Comfort (and Convenience) in a Can

Don't get me wrong, I know people are busy. Very busy. I'm pretty busy myself, which makes cooking something decent and nutritious something of a challenge. So I like things that help save me time. Having said that, there are a few convenience foods I don't really understand at all, mostly because it's incredibly simple (and pretty fast!) to make these things yourself. Take balsamic vinaigrette, for instance. It takes 30 seconds to whip up, and all it needs is balsamic, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Maybe some garlic and/or mustard if you feel like it, but that's it. Four ingredients, a few seconds. So why buy it off the shelf, where it's either full of preservatives and unpronounceable ingredients (someone please tell me what xanthum gum is and what it does!) or costs an arm and a leg, and still has shelf stabilizers in it?

The same holds true, for me at lest, of pasta sauce. Unless you get the expensive kinds, chances are you've just bought a jar full of sugar and tomatoes (why most commercial pasta sauces contain sugar, I'll never know. It adds nothing to the flavor, unless you want dessert-y pasta). Pasta sauce takes so little time to make, and it's pretty cheap. You probably have almost all the ingredients lying around your kitchen anyway, if you have a decently stocked pantry. Even if you don't, chances are you have some onion or garlic in your kitchen. So why not put them to good use and make a nice, hearty, old-fashioned bowl of pasta and red sauce tonight?

Basic Pasta Sauce
1 can plain tomato sauce (not a jar--a can of pureed tomatoes. I use Hunt's. Sometimes they contain a little salt and/or herb seasoning. That's fine, as long as there's no sugar.)
1/2 medium onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, diced
5-6 leaves fresh basil or 1T dried
1T fresh oregano or 1 1/2 tsp. dried
1 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

In a saucepan, heat 2 T olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until it starts to get slightly translucent, about 2-3 minutes. Add the garlic and saute another 2 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep the onions and garlic from burning. Turn the heat down a little if necessary.

Add the tomato sauce and stir. Bring the sauce up to a simmer, simmer 3 minutes. Add the herbs, optional pepper flakes, salt, and pepper. Simmer another 2-3 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning.

At this point, you can either toss this on your favorite pasta, or add cooked meat, sausage, meatballs, seitan--whatever you want. Cook through and serve.

The Question of Leftovers

I love leftovers. Especially the ones that can be easily adapted to completely different meals. Case in point: the leftover roasted chicken and sauteed broccoli rape from Sunday was tossed into our pasta last night, along with a couple of tablespoons of pecorino romano cheese. Dinner in 10 minutes!

But sometimes, leftovers leave me a little stumped. Second case in point: the butternut squash risotto I made last week. Risotto's wonderful stuff (and this was a particularly delicious recipe, you should check it out), but it's hard to know what to do with it if you don't have a microwave. Most of the time, I mix leftover risotto with an egg and form it into little pancakes that I then fry off. They make a delicious side dish. But this time, I thought I'd try something different. I think it was the Joy of Cooking that gave me the idea by providing a recipe for quinoa served in an acorn squash. If you can do it with quinoa, why not risotto that's already cooked? And it just so happened I  had an acorn squash from the farm. So, I tossed a little olive oil and seasoning on it, threw it in a 375 oven for a while, scooped the risotto on top, and warmed it through. The result was delicious--the risotto stayed creamy, and the flavors in it played nicely with the squash. The acorn squash not only made for a pretty presentation, it provided a little more food for both of us,  which we needed, just post-workout. So, here it is:

Squash Stuffed with Risotto
Serves 2

1 acorn squash (or other small, similar squash that can be hollowed out), split lengthwise, seeds removed
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
1-1 1/2 cups cooked risotto

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.

Drizzle olive oil over the cut squash, and season with salt and pepper. Place squash cut side up on a baking sheet and roast in the oven for 30-40 minutes, until a fork easily pierces the flesh.

Scoop risotto into the squash, return squash to oven and roast another 10 minutes, until risotto is warmed through.

Remove from the oven and serve--a nice salad or some green beans goes really well with this.

Shopping, European Style

First I discovered the Plainsboro Asian Market, with its amazing selection of highly affordable fish, produce, and specialty ingredients that were hard to find elsewhere. Then Trader Joe's opened, and there was much rejoicing. And now, I have completed my foodie trifecta with my exploration of the Amish Market in Kingston. I am now a very happy girl.

It used to be that I would haul myself off to the local Wegman's every week to do all the food shopping in one go, but recently, I've adopted a more old fashioned--perhaps you could say more European--method of shopping: going to a few different places to get the food where it's best and/or cheapest. I've never loved my local Wegman's. I've tried. I've tried really hard, but I don't love it. It's hideously crowded almost all the time, I've found rotting food in a couple of sections one too many times, and most of the workers don't seem all that happy to be there. Plus, they have major stocking problems, which makes it hard for me to plan any kind of menu or make a list I can rely on. I can count on one hand the number of times in the last 3 years I've gone there and haven't been frustrated in my quest for something relatively basic, like ground lamb or quinoa or cereal. Is Shredded Wheat 'n Bran that popular they can't keep it on their shelves? I don't buy it.

So why did I continue shopping there for so long? Well, unfortunately, the alternatives were...not great. Wegman's does do some things well, like offer loose teas (when the tins aren't empty, which happens more often than not) and their bakery section is quite good. Also good: their organic/natural section. And their prices were lower than a lot of other places. The only other grocery store in the immediate area had higher prices and an organics section that would have been laughable if it wasn't so sad. It was one shelf jammed, oddly, in between magazines and peanut butter. So, I resigned myself to the Wegman's experience.

But then something happened--I moved, and I discovered the Asian market not ten minutes from my doorstep. So, now I no longer had to go to Wegman's for fish and produce--yay! And right near the Asian market was a SuperFresh, which is smaller than Wegman's (read--less cavernous), and much less crowded. Not long after I started shopping there, Trader Joe's opened. I haven't been to Wegman's since.

The one problem is procuring good meat. Trader Joe's has it, but it's a bit pricy, and most of its preseasoned and marinated, which I don't care for. SuperFresh's meat selection--at least its chicken--was heavy on Perdue. But there was that Amish market up the road in Kingston... So, I hopped in the Mini and headed up there as soon as I had a free day, which happened to be this past Saturday. The freezer was starting to get a bit bare--time for a meat stockup.

About an hour later, I staggered out with enough meat to keep us (and probably some dinner guests) going for at least a month. For $50. $50! Not bad at all, really, considering I got a pork loin, ground lamb, a whole chicken, some Italian chicken sausage, spicy horseradish mustard, bacon, porkchops, pork cubes, and beef stewing meat. There's probably something I'm forgetting, but not a bad deal, overall, when you think about it. Especially since that chicken, which appeared on our dinner table Sunday and fed us and two friends, would also provide some chicken stock when boiled down. That market is great--there's a stall for everything, although I wouldn't go for the seafood. Deli meats; everything you could possibly imagine from a cow, lamb, or pig; poultry you wouldn't believe (including ducks and rabbits!); baked goods; dairy; eggs; preserves; fruits and vegetables--it's all there. Some prices are a bit steep, although you shouldn't be surprised at the ones that are (they're not growing oranges on the farms in Pennsylvania Dutch country, after all), but the meat prices are quite reasonable, and, if the chicken and the sausage are anything to go by, it's quite delicious as well.

This is what I do now--shop here and there, wherever I find what I want or need, and you know what? It's started saving me money. I'm not wandering the aisles of some giant supermarket, trying to find where they keep the hummus, being tempted by things as I pass. I have a targeted reason for going to each of the places where I now shop, which makes it faster and easier. Plus, as far as the Amish market goes, I actually feel like I'm supporting people, not a corporation, and I can get on board with that.

In Praise of Trader Joe's

Man, where has this place been all my life?

The much-anticipated Trader Joe's finally opened in Princeton, and I dragged A. there opening weekend to see what all the fuss was about. About an hour later, we staggered out, toting delicious sounding groceries we probably didn't need, grinning like idiots (me particularly), because it looks like I've finally found a way to move Wegman's out of my life completely (it's not that I hate Wegman's, really. Most of them are good, but not the one in Princeton. I've had too many frustrating experiences there.)

I think one of the best things about Trader Joe's is that it proves that healthy, organic food can actually be affordable. I know, I was shocked too. Organic whole wheat pasta for $1.29. Rolls of organic polenta for less than $3. Organic, fair trade coffee for $7.99 (about the same as the non-organic, non-fair-trade coffee elsewhere. And it's all good, too! So why is all this stuff so expensive everywhere else?

I try to eat healthy, like many people. I've been trying to work organic food into our diet as much as possible, but in a lot of cases, the price difference is just too high to justify the purchase. When you're looking at a $1 box of regular pasta and then a $4 box of organic, or whole wheat pasta (to get both in one is usually $5 a box, at least in the places I've checked out) well, it's hard to justify that week after week. It just adds up, and we're on a budget just like everyone else. So, we stick to the organic milk and free-range eggs and hope for the best. But now, hopefully, I can have my organic cake and eat it too. We now have some lovely organic wild blueberries in our freezer I'm hoping to work into some pancakes this morning, as well as the aforementioned pastas, a giant bag of large shrimp, and a package of highly addictive honey-coated plantain chips. Sooooo gooood! If I had to voice one complaint, it would be that the majority of their cereals (at least the ones with a decent amount of protein in them) are very high in sugar. At least it's not high-fructose corn syrup sugar (see, it doesn't have to be in everything!) but sugar nonetheless. I had to search high and low for one with more than 5 grams of protein and less than 12 grams of sugar. But the one I found was still cheaper than what I'd been buying elsewhere.

One more thing I like about this place: it's pleasant. It's not cavernous, the employees seem pretty chipper, and it plays homage to the area where it's located. The checkout aisles are all named after major roads in the Princeton area, and the mural on the walls depicts such Princetonite luminaries as Albert Einstein shopping there. Cutesy, yes, but I like to think that even Einstein would approve of Trader Joe's.

A (Culinary) Salute to Fall

Fall has officially arrived, and I'm doing a little dance of glee even as my coworkers bemoan the sudden downturn in temperature. I'm a fall baby, so maybe that's why I love it so much, or maybe it's the fact that I live in an area that wears fall so beautifully. Either way, the second that crisp edge enters the air, the leaves start changing, and the markets start showing mums, apples, and pumpkins, I get all warm and fuzzy.

The farm's gotten into the swing of things by putting out the first batch of pumpkins, and I gleefully picked one up, thinking: Pumpkin White Bean Stew!

This stew is one of my mother's specialties, and she used to make it for me on Halloween. Believe me, there's nothing quite like coming in from trick or treating, chilled and tired, and being served up a nice bowl of festively orange stew with a side of roasted pumpkin seeds. Bliss!

Pumpkin-White-Bean Stew
1 medium-size pumpkin (try to get one from a farm or farmers' market. They have more flavor than the ones at the grocery store)
5-6 sage leaves
5 stems of thyme
Olive oil
1/2 onion, diced
3/4 tsp cumin seeds
1 clove garlic, diced
1 cup white beans, soaked overnight, or two cans, rinsed
3 1/2 + 1 1/4 cup chicken or vegetable stock, separated 
2 tsp brown sugar
3/4-1 tsp chili powder

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees

Cut the pumpkin into fourths and scrape out all the seeds and guts. Rinse the seeds well and set them aside. Arrange the pumpkin on a baking sheet

Drizzle a tablespoon or two of olive oil over the pumpkin. Cut up the sage leaves and remove the thyme from the stems. Sprinkle both over the pumpkin quarters and season.

Roast the pumpkin 20-25 minutes, until the herbs become fragrant and the flesh just starts to roast. Let cool until you can handle it without burning yourself.

Separate the flesh from the skin of the pumpkin and cut into large dice. Put a quarter of the dice in a saucepan with the 1 1/4 cups of stock and boil until the pumpkin is tender. Puree in a blender and set aside.

Saute the onion, cumin seeds, and garlic in olive oil in a large pot for 3-5 minutes, until the onion starts to get translucent. Add the remaining pumpkin and stock, the brown sugar, and the chili powder. Bring to a boil, lower the heat, cover, and simmer about 15 minutes. Add the soaked beans, recover, and simmer another 10-15 minutes, until beans and pumpkin are tender.

Add in the pureed pumpkin. Taste and adjust seasonings. If you like it sweeter, add more brown sugar or a bit of honey. If you like heat, more chili powder. You get the idea.

**Cook's note: one of the nice things about this recipe is its adaptability. It's great with classic herbs, like sage and thyme, or curry spices, which is what my mother used a lot. Feel free to experiment--chances are, you'll be glad you did.

When Life Hands You Green Tomatoes...

...don't make lemonade. Seriously, it'll taste terrible. You can, however, whip up a pretty good Green Tomato Soup with them.

As I mentioned last week, the farm got hit with late blight, and the only tomatoes that could be saved were the green ones. I'm not a green tomato expert, but I'm definitely not one to shy away from trying to use a new ingredient, and wouldn't you know it, the New York Times had a nice recipe for green tomato soup in its dining section. Perfect!

Being me, I messed with it a little. I threw in a red bell pepper I found getting pruny in my vegetable drawer and substituted plain nonfat yogurt for the creme fraiche in the recipe. Neither change rendered the soup inedible--in fact, it was quite delicious, and a great way to use up some of the unripened tomatoes we're picking ahead of the first frost. The soup's good both hot and cold--on a busy night, you can come home, throw a salad together, spoon up some of the soup (which is actually surprisingly filling and satisfying), and have yourself a nice 10-minute dinner. My favorite kind!

Green Tomato Soup
Adapted from a recipe on the New York Times website


2T unsalted butter
1/2 medium onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced (optional)
1/2 tsp whole coriander seeds
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
4 cups green tomatoes, cored and chopped
1 cup chicken or vegetable stock
salt and pepper to taste
8 tsp plain yogurt (optional)
1T chopped fresh dill
1/2 tsp honey

Melt the butter in a soup pot over medium-high heat. Add onions and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are translucent (3-5 minutes)

While that's cooking, lightly crush the coriander with a mortar and pestle or the side of a knife. Add it to the pot with the garlic and saute for another 2-3 minutes

Add the tomatoes, stock, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until the tomatoes have broken down, about 30 minutes. Feel free to watch an episode of Modern Family while you wait: I hear it's pretty funny.

Using an immersion or standard blender, pulverize the soup until it's nice and smooth

Return the soup to medium heat and add the optional yogurt, dill, and honey. Cook until heated through. Taste and adjust seasonings.

I thought the soup was fine on its own, but the original recipe calls for brioche croutons and bacon sprinkled over the top, so feel free to go nuts. I mean, what isn't improved by adding bacon?

Happy cooking, everyone!

Cheers to the birthday boy!

Well, it was a busy weekend chez nous. A's birthday (his 30th!) was last week, so I suggested a party to celebrate the milestone. Apparently, and I didn't find out about this until later, this was the first time anyone's ever thrown him a birthday party. I'm happy to report that it went pretty well and the birthday boy seemed to have a pretty good time.

Now, when we throw a party, I tend to go a little crazy with all the cooking, and this time was no exception. We had sliders (turkey and veggie), caprese skewers, grilled sausage with peaches and sage, heirloom tomato salsa, pesto potato salad, pecan pie (he is a southern boy after all!) and a carrot cake--A's favorite. I'm indebted to the Joy of Cooking for providing the last two recipes, and Chowhound for the recipe for the delicious and adorable little slider buns. To accompany the feast, we whipped up our Earl Grey MarTEAnis and a pitcher of mojitos. For once, the weather was on our side, which was good, because it's not much fun to run in the rain.

Yes, that's right, run. After a couple hours, we dragged everyone out back for the first ever Martini Relay, inspired by the Chap Olympics that recently took place in London. The rules were simple: our friends divided up into two teams, mixed a martini,  and then carried it on a plate (no holding!) switching off on every lap with a teammate until everyone had run. The last people had to drink the martini, and whichever team finished first won, naturally. To even up the teams, I sat out the first round, but on round two, A and I were pressed into service. My team was doing pretty well until it got to A and I. I was well ahead by the time A got his tray, but he booked it, crossing the finish line and downing what turned out to be a terrible gimlet (we ran out of vermouth after round one) in record time. I made a game attempt, but I was just no match. Still, fun times!

Blighted

Well, the organic farm has thrown in the towel with the tomatoes this year.

When I went yesterday, I was told that sauce and cherry tomatoes were now "gleaning" crops, meaning I could help myself to as many usable ones as I could find. Quality was poor because they'd been hit by late blight.

Boy, had they ever. Under a gray, drippy sky I wandered the rows of dessicated plants sporting rotted out fruit that somehow still clung to the vine, although it dropped off the second you touched it, splotching the ground beneath it. The few baby tomatoes somehow still managing to sprout don't stand a chance.

Someone told me that this is the same strain of blight that caused the Irish Potato Famine in the 1840's. We still haven't figured out what causes it or what to do about it. And walking the fields yesterday, I could get a very, very tiny measure of what it must have been like to go out to your farm in the morning and see your previously healthy plants reduced to this. Very disheartening.

Still, there is a bit of a silver lining. At least tomatoes can be eaten underripe, unlike potatoes. Circumstances like this tend to make you think differently about how you use your produce. Serendipitously, the New York Times ran a recipe yesterday for Green Tomato Soup. Keeping that in mind, I pulled some good-sized green tomatoes off the vines so I can give it a try. The weather's turned rainy and chilly very suddenly out here, perfect weather for soup. I know you can also can and fry green tomatoes, but what else? Any suggestions? I'm wide open to them!

Birthday Burgers

A. had very different food tastes when we first met. As a compulsive gym rat and former competitive weightlifter, his main focus was low fat, high protein. So, he thought canned tuna and a protein shake were perfectly acceptable meals. And then I came along and ruined it. He can't even look at canned tuna anymore, although the protein shakes do reappear every now and then.

I'll admit to being a bit of a gym junkie myself, and I'm all for the high-protein-low-fat diet, so one of the things I introduced A. to early on was the HPLF version of the traditional burger: the turkey burger. Much healthier. And, over the years, I've played with and tweaked the recipe quite a bit, depending on what I have in my fridge. The harissa I picked up in London has been a staple all summer, and I've started adding a hint of chili powder to give the burgers a slight kick at the end. The burgers I made last night, I have to admit, were pretty damn good, which is especially good, because they were the burgers A. specially requested for his birthday. I think it's a recipe I'll keep.

Birthday Burgers

1 lb ground turkey
1/2 onion, diced
1 tsp harissa
1/2 tsp chili powder
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Divide into four pieces. Take each piece and form into a ball. Toss the ball between your hands to really bring the meat together (an old trick I learned from my great aunt when making meatballs. Her meatballs never crumbled in the sauce). Pat each ball down into a patty. Grill until cooked through.

We usually serve these on whole wheat buns with sriracha or, as we did last night, horseradish mustard from our local Amish market. Feel free to pile on the toppings of your choice, anything goes!

Dinner in the Field

Fall is almost here--It's almost palpable. Corny as it sounds, I could feel it in the air when I stepped outside yesterday afternoon. Although it was 80+ degrees, there was the tiniest edge to the air; a slight tang. It'll be here soon enough, and boy, does that make me happy. I love fall. Especially fall in my little corner of the world. Walkable historic towns with Victorian architecture lend themselves beautifully to fall foliage, as do the views of the Delaware River from the New Hope-Lambertville bridge.

On Sunday, A. and I had a pretty unique opportunity to celebrate the coming of the new season: a harvest dinner in the fields at Dreyer Farms in Cranford (another picturesque little town). The dinner was catered by the chef of Boulevard Five72, using produce from the farm. This one dinner was the best possible commercial for both the farm and the restaurant. It's too bad both are more than an hour from where I live, or I'd be there all the time. Then again, for the sake of my bank account, maybe that's a good thing.

First off, the weather actually cooperated, after several days of rain, cold, and gloomy skies. The sun came out, and the temperature went up to the 80's, which meant the sangria served during the cocktail hour were doubly refreshing. Ditto the champagne, which I really can't resist. Passed hors d'oeuvres included smoked salmon tartlets, wonderful polenta cakes with ratatouille (the polenta was perfect--crispy outside, and moist within. My hat is off to them), and sublime tempura-battered green beans. I really, really want to track down a recipe for those and make them for A's birthday party this week.

As the sun set and the mosquitos mercifully stayed away, we moved to the long table that had been set up between rows of basil and salad greens. By chance, I found myself sitting in the midst of the Dreyer family, who have farmed this same plot of land since 1904. Paterfamilias Henry Dreyer, who sat across from me, was a great dinner companion, and we chattered away through all four courses, covering everything from tomato blight to what to do on a visit to Quebec City.

Like the hors d'oeuvres, the main meal didn't disappoint. We moved from a lovely light salad to a prawn served on heirloom tomatoes and watermelon, followed by veal with sweet potato puree and an almond tart with Jersey peaches for dessert. Not a single thing disappointed, and the flavors were lovely. And so were the wines served with each course. Maybe the wines were too good--I did wake up with the slightest headache on Monday morning. Still, definitely worth it. Now, I'm off to try and find that green bean recipe. Wish me luck!

Jersey Fresh Cocktails

Food-wise, I have to say, this past weekend was a good one in our house. And it started, brilliantly, with some excellent cocktails A. and I whipped up on Friday evening to toast the start of the three-day weekend.

I came home from the farm last week with some lovely blackberries, which A. is addicted to. As it turns out, if you like your cocktails tart rather than sweet, a blackberry is a great fruit for it. A. had already made one prototype of a blackberry martini by the time I got home from the grocery store and Asian market, laden with goodies (including the superb clams that became our dinner). His first attempt, while good, was a work in progress. I suggested adding a hint of lime, which I thought would pair nicely with the blackberry flavor. Incidentally, we also had an insane number of limes we had to use up. So, we juiced one, mixed it up, and tried again. Not bad, but now a little too tart, even for me. A little simple syrup set that right, and we had an excellent cocktail.

As he headed out to grill up dinner, leaving me with little more to do in the kitchen than sip my yummy  new drink, A. asked me to mix him a cocktail and to "surprise him". Never one to disappoint, I dove into the fridge and came out with a pint of blueberries from the Asian market and some seltzer water. There were mint leaves soaking in a small jar on the kitchen counter (another contribution from the farm) and some white rum on hand, so I thought I'd give a blueberry mojito a try. A. tried it and pronounced it a success. Both drinks have now joined the Earl Grey MarTEAni in our drinks recipe file.

Blackberry-Lime Martini
5-6 large, ripe blackberries
1 1/2-2 oz vodka
juice of 1/2 lime
1-2 T simple syrup (depending on how tart you want this)

Smash blackberries with a muddler or mortar and pestle. Add smashed berries, vodka, lime juice, simple syrup, and ice cubes to a cocktail shaker.

Shake vigorously for 15 seconds. Strain into a martini glass.

Blueberry Mojito
1/4 cup ripe blueberries
1 1/2-2 oz white rum
1 tsp sugar
6-10 mint leaves
Seltzer water
Ice cubes

Place blueberries, sugar, mint leaves in a highball glass and muddle until the leaves are broken down, the blueberries are juiced, and everything's mixed together (we found that the end of a wooden rolling pin works great for this).  Add ice cubes and rum. Top with seltzer and mix everything together briefly.

Garnish with a mint leaf and enjoy!

Perfect Polenta

One of the things I like most about belonging to our CSA farm is that it essentially forces me to cook according to what's really in season, the way people used to. I'm a history buff, so I enjoy that and occasionally pretend I'm Laura Ingalls Wilder, tramping through the fields to get dinner. It also makes you use your imagination. You have no idea how many different things you can do with a tomato until you have three pounds of heirlooms, plus a pound and a half of cherry tomatoes on your hands.

Last night, I put those tomatoes to good work in a dish that would have made my Italian forbears proud: spicy tomatoes with shrimp and mussels, served over homemade polenta.

Polenta's a wonderful thing, and it's incredibly easy to make, which makes me wonder why the heck I ever spent upwards of $4 on the ready made stuff when I could have just bought $2 worth of cornmeal and made about 20 times as much of it at home. Like pasta, it's versatile and can be served as a side dish on its own, mixed or sprinkled with cheese or jalapenos to give it a kick, or covered with some kind of sauce, like we did last night. You can have it soft, like grits, or let it harden and slice it up to toss on the grill or in a pan. This also makes me feel Laura Ingalls Wilder-ish--what we call polenta she called Cornmeal Mush in her books. I think polenta sounds nicer.

Polenta A La Bree

1/2 onion

1 cup cornmeal (course ground works best)

Olive oil

salt and pepper

1. Saute the onion in the olive oil until it just turns translucent and starts to release its flavor, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly.

2. In a large saucepan, stir together 1 cup of water, the cornmeal, and 1 tsp. salt. Add the cooled onion. Stirring constantly, add 2 cups boiling water.

3. Turn on the burner under the saucepan to medium heat. Cook the polenta, stirring constantly, until it's thickened and comes away from the sides of the saucepan. Taste and season.

**If you like, you can fold in some parmesan or pecorino romano cheese, or sprinkle the cheese of your choice over the top of the warm polenta. Serve warm immediately, or spread in a greased brownie pan and let cool. Cut into slices and grill or saute.

The Best Money Ever Spent

Some months ago, a friend of mine asked if A. and I wanted to split a family share at a local CSA organic farm. It didn't take us long to jump at the opportunity. Organic produce every single week from May to whenever it peters out in the fall for $200? We're in! And it was easily the best $200 we've ever spent. Although the weather's, well, sucked for most of the summer, the abundance of produce has been astonishing. The share is split three ways, and yet we still tend to end up with more food than we can eat (hence my recent canning craze).

The whole idea is great--swing by on your appointed day, toting baskets, clippers, and bags, help yourself to your share of the produce in the farm stand, and then take to the field to collect flowers, fruit, herbs, and more veggies. The raspberries and blackberries are coming into season now, which gives us a little something to dress our cereal up with every morning. It's a great thing; it gives those of us with no time, space, inclination, or talent for gardening all the benefits of fresh-grown produce with almost none of the work. And, it gives me something to look forward to on Wednesdays (our appointed day). I never check the farm's website to see what's on offer--I like to be surprised. Every Wednesday's like Christmas morning now.

In season this week: the aforementioned berries, heirloom tomatoes (mmmmmm), watermelon, and dill, among other things. I grabbed the dill on a whim, I'll admit, and now I'm trying to think of things to do with it. I think I'll do a veggie dip with some plain yogurt and snack on it at work next week. What do you think?

Kashi If You Can

I was pretty entertained the other day when I stumbled across a post on Chowhound that described most Kashi cereals as being designed by a "stern, ascetic, pucker-mouthed wraith" who produces "rabbit-food-like items". Funny? Yes. And also, sadly, true.

Now, the post was actually complimenting the Kashi cereal that seems to be the exception to the rule--their Autumn Wheat cereal, which I will say, is quite lovely and good, although a little on the sweet side for me. On the strength of that cereal, I thought I'd try one of their Go Lean Crunch cereals this week. Its major appeal? High protein content, which is a must in our house (A. and I tend to exercise pretty obsessively).

What I failed to pay attention to, although I should have, was the staggeringly high sugar content in these supposedly healthy cereals. A whopping 13 grams--that's almost as much as there is in Cocoa Puffs! (Interestingly, Cocoa Puffs also has about half the fat of the Kashi cereal I grabbed--1.5 grams vs. 3 grams). As A. said as soon as he took his first bite, "It's like eating caramel corn." For breakfast. With milk. Ick. I don't care where that sugar is coming from, sugar is sugar, and I don't know how lean you're going to be sucking down 13 grams of it every morning for breakfast.

I'm not normally the type to judge a cereal based on aesthetics (I do, after all, eat Shredded Wheat 'n' Bran on a regular basis), but the Go Lean cereal really did look a bit sad. And yes, it does look like rabbit food. Or the sweet feed we used to give to the horses (which is coated in molasses and tastes almost exactly like this cereal. I think I've just figured out where they got this idea from).

Needless to say, I won't be dipping back into the Kashi well. Yes, the protein content is high, but so is everything else. I think I'll stick with my nice, boring Shredded Wheat topped with a few blueberries, thanks!

Canning Craze

It's that time of the summer when the produce starts rolling in faster than we can eat it. We've been especially overrun with tomatoes, despite the blight and crappy weather--not that I'm complaining. The tomatoes we're getting from the farm are fabulous, but I was starting to run out of ways to prepare them. I was having the same problem with all the summer squash we were getting. My solution--tomato sauce, homemade, canned, and put aside for January, when a hot bowl of pasta with yummy summer veg would be most welcome.

So, that was my project on Sunday. While the sauce was simmering, I blitzed up some pesto, using the enormous bunch of basil I got from the farm last Wednesday, and canned that too (waste not, want not!) The sauce turned out beautifully, and I now have five jars of it, sealed and sitting in my makeshift closet pantry, just waiting for those chilly winter days.

Summer Pasta Sauce

1 large summer squash (zucchini or yellow squash)

1 medium onion or 2 small onions, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

4-5 large tomatoes, chopped small

1/2 bell pepper (any color)

your favorite herbs (I used a few leaves of fresh basil and thyme)

Olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a deep saute pan over medium heat. Add enough olive oil to coat the bottom. Add onions and garlic and saute until the onions are just transparent. Add squash and stir. Saute for a few minutes, until the squash just starts to color and cook a little.

Add the tomatoes, stir, and simmer for about five minutes, stirring frequently to keep them from sticking to the pan.

Add the herbs and peppers and simmer the sauce about 5-10 minutes, until it reduces and thickens slightly. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Can in sterilized jars for later use or refrigerate.

**Cook's note: if you don't mind a wetter, slightly thinner sauce, you don't have to bother seeding the tomatoes. If you want your sauce thicker, though, gut the tomatoes before adding them to the sauce***

Cooling Cocktail

As you may imagine, after all the insanity and stress from earlier this week, as A. and I finally headed home on Wednesday evening, I was sorely in need of a nice glass of white wine or a cocktail. I'm not a big drinker, but sometimes, you really just need a little something to unwind with. It was also about 95 degrees outside. Perfect Mojito weather.

A. was only too happy to oblige, and we stopped off for some white rum on the way. We were practically on our doorstep before I realized we didn't have any mint--kind of a problem if you're making a classic Mojito. Neither of us wanted to stop again, so we decided to experiment with what we had. There was a lime and a few lemons in the fridge, and I'd just snatched up a huge bunch of basil from the organic farm. Well, lemon and basil go together...

I left the mixology to A. (who is very good at it) while I raided the fridge for leftovers to scrape together for dinner. He did an excellent job, all things considered. If there's ever a Top Mixologist show on Bravo, he should check it out. I think this is one we'll definitely keep tweaking (I would have liked the basil flavor to come through just a bit more). What do you think? Any suggestions for improvement or favorite drinks of your own?

Lemon-Basil Mojito

4 large basil leaves

2 tsp sugar

1 1/4-2 oz white rum (A. "eyeballed" the rum--probably why I started feeling the drink so quickly, so I'm just going with the classic proportions here)

1 1/2 lemons, cut into quarters

ice cubes

club soda

Cut the pulp from the peel of the 1/2 lemon. Discard peel.

Place basil leaves, sugar, lemon pulp, and lemon quarters in a tall glass. Muddle until the pulp is fairly well squashed

Add rum and ice cubes. Top with club soda.

Comfort Food

We're currently in the middle of a family crisis. My dad's heart, it turns out, is in rather poor shape, a fact that made itself apparent when he passed out in the garden Sunday morning, scaring my poor mother to death and bringing A. and I flying from Princeton to Doylestown Hospital.

We're all lucky, this time. Although dad's tests were a bit worse than expected, the problem is fixable. He's still in the hospital, having some procedures done, but they expect to release him tomorrow, and he's back in good spirits and feeling much better. The whole family is now breathing a collective sigh of relief and, finally, eating a little again.

Its at times like these that you realize the vital importance of comfort food. Last night, post hospital visit, mom, A., my grandmother, and I all went out for dinner. My mother went for the ultimate comfort food--meatloaf. I can't remember the last time she made or ate meatloaf, but there she was, happily inhaling it.

"This is just what I needed," she sighed when the plate was scraped. "Some good, filling comfort food." In an unusual move for me, I too indulged--in a cheeseburger and fries. I never order cheeseburgers and fries, and yet in mere minutes my plate was empty, astonishing A.

"Where did you put all that?" he asked, staring from my plate to his own, which still had half a burger and a full order of fries on it.

The night before, while A loaded the car with our dogs and the suitcase so we could stay with my mother in PA, I whipped up a quick order of another major comfort food (for me at least): pasta. A plate of ziti with some fresh summer veg, leftover roasted chicken from the night before, pepper, and a little parmesan cheese. Quick, easy, nourishing, and yes, comforting.

Consolation Pasta

(serves 2)

1/4 lb pasta of choice (I used ziti, but anything will do)

5 cherry tomatoes, quartered or 1 tomato, seeded and diced

1/2 fresh zucchini or other summer squash, cut in half and sliced into half moons

1/4-1/2 cup cooked chicken

Parmesan to taste

pepper to taste

Boil pasta according to package directions, stirring occasionally to keep it from clumping together.

Drain, retaining a tablespoon or two of the cooking water.

Return pasta to the pot with the cooking water. Add zucchini, chicken, and tomatoes. Stir to combine. Add pepper and parmesan to taste and stir to combine. Serve.

The Tomato Extravaganza

Despite the blight and the uncooperative weather, tomato season has come to New Jersey, and Restaurant Serenade in Chatham celebrated with their annual Tomato Extravaganza. As a major perk of the job, A. and I scored seats at the press table for the dinner, which was fabulous.

I'd been meaning to try Serenade for a while--their menus sound amazing, and I wasn't disappointed. The five-course meal kicked off with tomato cocktails (we tried the tomato water with, presumably, spicy vodka, which was interesting. What the heck is tomato water, anyway?) and some little bites before progressing to amazingly velvety corn soup, halibut, fried green tomatoes, little bison burgers, and a particularly inventive tomato bread pudding with an outstanding basil ice cream--quite the inventive take on the traditional tomato basil salad.

To my (kitchen nerd) delight, I got to chat with the chef/owner before the dinner, and in doing so I learned a couple of things:

1. The cold, wet weather has played hell with the tomatoes. Apparently, hot, sunny days are needed to get great, sweet, ripe tomatoes. Even the ones that ripened properly have a watery flavor this year. I had no idea.
2. This unfortunate situation required a complete overhaul of the evening's menu. A last-minute overhaul, by the sound of it. Apparently, in years past, the tomatoes have been the star of the show, but this year they were relegated to more of a supporting player role because the flavor wasn't all there. No matter, everything was still delicious, and I loved the gazpacho served in a small, hollowed-out tomato that served as a side for one of the entrees.

As a bonus, the farmer who grows Serenade's tomatoes (and peaches, and...well, almost all their produce, really) was on hand to answer diners' questions in a dessert-time Q&A. I learned more about tomatoes and cutting back peach trees during that 20-minute session than I thought I ever would. Maybe someday I'll put it to good use and manage to keep a plant alive for a change. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?

Quick and Easy Does It

Thankfully, the fajitas went better than the scallops.

On the occasional Sunday, I volunteer with a local animal shelter, handling a dog when they do adoptions at the pet store down the road. I love doing it, I really do, but it is surprisingly tiring. Yesterday, they sent an adorable puppy named Josie, who was great, but rambunctious, so I was more zapped than usual by the time I dragged myself home. Fortunately, I had an easy dinner planned.

Last week, I tried out my magazine's recipe of the month: a grilled Southwest-style beef, marinated in spices and lime juice. It was quite delicious, and there was plenty left over for fajitas. I grabbed some whole-wheat wrappers when I went food shopping Friday (a more difficult process than you'd think--I found myself standing in the aisle, holding three different types of whole wheat fajita wrapper, trying to figure out which one was the healthiest. I went for the one with the most recognizable ingredients).

I had some kidney beans in the cupboard, so I sauteed some onions and jalapenos with them and mashed the whole thing up to make a sort of refried bean. It tasted slightly bland, even with salt, so I added a little chili powder and a squeeze of fresh lime. Much better. As for the meat--that just had to be heated through, with some onions, jalapenos, and sliced green peppers from the organic farm. A little shredded cheese, some chopped Jersey tomatoes, and warmed fajita wrappers and we had a very satisfying dinner in under 20 minutes. The best kind!

Scallop Stumped

I need to work on my scallop recipe.

For some reason, I had an inexplicable urge to make scallops this weekend. Maybe it's the fact that I've finally found somewhere to buy nice, fat, fresh ones for less than $15 a pound (the amazing Asian grocery store less than 10 minutes away in Plainsboro--one of my new favorite food stops). I don't make scallops often. In fact, I can't remember the last time I did them, but I had made up my mind, and yesterday I got my hands on eight plump, ocean-smelling beauties.

In the summer, I tend to lean towards light flavors when I cook. Acids like lemon and lime, and lots of fresh herbs, which, I'm proud to say, I've managed to keep alive in a small planter on our front porch. I know scallops have a pretty delicate flavor, so my plan was to marinate them in some olive oil, lemon juice, and sage and serve them with a nice gremolata (a finely minced combination of parsley, herbs, garlic, and lemon zest).

Sorry to say, it wasn't my greatest success. For one thing, I think I marinated the scallops for too long. And the gremolata tasted bitter, no matter what I did to try and tamp that particular flavor down. I thought cooking down the marinade and using it as a sauce might help, since the acid would cut the bitter taste. Well, that was a mistake. All I tasted was acid. It overwhelmed the delicate flavor of the scallops and hit my stomach like a lemony spike. Luckily, I did a caprese salad as a side dish, and both A. and I shoved the tomatoes aside and inhaled the mozzarella instead. The white wine we were drinking, though nice, didn't help with the acidity hit either.

Oh well, you live, you learn. Now I know to go a little easier on the lemon next time, use all herbs instead of parsley, maybe. This is how you figure out what works and what doesn't--and that's what intuitive cooking is all about. Hopefully tonight's fajitas will go a little better!

Who Can't Cook?

A startling number of my friends claim they can't cook. I'm not sure I buy it. I have yet to meet anyone in real life who doesn't know how to turn on an oven or a stove and put a pot in or on it. Know how to boil water? Toss in an egg or some pasta--you're cooking!

I think what people who say they can't cook actually mean is that they don't know how ingredients go together. They don't know how flavors work together. They've got the basic fundamentals, but they don't know how to take the next step, look at what they have in the refrigerator, and make a full meal out of it. That can be tough, and intimidating. It takes practice. I used to be in awe of my mother when I was young, because she could do that, and because I watched and helped her do it, once I moved out of my parents' home, I could do it too. My roommates were amazed!

That's intuitive cooking, to me. Looking at a few ingredients, grabbing the ones that go well together, tossing them in a pan, and putting it on a plate. I do it almost every day--rarely do I use an actual recipe (except when baking, but that's a whole other thing). Of course, to be able to do this, you have to know what all the ingredients taste like, which means you have to eat. A lot.

Eating, sadly, has been stigmatized in this country. Unlike in France, where food is a sensual experience, or Italy, where it's all about nourishment and family, here in the US food has, for many years, been looked at askance. It makes us fat! No it doesn't. Too much junk food makes you fat. Good food--fresh food--is a good thing.

Happily, it seems that Americans are starting to come around on the idea of food. There are trainee foodies everywhere, and God knows how many food blogs, so there's hope yet. I'm happy about that, because food has put up with so much abuse--coming out of cans for decades, bizarre flavor combinations--that it's about time fresh food started being appreciated again. It's no longer impossible to find a nice cut of meat or a great farmers' market (at least in NJ, where I live). Food is cool again, and I'm hoping it won't be long before even the most die-hard 'can't cooks' jump on the bandwagon and start experimenting with quinoa and jicama (though maybe not together). When they do, I hope one or two of them will invite me over.

Bon appetit!