Thanksgiving leftovers, part one (sandwiches)

I've been a bit lax about posting new recipes lately, mostly thanks to lack of appetite and energy. But seeing as yesterday was Thanksgiving and I had the patience and stamina to prepare a huge feast for just two and a half people, I figured I should share some of my rather tasty leftover tips.

I've never been big on leftover turkey - always dry and boring, right? Well, since I started braising my Thanksgiving turkey I've discovered that turkey leftovers can, in fact, be a good thing. A very good thing, even. But turkey salad sandwiches get dull about halfway through the first sandwich, and there are still only so many things to do with the leftover meat. Here, however, are a few of my favorites.

Turkey, bacon, and guaccamole sandwich. A delicious twist on the classic club. Layer thick slices of juicy white meat with a couple strips of bacon and a healthy schmear of guaccamole. Not the store-bought fluffy green stuff, mind you. Please be kind to your tastebuds and make your own. It's incredibly simple. Just mash up 3 medium avocados with the juice of a lime, 3 cloves of minced garlic, a diced roma tomato, and salt and pepper to taste. Make sure to let it stand in the fridge for at least 15 minutes before eating (overnight is best, though). Your tortilla chips will thank you, too.

Stuffing. Leftover stuffing makes the best sandwiches, especially if it's homemade. Give it a try - spread on some cranberry sauce (sauce, not the jelly stuff). Turkey is optional.

Roasted garlic turkey salad. Use a puree of roasted garlic and olive oil instead of mayo in a basic turkey salad recipe. Stir in some diced pear and a dash of cumin and you've got one heck of a sandwich.

Cranberry wasabi. Blend a touch of wasabi paste with cranberry sauce and add turkey. The 'cool' spice of wasabi adds a nice zing and will even help clear out stuffy sinuses if you find yourself, like so many others, afflicted with a cold this holiday season.

Enjoy something a little different for leftovers this year, and look for Thanksgiving leftovers - part two (soups), coming soon.

French onion, an old classic.

French onion soup is so awesome. I had a great bowl last weekend in Santa Fe at that adorable little French cafe at the La Fonda, and have been a bit obsessed with the stuff since (I blame the hormones). I ate an entire pot - about 2 quarts - yesterday all by myself. It did take me most of the day, but I ate it and it was delicious. And even today, I still want more. So while my onions saute, I've decided to post my own simple recipe for this delicious and easy classic. The difference in quantity between the butter and the margarine is due to the water content that makes margarine spreadable, and for a rich broth extra boullion is used. Most of the ingredients are already in your kitchen, and old baguette makes the perfect garnish, as it will be rock-hard, perfect for sponging up delicious broth without turning to starchy mush.

Great easy dish for a cold day or great homemade lunch without having to run to the grocery store. This soup needs no sandwich accompaniment, and is hearty and filling as-is.

Note: I don't recommend using oil instead of butter or margarine. The butter greatly affects the rich taste of the soup, and would be drastically changed if using oil instead. If you're concerned about cholesterol, use a good quality margarine instead. Also, don't try reducing the amount of fat. The onions will be dry, burn easier, and will not become as soft. It's fatty, yes, and it's just one of those dishes that needs to be that way.

Classic French Onion Soup

2 average-sized yellow onions (about 2 1/2 inches in diameter)
1/2 c margarine or 1/3 c salted butter
6 cups hot water
7 1/2 t beef boullion granules (or 7 1/2 cubes or sachets)
sliced 3 day-old baguette
sliced Emmenthal, Jarlsberg, or other Swiss cheese

Slice onions no more than 1/4 inch thick (a mandoline makes quick work of it); melt butter in a very large saucepan and add onions. Saute on low heat for about half an hour, stirring every 5 minutes. Onions will be very limp, slightly browned, and have no crunch left when done. Add water and boullion; bring to a simmer and remove from heat. Serve into bowls, top with baguette slices (about 3 per bowl) and sliced cheese, enough to generously cover baguette. Broil or microwave bowls (make sure your dishes are oven safe if broiling) until cheese is melted. Serve, and don't forget to warn diners to be careful of very hot dishes!

Note for celiacs: substitute gluten-free baguette and make sure the boullion is gluten-free. If you cannot eat dairy use a non-dairy margarine, but I do not recommend non-dairy cheese. Instead skip the cheese and turn your baguette into buttery toasted croutons instead.

Irish food.

I have to declare myself disappointed in Epicurious.com's Going Global feature on Irish cooking. I have found past international features to be comprehensive and truly characteristic of a particular country's cuisine. However, their collection of "innovative and modern" Irish recipes by chef Paul Flynn sorely disappoints. There is not a single really Irish dish among them. I realize that Irish cuisine has suffered its hardships since the potato famine, but today there are a great number of cooks, both professional and otherwise, who serve up real Irish fare without all that frou-frou nonsense. And simply taking ingredients from Ireland and throwing a bunch together does not constitute Irish food.

I never thought I'd say this, but shame on you, Epicurious.

About tea.

One can never have too many different teas; I have well over 30, though I've lost count, and they take up an entire shelf in my large cupboard. I started to really appreciate the finer points of tea while pregnant with my daughter, now 3 - it's amazing what 9 months without a cocktail will do to you. Appreciating tea is much like appreciating fine wine and spirits. Today I came across Uncle Lee's Tea, and their gunpowder green looked too tempting to pass up.

Gunpowder is a lovely smoky loose tea; the leaves are rolled into little balls before processing (the Chinese call it pearl tea). This supposedly helps it retain better flavor than regular tea. Uncle Lee's brand of gunpowder comes in a vaccuum-sealed brick, inside a can, inside a box - an awful lot of packaging for a small bag of tea, but it makes a difference. When you open the bag it smells really fresh, almost grassy, much the way I imagine fresh tea leaves smell before processing. I've rarely come across teas this fresh, except some brought over by Chinese friends. When brewed it produces a rich golden-colored tea with delicate toasty-smoky flavors and a pleasant strong aftertaste that's not at all bitter. This is just what green tea should be, and Uncle Lee's Tea delivers a beautiful cup of mid-to-high-grade tea at a price that is very reasonable (a little over $7).

But why is green tea called green? All teas come from the leaves of the same plant (the tea plant) - but the 'color' of the tea (white, green, black) denotes the age of the leaves when picked for processing. White are the young, tender leaf buds, and their brew has a very delicate, aromatic, and never bitter flavor; green are still young and have a delicate flavor but can become bitter easily if brewed too long (low-grade greens always brew bitter teas no matter the timing); black are fully matured leaves with rich, full flavor, and make up the characteristic English and European teas such as Earl Grey. Each stage of tea leaf and type of tea is also processed differently. There is a leaf sometimes called red tea, but this is in fact not from the tea plant. It comes from an African bush called rooibos; the leaves produce a sweeter, rich tea and contain no caffiene. The more mature the tea leaf, the higher the caffiene content.

Note: White and green teas should produce golden-hued brews, so be wary of any green tea that makes green-colored tea.

45-Minute Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup)

More pregnancy cravings. I have to admit I had some pretty icky ones when pregnant with my daughter - Big Macs, anyone? This time around my tastes are considerably more refined, if a bit far-flung. I've gone through matar paneer, Creole food, and homemade butternut squash ravioli, not to mention a comprehensive culinary tour of Asia. Last night just as I was dozing off, I realized I simply had to have a hot, steaming bowl of pho. Since a dinnertime jaunt to Viet Nam (or any decent Vitenamese restaurant) was out of the question, I took an afternoon trip to my favorite market today, and spent the evening in the kitchen.

I really, really, really like soup. Any kind of soup. Even when I'm not pregnant. I think God, Siddhartha, and Mohammed all got together one day and decided to create the perfect food. And on the sixth day, there was soup, and they saw that it was good.

But what is pho? A rich beef soup with chewy rice noodles of the sort often used in Thai soups. Tasty toppings abound and include sliced beef, Thai basil, chiles, and scallions. It's traditionally eaten for breakfast or lunch, but is good hearty fare any time of day. If you've never tried Vietnamese food, this is the dish to start with. The ingredients are available pretty much anywhere, and it is not spicy and contains no really exotic or potentially offensive flavors. The traditionally Asian flavors of ginger, fish sauce, and star anise in the broth are very mild and take a backseat to rich, hearty beef. It is said that good pho broth needs to simmer at least 24 hours; Mai Pham's recipe takes only about 2 hours, and is very, very tasty. I do make it her way often enough, but if you have considerably less than 2-3 hours to put on a filling, delicious, and fairly impressive meal, try it this way:

45-Minute Pho
serves about 6

This recipe is gluten-free, but I know you celiacs know to check your stock and fish sauce labels just to be safe.

3 quarts good quality beef stock, broth, or boullion
2 3-inch pieces of ginger root, halved lengthwise and then cut into 1-inch chunks
8 star anise pods, toasted
5 whole cloves, toasted
1 pound of top sirloin, frozen
1 16-ounce package of rice stick noodles (the narrow, linguine-sized variety)

TOPPINGS (use any or all, more is better):
4-6 baby bok choy, leafy parts only, sliced
6 whole Thai chiles, sliced into thin rings
8-10 sprigs of Thai basil, leaves torn
3 scallions, finely sliced
1 pound bean sprouts
1/3 cup chopped cilantro
1 lime, cut into 6 wedges
hoisin or plum sauce
Sriracha (hot chile sauce)

Combine broth, ginger, and half of the sirloin (in one whole piece) in a stock pot and bring to a boil. Boil 5 minutes, skimming off any foam or impurities from the beef. Tie the star anise and cloves into a spice bag (or cheesecloth or muslin) and add to the stock. Simmer 40 minutes, covered, occasionally skimming if needed. Place noodles in lukewarm water and soak for 30 minutes. Slice the other half of the frozen sirloin into paper-thin slices with a very sharp knife and set aside to thaw. Other toppings can be prepared while noodles soak and broth simmers. Arrange toppings for serving; they look very pretty in piles on a large serving platter (except for the sauces).

When noodles are done soaking, heat your soup bowls by filling them with boiling water left in until serving time. Keep broth simmering through the last steps. Remove sirloin from simmering broth and cut into paper-thin slices and set aside with the raw beef. Bring 2-3 quarts of water to a boil in a large pot, enough to immerse noodles in. Once boiling, toss noodles in and cook very quickly, usually only 30 seconds or so, until cooked but still chewy. Drain noodles and empty water from bowls; divide steaming noodles into bowls and top with cooked and raw beef slices. Ladle on simmering broth and serve. Add any desired toppings at the table.

How to (traditionally) eat pho: Toppings, as many as you like, go anywhere on top, but sauces go to one side or the other of the bowl. Use chopsticks for the noodles and a Chinese spoon for the broth. Alternate between bites of noodles and toppings, and sips of soup. If you're totally hopeless with chopsticks you can use a fork, but don't twirl your noodles up like an Italian. In Viet Nam, good manners dictate that you slurp them from the bowl.

A note on chiles and basil: If you can't find fresh Thai (or 'bird') chiles, the dried ones will do. To use these, trim off both ends, rinse the inside to remove as many seeds as possible, and then soak in warm water for 30-45 minutes. For the basil, don't substitute common sweet basil for Thai (also called holy basil). You can substitute mint instead, or leave it out altogether.

Ravioli

I've always been a huge fan of ravioli. There seem to be endless varieties that satisfy any palate, and it's really pretty easy to make from scratch. Honestly. What I find so fascinating about it is the way pairing sauces and fillings is really a science. Favorites I've tried in the past include a portobella ravioli with smoked cheese sauce (unbelieveable stuff), standard cheese filling with a nice light, zesty, meatless marinara, Italian sausage with meat sauce, and lobster in cream sauce. One of my real favorites, however, is butternut squash ravioli. I've had it in a pretty standard, run-of-the-mill cream sauce, but this time around I've gone with a lemon cream sauce that I think better complements the sweet, slightly spiced richness of the squash filling. The Chelsea Grill actually serves it in a cider broth that I'm told is very good, but that's just not my thing. Also delicious with the standard brown butter sage sauce.

On the menu this week

After I got over my cravings for Indian, Creole, and frozen pizza (UGH! "Frozen pizza? NEVER."), I moved on to stuffed pastas. Last night I was in such a bad state that I actualy nuked a Healthy Choice cheese manicotti dinner and had to settle for the syrupy sauce, mass-produced pasta, and gluey ricotta filling of the kind that could only come in a black plastic dish. To my pregnant tastebuds, it was kind of tolerable, but I would normally never settle for something like that when all the ingredients for fresh cheese tortellini are in my kitchen already. This got me thinking about why I was aparently too lazy to make fresh pasta, and then I realized it was because I HAVE NO PASTA MACHINE.

Don't get me wrong, I think the electric ones are a total crock. But what I'm talking about are the stainless steel, clamp-on-the-counter, hand-cranked variety that turn out beautiful fresh dough with slightly less effort and slightly more consistent results than doing it by hand. I immediately found one online and made my partner order it for me. However, since it will take about a week to arrive by standard ground shipping, I will be forced to hand-roll a small batch of dough to get me through until then.

So for this week, I am making homemade tomato sauce from fresh roma tomatoes, ratatouille (the recipe I found was in fact adapted from the one that was created for the adorable movie of the same name, which is in my opinion the best movie Disney or Pixar has ever made), butternut squash ravioli in a lemon cream sauce (MMM!), cheese tortellini, and something with fresh green chile (probably chili and maybe a nice tortilla soup) to commemorate my last chile season in New Mexico.

Food For Thought: Boys and Girls

Why is it, do you think, that while most of the people you know who are really great cooks are generally women, most of the professional chefs out there are men? And no, I really don't count Miss Yum-O. I can count on one hand (or maybe just a few fingers) the number of successful female professional chefs I've heard of, while the list of male ones is pretty much endless.

A few words on dairy, part two.

I really do like dairy products. I was allergic to milk for the entirety of my early childhood years, and when I finally outgrew the allergy (which I'm told will probably come back later in life), I went nuts. When I was a kid, we didn't have all the great dairy substitutes we have today. I used to have to eat my cereal with juice, as soy milk was pretty much unheard of. So when I was finally able to eat dairy products again, it was something of a novelty, and I've been a nut for anything milk-related ever since.

Lately, since my accidental butter making session one day (the cream didn't whip, it just turned solid!), I've had an odd interest in making fresh dairy products at home. Sure, I've always made the occasional batch of homemade ice cream, but nothing more. So when I recently came across instructions for making homemade yogurt, I was impressed by how easy it seemed. Fresh yogurt, without all the thickeners and preservatives and nasty things I don't want to feed my children, born or unborn - it can't get much better than this!

Truly, it does not get much better. My first batch of yogurt finished incubating a couple of hours ago, and I was absolutely delighted with the results. While not as thick as commercial yogurts, it is smooth, velvety, and CREAMY. Really creamy. The creamiest yogurt I have ever tasted. Seriously, I can't emphasize the creaminess enough. Even my partner, who is incredibly picky about anything dairy (it's not good enough unless it's Dutch, apparently) was impressed and proclaimed it far superior to any American store-bought yogurt he'd ever tasted. Go me! Homemade yogurt also gives you the ability to control the tartness of the finished product. The longer it incubates, the tangier it becomes. Personally, I like a medium yogurt, not quite as tart as some commercial brands (like Brown Cow). And not only does it taste great, but it's unbelievably economical as well. All it takes is milk (whole, lowfat, or skim, whichever you prefer) and a little yogurt to use as a starter culture, about a quarter cup per quart of milk. The whole batch I made (a whopping 2 quarts) cost less then $2.50, and is totally free from gelatin, food starch, and other icky fillers. Great way to save on organic yogurt as well - just use organic milk.

A few words on dairy, part one.

I love Indian food. My favorite dish, hands down, is matar paneer, or curried peas and cheese. It's not the traditional overpowering yellow curry that some might think of; the fresh peas and mild cheese are wonderfully balanced with just the right note of fragrant spices, fresh tomatoes, and yogurt. It's available where I live in canned (Jyoti brand) or frozen (Amy's Kitchen) form, but as with anything, homemade is much better. The only obstacle in making matar paneer, really, is the paneer (mild, firm Indian cheese). It's not the sort of thing you can buy, unless you're very lucky. A former coworker of mine had made paneer from scratch for a potluck once, and she described the process to me. Having since forgotten the details, I looked around online and found a plethora of sites giving pretty much the same instructions. I won't go into details here, because if you Google "how to make paneer cheese" you'll be inundated with results. Or you can just go here for the best (illustrated) instructions I found. Also great fun to make with young children - my daughter, Maya, loves 'helping' in the kitchen and had a blast with this one. Makes a very cool science lesson for school-aged children as well, and company will always be impressed that you made your own cheese. And all it takes is whole milk, and a little lemon juice or white vinegar.

But what to do with your homemade cheese? There are the traditional Indian dishes, but I know enough people who really don't care for Indian food (two of them live in my house). So for the less Asian-inclined, here are a few creative uses I've discovered myself:

• Use in place of fresh, whole-milk mozzarella in lasagna and other recipes. Just keep in mind that paneer does not melt, so if it's gooeyness you're after, stick with the mozzarella.
• Slice and layer with fresh sliced tomatoes, basil, and a little olive oil, salt and pepper for a delicious first course, light lunch, or summertime snack.
• Chunk up on a salad. Goes great with baby field greens, cucumber, avocado, and even a few shrimp if you like, tossed with a light vinaigrette (balsamic is a bit strong - try something with red wine vinegar instead). Avoid creamy and/or strong dressings, which overpower the delicate flavors of the cheese and avocado.
• Cube and add to a homemade tomato bisque. The light, creamy taste perfectly complements tomatoes, and the nonmeltingness (is that a word?) is ideal for hot dishes that need a little more texture.
• Grilled cheese sandwiches. Brush bread with olive oil and stack with sliced paneer. Grill on an actual grill for best flavor, or in a heavy skillet til golden. Particularly good with Jewish rye or another strong-tasting bread, as the cheese lets the flavor of the bread shine through while adding a marvelous note of sweetness. Slip in a couple fresh basil leaves before serving if desired.
• Just eat it. My three year-old's favorite way to enjoy paneer; chunk it up and enjoy.

I'm sure there are a thousand more things you could do with it, but I'm out of ideas for now. Come up with a few yourself, and let me know what they are!

A cure for the common Warcraft addiction.

I've been so busy in my kitchen the last couple of days I've all but forgotten about World of Warcraft. I couldn't even tell you right now what level my night elf druid is. Instead, I could ramble on about homemade cheese and yogurt, Creole food, and (hold your breath) Thai iced tea. The last is my proudest accomplishment this weekend. Forget that I made half a gallon of the creamiest, most delicious yogurt you've ever tasted. Never mind that there's a vat of red beans and rice, Leah Chase style, waiting in the fridge for tomorrow night's supper. And that jambalaya? A thing of the past. Sure, it's GOOD, but I have not been waiting ages to taste some only to find it's even better than I ever could have remembered.

Now the Thai tea - that's a whole other story. Thai iced tea has been my favorite iced drink ever since my first sip at Lemongrass in Las Cruces over 8 years ago (yeah, I actually remember when and where. It's that freaking good). I couldn't get enough. The tea is lightly and sweetly spiced with cinnamon, vanilla, cloves, and most notably (but not noticeably) star anise. It's rather heavily sweetened and usually tinted with a touch of red food coloring to give that signature reddish orange hue. Then it is poured over ice and topped with a generous amount of either half and half or evaporated milk, and is usually a rich sunset of pale peach to deep, burnt brown-orange when served (the trick is pouring in the milk very slowly so it stays mostly on top, tea on bottom. Sadly, you stir up this work of art before drinking). I once saw a beautiful glass of fresh Thai tea sitting on the shelf of a small Buddhist altar in my favorite Thai restaurant, Dodge City's little-known Thai Angel (no idea if it's still around, but they serve the best Thai food I have ever eaten. Two words: Angel Wings). My only gripe with Thai tea is that no cokbook I've ever come across will tell me how to brew the tea itself; they all simply give instructions for assembling the finished beverage. The closest I ever came was in Victor Sodsook's True Thai, which gave a vague mention of it being spiced mainly with star anise. This is, to this day, the only reason that spice resides in my kitchen.

Anyway, while surfing CHOW during a random bout of insomnia and yogurt-making tonight, I came across a recipe for Thai- and Vietnamese-style iced coffee, and it got me to wondering if they had a recipe for Thai tea. They did, and I immediately rushed to the kitchen and made some in my spiffy Mr. Coffee Iced Tea Maker. I don't actually use this appliance for iced tea all that often - generally I just brew hot in it, as it makes a really lovely pot of strong hot tea without my needing to attend to anything. Anyway, I brewed it hot and stuck the pitcher in the fridge to chill, but not before I thoroughly spoiled myself with a fresh glass over ice, topped with that customary rich, creamy swirl of half and half. It was better than I could have imagined. The black teas I had on hand worked perfectly with the blend of spices, and I was immediatey transported to another galaxy. Fellow Thai tea lovers, you know what I'm talking about. This is not the kind of beverage you can enjoy halfheartedly. For those of you who have never had the pleasure, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! Make some now. You can thank me later.

NOTE: All recipes linked to in this post are gluten-free. If making the Creole jambalaya or red beans linked above, be sure to check your sausage and ham labels for gluten!

Pregnancy cravings

I know, this is a food blog, and you expect recipes, but I must digress for a moment.

Pregnancy is tough business. There's nothing normal about a pregnant woman. Right now I have more pimples than I did in high school (ok, not quite, but pretty close) in places where I didn't even know you could get them. Between the morning sickness and the heartburn I have too much trouble getting a decent night's sleep. Most mornings all I can choke down are some dry saltines, sometimes with peanut butter, and we won't even go into what's happened to my sex life the last couple months (horrible first trimester, when will you be over?!). But the worst part? I can honestly say it's the cravings. With my daughter I craved Big Macs and Spaghetti O's. That I could deal with. They're easy to come by and require no effort on my part. After all, that's what the man is able to help out with during pregnancy. They fetch, and though they complain, they're good at it and more than obliging. Mine even brings me things that I've previously craved without me even asking, like McDonalds double cheeseburgers (but I need to explain to him at some point that hese cravings are kind of a one-time thing right now).



This time around, however, I crave the weirdest, most varied foods that are usually impossible or difficult to purchase ready-made and require hours of effort on my part to prepare. And the cravings do not just go away if I don't eat whatever my hormones demand. Oh no, they linger until I manage to find the time and energy to make, say, Eggs Benedict in the middle of the night. Or they stick around til I finally fire up the grill and make just the right burger with bacon, cheddar, sliced tomato, grilled sweet onion slices, ketchup, relish, and mustard (yes, I really do demand tomato AND ketchup on a burger. Don't judge me).



What is it today, you might wonder? Matar paneer (Indian curried peas and 'cottage' cheese).

A note for celiacs.

My mother has pretty severe celiac disease, and in many years of learning to cook gluten-free, I've become very conscious of the gluten intolerant. Thus I have endeavored to keep this blog as celiac-friendly as possible by labeling my posts with the following keywords for easy lookup:

• Gluten-free: no wheat, rye, barley, or oats
• Gluten-friendly: easily adaptable for celiacs without sacrificing taste or quality.

That way, by clicking on the keyword, you can easily pull up all recipes I've tagged as gluten-free or friendly. Not every recipe will be, but I will make suggestions for suitable changes where appropriate.

Note that some externally linked recipes may not be gluten-free. This will be specified at the end of each post.

I really, really love soup.

I really do love soup. This one was originally intended to be something rather different, more of a pureed carrot soup with some of the stewed tomatoes, but it kind of evolved as I went and I'm quite happy with the results. The rice and mashed (instead of pureed) vegetables make it a little heartier, and the honey adds just a touch of flavor without adding sweetness. Also equally tasty without tomato. Gluten-free.

Roasted carrot and vegetable soup

1/2 pound baby carrots
1 zucchini, halved lengthwise
1 japanese eggplant, halved lengthwise
6 cloves of garlic, one end trimmed off
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 cups chicken broth
1 tablespoon honey
scant 1/2 cup stewed tomatoes
1 cup cooked leftover rice (preferably jasmine)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Combine vegetables, garlic, and olive oil in a small roasting pan. Cover pan with foil; roast vegetables 45 minutes. Cool veggies until cool enough to handle; scoop zucchini and eggplant pulp from the skins. Remove garlic from its peel, and mash veggies and garlic together. Toss into pan, add chicken broth and honey, and simmer 5 minutes to blend the flavors. Remove from heat; stir in tomatoes and rice, and serve.

I love soup.

I've been very interested lately in the combination of sweet and savory, particularly in combining the two to create dishes that are uniquely both. This tomato nectarine bisque is a pretty solid example - savory chicken broth, white wine, roasted garlic, and sweet tomatoes and nectarines combine to create a soup that is beautifully, refreshingly sweet, while still maintaining just enough of a rich savory body. I use the term "Soup Nazi soup" for this recipe. I have long loved making unique soups and sandwiches (and will someday open a little cafe in Amsterdam or Haarlem to feed my creations to the world), and to date, this bisque is definitely my masterpiece. A rich red wine instead of white might make an interesting change of pace if I ever get bored with this. Completely celiac-friendly.

I really need a better camera and better dishes if I'm to make decent food porn.


Tomato and nectarine bisque with roasted garlic

1 T extra virgin olive oil
1 nectarine, quartered and finely sliced
1/3 c good German Riesling or other very sweet white wine
1 head roasted garlic, mashed
1 1/2 cups stewed tomatoes
1 cup chicken broth
1/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup whole milk*

(note: I used milk and cream because I was low on cream; you could use 1/3 cup of cream instead of the combination)

Saute nectarine in olive oil on medium heat until soft. Mash nectarine in pot; add garlic and combine thoroughly. Add wine, simmer 5 minutes. Mixture should be thick and syrupy, and alcohol will have evaporated.Add tomatoes and broth; simmer 5 minutes on low heat (bisque should be barely simmering). Remove from heat, cool 5 minutes, and add half and half. Serve warm or cold (but never hot), with toasted baguette or Holland Rusk and good brie.

Oh, tomatoes...

This weekend a friend gave me a bunch of tomatoes from her garden to help get me through that withdrawal period between my own tomato crops (my beautiful Heartland reds are recovering from a couple days of neglect, which in the desert is much more severe than it sounds, during which I lost two of my plants and the small green tomatoes that were growing on them). Anyway, the Sweet 100's I ate that very afternoon with my daughter, who loves any kind or color of small tomato. They're absolute heaven, small and round and sweet, bursting with rich fresh flavor when you bite. The large reds, however, I had no idea what to do with. I'm tired of the ubiquitous "it's summer and it's hot" salads. Fast-forward to a few days later - they are very ripe and need to be eaten right away, so I decided to stew them.

Here's the lovely stewed tomato recipe I found. The author recommends eating them as a stew with homemade croutons, which I'll bet is very delicious, but I've come up with other uses, the best of which will wind up here for my adoring fan to try. On the list for tomorrow's cooking are:

• Sweet tomato-carrot soup
• Tomato and nectarine bisque with roasted garlic (I'm thinking this one has lots of promise; at any rate, it will make a nice change from my usual lazy-ass canned soup for lunch)

My kitchen is, at the moment, quite poorly stocked, but I think I can whip up a few good, simple recipes using what I've got.

Note that I've modified the stewed tomato recipe slightly. My changes are as follows:

5 cups cored, peeled, roughly chopped fresh ripe tomatoes
7 Tbsp good quality salted butter
7 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
8 large Genovese basil leaves, torn

Toss tomatoes in large pot; add butter, sugar, and pepper. Simmer 25-30 minutes. Remove from heat and add basil.

Please note that, to suit my intentions for the tomatoes, I've omitted any salt (except the little bit in the butter). If you're preparing a more savory dish you'll want to add a teaspoon or so, depending on your tastes. Personally I'd rather have sweeter more versatile tomatoes - you can always add salt to your recipe later.

I miss food lately.

I'm a true foodie. There's nothing better than good (and sometimes junk) food. I don't quite live to eat, but I revel in the joys of cooking and eating. And now I'm pregnant with my second child, still in the first trimester, and thus am subjected daily to frequent incurable bouts of 'morning' sickness caused by just about anything I try to eat - except veggies, orange juice, tea, ham and cheddar sandwiches slathered in mustard, PBJs, and oddly enough, the much ranted-about Eggs Benedict. Sometimes kiwi-strawberry Slush Puppies help, too. I went through a brief phase where homemade hamburgers smothered in cheese, bacon, grilled onions, and various other fixings were the only cure for what ailed me. I also went through a phase where my favorite healthy cereals made me wish I hadn't eaten them. I'm not allowed to eat raw sushi or sashimi, and even lunchmeat is supposed to be off the menu. Caffiene and alcohol are a thing of the past as well. There's enough that's off limits, so why do the things that are left have to make me so sick? I haven't been able to touch, smell, or even look at chocolate since this pregnancy started (and I'm not kidding about looking at chocolate - my mother sent me a link to some chocolate website and I thought I was going to lose my already tenuous hold on lunch). Tonight we made Swiss cheese fondue with French bread for supper and that made me sick, despite having had a ferocious craving for it all day. My three year-old daughter enjoyed it immensley, however, and would shriek "I caught one!" every time she speared a piece of bread with her pink-tipped fondue fork. She likes to pat me on the hand and tell me she'll "look after me" and console me when I feel sick "because there's too much babies in your tummy." She has a funny but heartwarming approach to pregnancy, and I can't wait til the morning sickness goes away and I can enjoy it more with her.

What's with all the variations of Eggs Benedict?

At Eggs Benedict New York you can find a list of recipes that includes "Shortcut Eggs Benedict - With cream of chicken soup and milk substituting for eggs in hollandaise."

Do I understand this right? To me it sounds like cream of chicken soup on an english muffin. Just call it what it is, instead of trying to pass it off as something actually worth eating. Fortunately, the link to the recipe is now a dead one, and a Google search for it assures us that the world will never again be subjected to its horrors. Other B-movie-screamfest 'variations' include substituting everything from guaccamole mayonnaise to salsa for the Hollandaise, and another truly terrifying recipe uses "cholesterol-free egg product and evaporated milk to make the hollandaise to cover frozen waffles on which sit poached eggs." The title of this recipe is, in fact, "Eggs Benedict Without Real Eggs." Then what, pray tell, are the real poached eggs DOING on those waffles? (WAFFLES?!)

So what, some may ask, is REAL Eggs Benedict? To those who have never reveled in its creamy glory, Wikipedia has a great entry. While I sometimes omit the Canadian bacon (I've never been a huge fan of smoked pork products), I still adhere to the classic religiously. For those who have been told (or have simply feared) that real Hollandaise is too difficult to make, rest assured - it does take a little time and care, but it is nearly foolproof if you follow the instructions, and your efforts are well-rewarded in the end. Real Hollandaise sauce is so good that I always feel the need to make hash browns as well, simply as a vehicle for more sauce. If for some reason you just can't get the hang of it, Epicurious has a fairly good Blender Hollandaise recipe you should try.

For those with a gluten intolerance or wheat allergy, you can substitute homemade hash browns (recipe below) for the English muffins, unless you have a truly good gluten-free muffin on hand. The Hollandaise sauce is gluten-free by nature. For those who can eat regular English muffins, the hash browns make a nice accompaniment and serve to mop up extra sauce.

Sublime Hollandaise Sauce

(for about four portions of Eggs Benedict)

1 tablespoon rice vinegar
3 tablespoons cold water
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 large egg yolks
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon pieces and softened
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon Sriracha hot chili sauce, or 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Boil vinegar, 2 tablespoons water, salt, and white pepper in a 1 1/2-quart heavy saucepan until reduced to about 2 tablespoons. Remove from heat and stir in remaining tablespoon water.

Whisk in yolks, then cook over very low heat, whisking constantly, until thickened (but not scrambled), about 1 minute. Whisk in butter 1 piece at a time, lifting pan occasionally to cool sauce and adding each piece before previous one is completely melted.
Remove from heat and whisk in lemon juice, chili sauce or cayenne, and a pinch each of salt and pepper if desired. Serve warm; may be refrigerated for a few days if necessary.

Note: some might find the sauce too tangy - reduce the lemon juice from two tablespoons to one; it still makes an acceptable lemony sauce while keeping offended tastebuds happy. Also, please note that the egg yolks in this sauce are not fully cooked. If you have concerns about salmonella, you should not make this sauce.

Hash browns

(makes four patties)

1 large baking potato
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1 large egg, beaten

Scrub and coarsley grate potato (do not peel); sprinkle with salt and let sit 5 minutes. Drain off excess liquid, then mix with egg and remaining spices. Let sit another 5 minutes, while oil heats in pan. Use enough oil to liberally coat the bottom of a nonstick skillet. Spoon potato mixture into hot oil in 4 piles, and pack into patties with spatula or spoon. Fry until both sides are browned (darker than golden-brown) and center is tender.

There's nothing like a real, fresh tomato.

I'm talking about the sort you walked out your back door to pick, doesn't need washing, and is still warm from the sun when you slice it open. The kind that actually has a smell, and ripened the way nature intended. Be they sweet or savory, fresh tomatoes are, in my opinion, the best fruit there is.

This summer marks something momentous - my first garden. My mother has grown things before, but I always hated helping take care of the plants and never much cared about what went on out there. It's an entirely different animal when it's your very own, when you love and nurture these plants from tiny seedlings (or seeds), watching them bloom and bear their first fruits. I have to admit that I love my little piece of the earth; I love that, with much care, I triumph over this desert climate and am rewarded with fresh, nutritious ingredients to nourish myself and my family with. I grow the most beautiful tomatoes (sweet heartland red and strong, savory yellow pear), Japanese eggplants, and herbs I've ever laid eyes on.

Today I was faced with a bowlful of colorful tomatoes, and again the nagging dilemma - eat them now, or wait for a couple more to come in and make salsa? In the end, my rumbling tummy, a loaf of homemade bread, and my craving for an old favorite won out. And while I try to stay as celiac-friendly as possible, my apologies fo the gluten intolerant: there is just no substituting here.

Bread salad
Prep time: less than 45 minutes
Easy to prepare while making other dishes

3 cups good white bread (preferably crusty), cubed
12 oz. fresh mixed tomatoes, cut into wedges
1/4 cup fresh torn basil leaves
1/4 cup kalamata olives
1 1/2 T red wine vinegar
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/4 cup plus 1 T extra virgin olive oil
1 T hot chile oil (optional)
pinch salt
pinch pepper

Preheat oven to 400F. Spread bread cubes out on cookie sheet; bake for 15 minutes. Place in large bowl to cool. Add tomatoes, basil and olives; toss and let stand. Combine vinegar, garlic, oils, salt, and pepper, and whisk til emulsified. Let stand 10 minutes; then toss with bread mixture, allow to stand another 10 minutes at room temperature. Serve immediately, and don't expect leftovers.