It’s already February. It’s already February, and I haven’t written one post about the cooking I did over the Christmas holidays. If January went by this fast, it’s sure to be Easter in no time. And then summer. And then Thanksgiving. And then Christmas again. If this is aging, I don’t mind so much because the yuckiest month is over. It’s already February!

Having done a lot of cooking for Christmas celebrations, I took it easy when it came to cooking during my quiet Christmas staycation. I didn’t stretch as far as last year and roast some flesh. Instead, I roasted some squash. Slice in half (I had a butternut), place face down on parchment in a 400-degree oven, and about 45 minutes later, you have a lot of roasted gourd to play with. Then, remove the peel and mash by hand or puree it with the help of a blender. Portion it out, refrigerate it or freeze it. You’re good to go. A healthier side dish than potatoes, a suitable mash to add some moisture to your baked goods, and a vitamin-packed, high fibre, low calorie orange veg that will help you balance any overeating damage you did in honour of baby Jesus.

Taking a cue from the many sandwiches I see featured on Serious Eats, I concocted a grilled cheese with some of the mash. The squash’s sweetness added a nice contrast to the saltiness of the cheese, and its texture added great mouth feel. No, this isn’t exactly diet food but it IS delicious.

Grilled Cheese and Squash Sandwich

Everybody usually has their own tricks and preferences for making a tasty grilled cheese. I tend to like mine only with Gruyere, but I had some leftover Fleur d’Aunis from the Christmas cheese plate, so I added it for some extra goo.

I have no measurements, but the basic idea is:

- Preheat your heavy duty frying pan to medium low.
- Butter the outside of two slices of bread.
- Smear some dijon mustard on the inside of one slice of bread, butter the inside of other.
- Spread a few tablespoons of squash on the mustard’d slice, sprinkle some fresh parsley, then load on your cheese. Top with the other slice of bread.
- Place in your pan and be patient. A good grilled cheese is made like a braise: low and slow. Don’t turn up the heat. You’re looking at about five minutes per side to get perfect golden brown bread and cheese that oozes.

Image courtesy of www.zoomyummy.com

The internet is a great source for all things foodie, and we’re constantly bookmarking, starring, and emailing intriguing recipes, food porn, and inspiration. Here’s a selection of clippings we think are worth checking out.

Don’t balk at these “oven-fried” onion rings. They’re made with potato chips!

Tired of grilled cheese? How about some new-fangled cheese on toast?

I have no interest in trying to be like Heston Blumenthal at home. But, the idea of serving pumpkin soup in a bowl glistening with brown butter might get me thinking about trying.

Why wait for Halloween? You should totally make these homemade peanut butter cups this weekend.

And hooray! It’s time to eat all things pumpkin. Start with soft’n'spicy pumpkin snickerdoodles.

Image courtesy of www.joythebaker.com

The internet is a great source for all things foodie, and we’re constantly bookmarking, starring, and emailing intriguing recipes, food porn, and inspiration. Here’s a selection of clippings we think are worth checking out.

Waking up to these lemon raspberry rolls on a sunny Sunday morning would not be too shabby.

I know we’ve been enjoying late summer sun and warm temperatures, but I couldn’t help start drooling over these very Fall-appropriate roasted carrot and ricotta gnocchi.

Same thing goes for these bread and cheese meatballs. You’re sure to please the vegetarians in your life.

And again, it’s time for tomatoes. Think about making this Southeast Asian tomato salad for dinner tonight. Or, if you want some indulgence, roll up your shirtsleeves and make some biscuit dough for a tomato cobbler.

Image courtesy of www.food52.com

The internet is a great source for all things foodie, and we’re constantly bookmarking, starring, and emailing intriguing recipes, food porn, and inspiration. Here’s a selection of clippings we think are worth checking out.

Here’s a recipe for baking sheet macaroni and cheese. The type of dish you make and savour… and then ask whomever to clean the pan after. Dish fairies if you must.

I don’t care if Mexican pasta sounds silly. I’m all for what looks to be a poblano chile pesto with spaghetti.

Swirly bread with cilantro? Yeah, I can see that smothered in like, lime butter. I’m so there.

Kaiserschmarrn? Something delicious you eat for breakfast.

I. made. pupusas.

I’m proud not because they were terribly difficult, but because I accomplished what I thought was impossible; I replicated a meal I’ve gone out for countless times, craved countless times, and thought would only ever come to me via the hands of a woman from El Salvador and under the brights fluorescent lights of a cheap and cheerful Latin American establishment.

As I’ve written, pupusas are very special to me. They remind me of home and of friends. They have created fun loyalties (Teams El Rancho and Acajutla), and I’ve watched devotion to pupusas turn into warm relationships between those who serve them and those who eat them.

But they’re just another take on Latin American street food: grilled, filled dough. Not exactly duck confit.

I had no designs on making pupusas when I went out for them to El Pulgarcito here in Vancouver. Until then, I’d only ever been to Rinconcito on Commercial Drive (and am now officially on both Team El Rancho and Team Rinconcito).  As I went up to pay, I became totally distracted by the shelves of Latin products that stood before me. When I saw that I could get a giant bag of masa harina for $3, I could hardly say no.  One day, my angel thought, one day I might make pupusas or my own tortillas. My devil thought, at least when that big bag gets in the way of everything in your small cupboards and you have to throw it out, you’ll have only lost $3.

Presented with another weekend where it was best to think about eating in, I looked at that big bag and set out to make pupusas.  Friday night was a test batch. Queso filling only to see if I could find some success. Ground pork, refried beans, shredded zucchini and a plant bud called loroco are other popular fillings. Once I started mixing the water into the masa, the aroma told me I was on the right track.  It smelled like a pupusa…

And the final product tasted like a pupusa! I was shocked. They weren’t perfect, but given the circumstances, it would have been like walking on water if they were. Beaming, I knew Saturday would be even better. With a night of practice under my belt, not only would the pupusas be better, but the meal would be stepped up by the introduction of curtido, the integral cabbage slaw condiment.  Salsa roja is the third required member at the party, but it’s the “meh” part of pupusa eating for me. With a bottle of my favourite salsa verde on hand, I knew I’d be fine.  All that’s needed is a runny salsa, really. The avocado is an Acajutla bad habit. Avocados and guacamole have no business on pupusas, but Acajutla started bringing their avocado sauce (like a pureed guacamole) out with all dishes. Not ones to turn down gratis avocado, my friends and I now break the rules.

How to eat them? I was taught that you take the disk and carefully split it in two.  Asbestos fingers are sometimes needed and/or a knife.  The filling doesn’t always split evenly, but it’s fun to create the cheese strings (see below). And now you’ve got double the surface area for condiments. Load up your circles and then fold them up like you would a soft taco.  Stacks of napkins should be at the ready.

Pupusas

All that’s needed is masa harina, water, salt and your choice of filling.

The ratio is:

Masa 2
Water 1+
Filling 1 (cheese, refried beans, seasoned ground pork, etc, or a mix)

Salt
Vegetable oil

For me, three or four pupusas is a good-sized meal. For three pupusas, I used 2/3 cup masa and 1/4 teaspoon salt.  I used monterey jack cheese, but you could use mozzarella or a Mexican cheese that melts well.

Add initial amount of water to masa and salt. Keep additional water near your bowl as you may need up to twice the original amount.
Stir with spoon and then use your hands. Keep adding water until you get the consistency of plasticine. Knead for a minute or two. The dough shouldn’t crack easily and it shouldn’t be sticky. Cover with plastic wrap and let the dough rest for 10 minutes.

Preheat oven to 200 degrees and heat a frying pan or griddle to medium high. Brush lightly with vegetable oil.

Divide dough into golf-ball sized rounds. Use your thumb to make a hole in the ball of dough and then begin to make the hole wider so that you’ve made a cup-like shape.  Fill the opening with a generous tablespoon of filling (or as much as you can comfortably get in there) and pack it down.  Mold the sides of the cup to pinch the opening closed. Then start to flatten the ball into a disc with the palms of your hand. I read that traditionally the pupusa is slapped between your palms to flatten it out. You could use a tortilla press or a rolling pin as well. I think your hands give you more control, however, and a better sense of if the filling will come out or not — try to avoid this.

Cook pupusas for about two minutes per side. You want some blistering to appear. Pupusas can be kept warm in preheated oven while others are being made.

Serve immediately with salsa and curtido.

Curtido

Now, I didn’t follow any recipe variation closely on this because curtido is one of those dishes that you can tweak to your own tastes.  Like heat? Add more  jalapeno. Don’t want it crunchy? Let it soak in the water a little longer. Want more of a pickled taste? Let it chill in the fridge for a day or two before eating. I like a lot of curtido with my pupusas and would guess that you need the following amounts per person. I also was able to take the short cut of using the supermarket’s salad bar for the cabbage and carrot because I only needed enough for one.

1 1/2 cups of shredded cabbage
1/2 carrot, grated
1/4-1/2 jalapeno, minced
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup white vinegar
1/4 teaspoon salt

Cover cabbage and carrot with boiling for a few minutes. Drain well.  Mix all other ingredients in a bowl and then add cabbage and carrot. Cover and let sit on counter for at least an hour to ferment. I used mine right after, but it can be chilled for later use.

El Pulgarcito, Vancouver

Rinconcito Salvadorean, Vancouver

Acajutla, Edmonton

El Rancho, Edmonton

Another solo dinner dealing with kitchen dregs. Waste not, want not, right? Solo dining on a budget is almost always trying to not overlook what you have despite continually thinking that you don’t have enough to make something delicious. Pasta is a staple, as is chicken broth, and bringing up the rear are frozen peas. In my freezer, I found the last of some cubed butternut squash. In my fridge, some cheddar and salami. Let’s throw them together in mock mac’n'cheese fashion and put them in the oven (a developing theme it appears). Although more goopy than creamy in the end, it all tasted good in my mouth. I should have mixed the diced salami throughout rather than placing it on top — but not because I browned the bits too much, I just would have liked the saltiness throughout.  Tasty, relatively healthy and filling: alright by me.

Dining companion:  Mildred Pierce

Baked Squash Pasta
Serves 1.

100 g short pasta
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup cooked, mashed butternut squash
1/3 cup green peas
3 tablespoons grated sharp cheddar cheese
1 tablespoon grated parmigianno cheese
1/4 cup diced salami
nutmeg
salt
black pepper
cayenne pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cook pasta until almost al dente, adding peas in the last minute of cooking.
Meanwhile, add broth to squash to thin.  Warm in sauce pan over low heat. Add 2 tablespoons of cheddar to melt. Season with salt to taste and add pinches of nutmeg, cayenne and black pepper. Toss with pasta and place in a greased individual baking dish or large ramekin. Top with remaining cheeses and diced salami.
Bake for 30 minutes, broiling for for a minute or two at the end to brown cheese.

Pasta pasta pasta. It probably shows up in my posts as often as Mark Bittman. You know I love it. And it’s so easy. And with barely any effort, you can pull off something that’s worthy of guests. This is one of those recipes. And and and, you can spend time with your guests while dinner’s cooking and not worry about being on top of multiple items.

As the only hostess of the house, I worry about that. I want to enjoy a glass of wine with friends with my face to them. I don’t like when all they see for the first part of the evening is my back as I chop, chop or stir, stir. With this gem, the tomatoes go in the oven, and the pasta gets minded a bit. That’s it. I get to catch up while the timer tells me when to take notice. I get to gossip while my apartment quickly fills with the appetizing aroma of garlic baking down with tomatoes.

Tomatoes! One of pasta’s perfect partners and in this dish, they become a sweet mess after the time in the oven. The breadcrumbs balance things out and the cheeses give the necessary salty kick. All that’s left is to sit at the table, pour more Chianti and make a cheesy but classic toast to good food and good friends.

Pasta with Baked Tomato Sauce
Adapted from Nancy Harmon Jenkins via The Wednesday Chef
Serves 4

I’ve made this twice now and made one adjustment my second time around — tossing the tomatoes with olive oil, garlic and seasoning before topping with the breadcrumb mixture.

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound / 2 pints very ripe cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
1/3 cup plain dry breadcrumbs
1/4 cup freshly grated parmigiano
2 tablespoons freshly grated pecorino
3 garlic cloves, minced
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound pasta
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh basil leaves, torn

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss tomatoes with one of the minced garlic cloves, a sprinkle of salt, some pepper and 1/3 of the oil. Place tomatoes cut side up in 9 x 13 inch baking dish.

In a small bowl, combine the breadcrumbs, cheeses, and remaining garlic and toss with a fork to mix well. Sprinkle the breadcrumb mixture over the tomatoes, making sure that each cut side is well covered with the crumb mixture. Sprinkle with more salt and pepper. Bake until the tomatoes are cooked through and starting to brown on top, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, or until al dente. Time the pasta so it finishes cooking about the time the tomatoes are ready to come out of the oven.

When the tomatoes are done, add the basil and stir vigorously to mix everything into a sauce. Drain the pasta and immediately transfer it to the baking dish. Add the remaining olive oil and mix well. Serve at once and grate a little more cheese on top.

Serve alongside a green salad or tender-crisp green beans and broccolini quickly sautéed in olive oil, garlic and chili pepper.

Another Mark Bittman post. What can I say? I’m a big fan. (How many times have I said this before?)
I could easily turn the Cream part of this blog into a Rhianna & Mark journey a la Julie & Julia, but if you follow along, you know that I do use recipes from other people… occasionally.

Mark’s recipes just go so well with how I like to cook (simple and flexible) that it’s hard for me to lose motivation for trying one of his recipes.  And with fresh ricotta still in my fridge, there was now no holding back on a recipe I’d bookmarked months before.

I’m sure we all have stories of good gnocchi and bad gnocchi.  The good ones use adjectives like pillowy, soft and tender. The bad ones use adjectives like leaden, gluey and chewy.  Traditional potato gnocchi are easy to find on menus but difficult to rate successful.  The bad stories tend to flood the marketplace, often disguised with a too-heavy sauce or under mounds of cheese. I’ve never attempted traditional gnocchi for fear of failing and writing a bad story, but also because the prep load (cooking potatoes…) hasn’t been something that I’ve wanted to carry thus far.

But when I saw Mark’s video for his ricotta gnocchi, I was pretty sure this load would be light enough for me to carry.

These ricotta gnocchi are pretty much the perfect choice for a comfort food fix. Perhaps not as versatile as their potato cousins (I don’t think they’d stand up to baking), but easily just as tasty. After loving my first batch so much (served atop some jarred marinara I had in the fridge), I made another round of ricotta the following weekend and another batch of gnocchi.  With my second batch, I prepared a classic brown butter sauce and played a little bit with substituting about a third of the flour with cornmeal and adding a good dash of nutmeg — the cornmeal doing not much more than adding some colour.

Mark’s servings are a little small, so I would say the recipe is better suited for two generous main course servings or four starters. How’d I get uniform-sized gnocchi? Cookie scoop.

Ricotta Gnocchi
Adapted from Mark Bittman

Watch the video and then read through the recipe to get a sense of what to do. Do start with the minimum amount of flour and build up as you need to.  The test gnocchi is important, but I think you can get away with a little one. I used Mark’s recipe for the brown butter.

Today’s Special: Pecorino versus Parmigiano
Do you have a preference for one or the other for grating on your pasta?
While my heart belonged for a long time to parmigiano, I’ve been stepping out a lot lately with pecorino. Pecorino’s saltiness is much more assertive and it never gets pushed aside by other flavours.  Parmigiano’s lingering hold is that it melts better, highlighting its nutty and butter-like qualities.

Interim solution is to always have both in your fridge.  Grating a healthy dose of both on your piping hot dish of pasta is probably sacrilegious to Italian cuisine.  It tastes really good, however.

When I started making this famous French sandwich one night and thinking of its inspiration — my friend and former classmate Sarah’s blog Edible Witness — I was reminded of a very fond sandwich memory of when I attended school with Sarah in Toronto.  Having just started graduate school, budgets and studying meant that socializing on a Saturday night was rare.  Of course that quickly changed, but in the early days, we took our mountain of reading very seriously. So, it goes that I met Sarah and Mike for lunch one Saturday and will never forget three things from that day:  the amazing booth that’s Sarah’s apartment had, the introduction to what would become one of my fave T.O. spots, Terroni, and the process of conversation becoming friendship.

When Sarah posted a recipe for a Croque Monsieur, I knew a solo supper would be raised a few notches with the bechamel-oozing bistro classic.  There’s technique in the making of the roux, but just keep stirring and remember to not let it brown, the nutty aroma of cooked butter and flour (almost like fresh baked shortbread) is a sure sign you’re there.

Dining companion:  The Trip

Croque Monsieur
Serves 1.

1/2 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1/2 cup hot milk (warmed in the microwave a minute or so)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
pinch of nutmeg
1 cup grated gruyere cheese
Dijon mustard
4 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed
6 thin slices of Black Forest ham

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toast bread on a baking sheet for about five minutes and set aside.

Melt butter on low heat, then add flour and whisk vigorously to form a roux. Stir constantly for a few minutes until the roux begins to absorb the butter and the flour cooks.  Add the hot milk, whisking in gradually to avoid lumps. Heat and stir until sauce thickens (coats back of spoon), then stir in salt, pepper and nutmeg. Remove from heat and stir in half the cheese.

To assemble sandwiches, spread mustard on one half of sandwich, then top with three slices of ham, some grated cheese and about a tablespoon of the sauce. Place other slice of bread on top, then spread with more bechamel and sprinkle with cheese. Repeat.

Bake sandwiches in oven for about five minutes, then broil for a few minutes until tops lightly brown and bubble.