, so distraught by my distress, failed again, to take pictures of this soul and belly warming concoction. Gazpacho? Salads? Where are my soups and squashes to roast?

So when I emailed KS about dinner a few nights ago and he emailed me back that he was already on top of it (I know, I’m a lucky girl!), the nosy me, of course, just had to know what would be served. The response – vegetarian shepherd’s pie.

Oh and then the dreaming ensued. For the remaining hours at work, I was awash with anticipation – flaky pastry with potatoes, peas, corn, and other vegetables. I think that if you put a plain potato in front me of me, I’m in pure heaven, but mashed potatoes with the accouterments, or some other incarnation of them – few things make me happier. And so with visions of flaky pastry, I went rushing home, picking up a bottle of wine en route – to make our dinner all the more comforting. But KS, finding inspiration in the kitchen took the idea of shepherd’s pie and changed its structure by removing meat and crust. The result, not so much a shepherd’s pie, but rather fancy mashed potatoes. And yet, it tasted so much like shepherd’s pie that I took back my pouty face which was my initial reaction “What no crust? Why no crust? Must have crust!” But then again, my love of potatoes made that missing crust but a faint memory. I got so carried away with eating, that you get only one picture to feast your eyes on. See, this is what you get when KS makes me dinner – gushy write-ups and no pictures. I have much to improve upon!

July 20, 2007

muggle pursuits and obligations

I must confess that I have been waiting with baited breath for this book to come out and yes, I absolutely adore the Harry Potter series. And in case you are wondering, no, I haven't ever been a Star Trek, Star Wars or a Lord of the Rings fan. While I liked the books and movies of the last one, to me, nothing beats the Potter series.

And so the book is finally out and in my clutches. I'm not yet done with it, and I haven't been reading any chatter on the book, which has been tough given how prevalent and ample it is out there. I've somehow managed to block it out.

However, muggle obsessions aside, and despite the fact that I lifted nary a finger this weekend in the kitchen, I still had to fulfill my guest writing gig at Accidental Hedonist. This week, it's all about quinoa - and reading the instructions on the box it came in, of course. Come and read all about it.

June 28, 2007

never a dill moment

There comes a time, in every pantry’s life, when you have to manage your resources. It’s almost shameful to be a cook and let your food spoil. KS, at heart, is a functional, practical, resource-allocating cook. I, on the other hand, have my head in the clouds, dreaming of dinners in the afternoon and compiling a mental check list of food stuffs to pick up en route home. It mostly works out well, as we balance each other out, me with my flights of fancy, and him with a practical approach to our crisper. The Swiss chard, among other vegetables thanks him for it.

But sometimes, I too exhibit practical, creative thoughts when it comes to resource management with our perishables. I look at our ingredients in need of attention et voilà, a dish is born. This time, I think I did quite well – not to pat myself on the back!

From my farmers market trip on Saturday, our fridge still held among other things, half a bunch of dill, some green onions and the spring garlic that I simply cannot get enough of. The spring garlic came with long, exotic looking greens that looked beautiful enough to use as flowers in a large vase, if only I didn’t have plans for them of the kitchen variety. I stared at these ingredients long enough to realize I had half a cup of pine nuts sitting around. And suddenly it all came together – a dill pesto with green onions and spring garlic greens!

Growing up, I used to joke that if my mother could make cupcakes out of dill, she would. Of course, that which we mock when we’re young comes to afflict us when we grow up. Surely enough, I am as much of a dill fanatic, if not more so, than my mother, and I bet she’s having the last laugh now. The pesto, a summery twist on a classic, came out beautifully, with a delicate summer flavor and a pungent garlic bite that gave the perfect dressing for our bow-tie pasta, which, I am ashamed to admit; we bought, and did not make. And I am certain that as I ate my bow-ties by the spoonfuls, I heard the pasta machine whimper in the pantry.

June 21, 2007

a different kind of a mille-feuille

Sometime I lunge head first into a recipe without really considering what the process will entail. I’ll all but skim the ingredients list, look at the picture, consult my flippant cravings and then jump in. Most of the time it’s worked fine for me, but at times, I find myself in the middle of something not quite what I expected. And then the only thing to do is just soldier on.

When I read about this thousand-layer lasagna, I was instantly hooked. Layers and layers of almost translucent pasta, delicate in texture, yet intensely flavored. How could I possibly resist? I saw pictures on Heidi’s site, and then Deb wrote about it, and I knew it was a matter of time before I would succumb to the delicate pasta call.

It helped that our pasta machine wasn’t getting much use lately and we were feeling like we have to justify its purchase somehow. I was going on and on about how I wanted a mandoline and KS gently reminded me that before we buy yet another piece of kitchen equipment, we had to use the ones we had. I couldn’t really argue with him, practical boy that he is.

And so while he and his friend played tennis one afternoon, I got to work. I rolled my dough and let it sit. And that’s when I decided to read the instructions more carefully. Boy, was I in for a challenge. Not so much a process challenge, but a space challenge. You know how New York kitchens are, and if you’re not a New Yorker, I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now. Tiny spaces lacking counterspace, they are not friendly places for laying out layers and layers of pasta, and that’s what you kind of have to do. Heidi’s warning was well-noted – I did need all the counter space I could get my hands on, and then some. I laid out fresh kitchen towels everywhere the eye could see.

I rolled and rolled until the sheets were so thin, they were almost torn, going to 8, but not quite to 9. And then into the boiling bath they went, and then into the cold bath, and finally to the towels to rest. It. Was. A. Process. While not technically challenging, it took awhile. And it was very step intensive. But I was in the middle of it and when a recipe and I start playing chicken, I always win.

The layering part was the easiest and most fun. I will change things a bit next time though. I will use thin sheets of cheese instead of chunks as they tend to melt better and prettier that way. And secondly, I would love to do this with a nice, thick Bolognese sauce. But in the end, it was incredible. Everything I wanted and imagined this lasagna to be. Each square was like a savory mille-feuille, layer upon layer of pasta with tomato sauce and cheese. Undoubtedly to be made again. And again. And again. A thousand times over.

April 23, 2007

reaching higher, albeit without a pulitzer

I’ve been so remiss about posting, you would think me a slacker. And while I haven’t been adequately applying myself to blogging, it’s not for lack of desire or effort.

I’ve been detained so to speak. And not by socializing or work or lack of initiative. I think my age is beginning to show and with it, a slew of health issues – in this case a torn lower back muscle (How? Why?) – and boy does it hurt!! Last week, I couldn’t even carry my trusty, beloved Le Creuset across the kitchen!! And I’ve all but taped the heating pad to my lower backside. That and some strained peas make me a perfect candidate for assisted living!

A week away from the ripe age of 29 (gah!), I realize I don’t have much to show in the ways of worldly accomplishments. And I’ve been humbled, really humbled last week, upon learning that a former school mate of mine, a grade below me and two years my junior who works for the Wall Street Journal – won the Pulitzer prize for excellence in Journalism. Or rather his group did – a group of four journalists. But still – to be 26 or 27 and have that excellence bestowed upon you – well, that’s an accomplishment.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not feeling inadequate. I think that I’m doing okay and I’m blissfully content with my life being blessed with a job I love, a fantastic, beautiful relationship, a supportive family, and wonderful friends. But I am humbled, and if anything, last week’s events yet again reminded me to strive higher, reach further and never be complacent. While I doubt the Pulitzer is in my future, I think that the credo of continuous self-improvement is a worthy one.

And self-improvement can be found in so many places – for me, normally, it’s finding inspiration around me. And with spring finally, finally, upon us, my mind is brimming with ideas thoughts. Just last week, while perusing my favorite food blogs and contemplating dinner – and all things vegetarian, as I was suffering from a meatover, Heidi of 101Cookbooks provided some of that inspiration.

I’ve long wanted to try and cook quinoa. I’ve heard so many things about it and have been meaning to give it a go, for so long, I’m surprised that with my love for grains I haven’t yet given it a whirl. But when I saw her quinoa bowl recipe, I knew that I found my dinner dish. I made a few changes, modified a few things, but I have to credit her with inspiration – her photography, writing, recipes, and her commitment to cooking with whole, unprocessed ingredients, often stressing organic/local produce, are a constant source of inspiration. Her is not just a love of cooking, but a thoughtful lifestyle approach as well.

Self-improvement, inspiration, reaching higher. Spring is in the air!

March 27, 2007

comfort me with pickle

When it comes to cooking, lazy I am not. And I'm a full believer in those little details, so it's not uncommon for me to run all over Manhattan and beyond to pick out the perfect ingredients for whatever meal I am currently making. Meat at a green market? Herring in Brighton? Locally produced milk at Fairway?

Some people, when they cook, like KS, just see what they have on hand in the kitchen and whip up something. This is how my mother and grandmother have cooked - and they've managed to do plenty with that approach. I, on the other hand, will clip a recipe and make sure I have every ingredient on hand for it. I'll plan to make X on day Y and hold myself to that schedule. Regimented much? Who, me?

And so whenever I get something in my head, particularly when it's a craving of sorts, I can't get it out until I exorcise my demons so to speak and make the dish. For the last two weeks, I've been craving basmati rice with buttermilk and lime pickle - a dish my once-roommate now friend taught to make. I use the term "dish" liberally, as this requires minimal amount of effort, which makes the dish no less tasty, and in my opinion even more satisfying. I've yet to make my first real Indian dish and this suffices for the time being (while I gather my spices - see what I mean with being so particular?)

I've been planning on making this lime pickle by hand, but never being at home (my now ex-apartment) and never raving time to go and pick up asafoetida and other spices, I never got around to it. Of course, I couldn't find lime pickle in stores anywhere and going to Jackson Heights wasn't an option given the schedule. And so I craved, but had to just make do with other food, until I spotted it in Chelsea's Garden of Eden and armed with a jar of Patak's pickle, a carton of buttermilk and a puny, laughable, white-person-sized bag of basmati rice, I rushed home, only to find that KS was making pasta. And then the next night we had pasta leftovers. And the following night we went out to a movie and had sushi beforehand. And so it went.

Until 2 nights ago, when I got home from a busy Sunday, and finally got to make the dish I craved for 14 days beforehand. It didn't help that on Saturday, I watched "The Namesake" and looking at fried samosas on the big screen made me drool a little.

Within 25 minutes of putting the rice on the stove, I was sitting with a bowl of rice, having poured a little buttermilk into the steaming heap and depositing a tablespoon of picked on top of this starchy mountain of bliss. That first spoon was incredible and I all but inhaled my simple, comforting meal.

And it's a little bit amazing to me that despite my love of cooking new things and meticulous attention to detail, the foods that give me most joy and comfort are often the simplest, requiring few ingredients, little exactitude, and a lot of love.

February 13, 2007

channeling sophia loren

Oh but I died and went to heaven! How on earth did I live in New York, think myself a foodie and not know of the wonderful place that Chelsea Market was!! I mean, really, I am terribly embarrassed and feel like I was a fake foodie, like fraud, having missed quite possibly the most wondrous place of them all.

It all started out innocently enough, when I joked about making homemade pasta with the BF. I kept oohing and aahing at the homemade pasta created here and here, and whining to him about having carb envy. I don’t even like carbs that much and here I was, sitting in bed, looking at people’s floury creations and wanting nothing more than a toy of my own. Back in college a friend of mine had a pasta maker and we spent many a night making our own fettucine, drying in on the handmade drying racks he created, and then cooking it up with our own creamy porcini sauce. Our meals were memorable, if only because we would always start cooking at 11pm and wind up eating sometime around 2am. Even back then, our Chianti came from a bottle, not a jug or a box. We were frugal, but we ate well. And ever since then, I wanted a pasta machine of my own.

Well, all my promises of pasta and such did not go unnoticed. The BF, a man who listens as well as he eats, reminded me one weekend of my aspirations. I, promptly did some research and found a fine looking machine on Williams-Sonoma. Still, I had to consult someone who owned one, and so I asked the inimitable Deb on her thoughts. She quickly told me about her model and that she got it at Bowery Kitchen Supplies, which, I’m embarrassed to admit, I thought was located on Bowery. Not in Chelsea Market, of which I’ve never even heard, or probably didn’t remember.

Armed with an address for BKS, the BF and I set out, on what was quite possibly the coldest night we’ve had to date, to purchase the machine and make some pasta. Saturday night, people. To call us nerdy and homebodies would be the ultimate understatement.

When I spotted the building I was excited, but confused. I saw plants in the window, no kitchen things in sight and I thought that we were going to a Home Depot like store. BF warned me that this just might be the kind of place where I lose all sense of grace (as if I had any to begin with) and might have a fainting spell. He wasn’t even close. I had a complete and total meltdown, in that scary, happy way. All these little stores, with all the food stuffs. The seafood place where the lobster looked fresh and succulent. The place with cupcakes so pretty I almost wept, and cookies to commemorate the Super Bowl. The Thai place! The meat place! The place with all the Italian groceries where I went crazy and BF had to restrain me.

“No, of course we need a gallon tub of blood orange pulp! I will make… something out of it!”
”Look at the gigantic bag of porcini mushrooms! If we buy it, it’ll last us 20 years!!!”
“Pizza flour?? Buckwheat flour? Don’t we need it?”
”Lentils!! Do you like lentils? I could make this dish with caramelized onions and lentils, that you’ll love!!”
”Stop, look, there’s a pound of foie gras!! And over there, there’s rabbit.”
”Do you like mascarpone cheese? Because I can make this thing with it, that’s going to be amazing….”

In short, I was dashing madly from one item to the next as if it was my last time buying food. I was excited and almost panicked – what if we never come back here again? I felt as if I was stuck in wonderland, where all my food dreams came true. I never wanted to leave. I could just make a cot somewhere in the corner, by the bread makers and wake up in the morning to the hypnotizing scent of baked bread, my cheek pressed up against the floured glass.

BF could barely tear me away and out of that place. And that was all BEFORE we got to the Bowery Kitchen Supplies, where I almost bought a $300 pasta machine. Why? Because I hadn’t any idea and I figured, since I am buying it once, why not just get the best? Lucky for me, the BF being as practical as he’s diligent talked me out of this crazy notion. And so the pretty Atlas was mine. We barely made it too as the stores were shutting down.

Back at home, I followed the recipe until I got the desired consistency. I covered the bowl and waited an hour to roll. I dried my pasta and waited for it another hour. But when I tried to boil it, it stuck together and I had to manually separate the little guys. First time’s always the hardest. And though the pasta turned out divine in taste, I had to work a bit better to get the look just right. And the next time when we made it last week, the individual pasta pieces were much much better, separate and distinct.

I have plans for ravioli, herb printed pasta, and a vegetarian lasagna that will challenge even the heartiest meat lover. I have this machine now and it must justify its existence to me. And I promised someone to share recipe ideas. After all, I owe her a few good ones, since she’s consistently inspired me to make new dishes.

I’ll leave you with this thought – the advertisement on the pasta machine manual features an attractive woman wearing nothing but pasta. The moral, or rather the suggestion is probably that eating pasta made by Atlas, will render you this svelte and this hot. If this is indeed true, I am going to eat pasta three times a day and much like Sophia Loren, I’ll owe everything to spaghetti.