Slippin' and Slidin'

It's barbeque season, and everybody is talking about sliders this and sliders that. Beef sliders, pork slides, turkey sliders...probably even fish sliders. What's a veg-head to do? Come up with something even better, of course! In this case, better is a multi-layered, caramelized stack of deliciousness.

The quest has twisted and turned through a couple of recipes, and resulted in Roasted Vegetable Sliders with Garlicky White Bean Spread. This began with Moomie's buns, brushed with sesame oil and sprinkled with sesame seeds before baking. The cooled buns were split and spread with white beans pureed with a whole head of roasted garlic and lemon juice to add brightness. Then, on went the roasted vegetables--mini portobellos, green chiles, red onions, zucchini and yellow summer squash, and orange bell pepper. Served with a side of roasted green bean "fries," this scratched the deep, "I need vegetables" itch that the early summer always brings out.

I can hold my head--and my sandwich--up high at the next barbeque!

Yes, Virgina...there is a cook in the kitchen

Summer is finally here, allowing me a much-anticipated opportunity to get back in the kitchen. Perhaps I should be more clear...it gives me an opportunity to blog about what's happening in the kitchen. I have been in there...some. Really.

Having found myself vegetable-starved, a couple of recipes from the May/June issue of Vegetarian Times caught my eye. Off I went to the Mexican market for masa harina, zucchini, chayote squash, and jalapenos. I came home and whipped up the Oven Baked Sopes with Zucchini Corn Filling. As always with VT recipes, I found that the recipes weren't necessarily true to the results. Let's start, for instance, with the sopes. These begin with a soft dough of masa horina, Parmesan cheese (not really authentic, but it adds nice flavor), baking powder, and hot water. This soft dough sits a few minutes, then a beaten egg and some olive oil are added. Now, the instructions say to take 1/4 cup of mixture, pat it into a 3" round on a parchment-lined sheet, then pull the edges up around a drinking glass. That part all works. However, the part where it says it makes 24? Unh-uh. No way, Jose. Twelve. Exactly. No more, no less. (Well, I probably could have squeezed out thirteen, but that wouldn't be very lucky now, would it?)

Really, how hard is THIS to get right? Does anybody at VT check this stuff out? Whoever counted to 24 for the yield on this...well, let's just say their math skills need a little work. It's one thing to say, "walnut sized pieces." Maybe my walnuts and your walnuts don't really fall from the same tree. But 1/4 cup...I think they're pretty consistent.

At any rate, I put my 12 sopes into the oven. Instead of the 10-minute baking time, it took about 25 minutes, yet another sign that these were supposed to use a lot less dough. As these firmed up, I took them out and sprinkled them with shredded Monterey Jack cheese, then popped them back in the oven until the cheese was melted.

Fortunately, this extended baking time allowed plenty of time to create the filling. Onions, garlic, jalapeno, zucchini, and corn all cooked to a nice, caramelized brown. Add a bit of lime, chopped cilantro, and a dusting of chile powder, and that's all you need. The sopes came out, I filled them,and served them alongside the Nopalitos-Style Chayote Salad.

The earthy flavor of this salad was nicely set off by the bite of the radishes, the al dente cubes of chayote squash, and the lime and chile dressing. All together, this made a meal that was beyond satisfying.

Multi-National Night

On Friday night, I had a little more time to cook, knowing the alarm clark wasn't going to be ringing well before dawn. It seemed like a good time to tackle a couple of interesting-looking recipes. The first was a Moroccan Green Bean Tagine. Here, green beans are sauteed until they begin to brown, then wrapped in a variety of spices that are eye opening, yet don't assault the tongue. A sauce follows, made of vinegar, wine, water, and tomatoes. The green beans simmer until tender, followed by a rapid boil to turn the sauce to an intense, syrupy glaze. The beauty of this recipe is its versatility. It would be amazing, I think, with cauliflower. It would be great over pasta. And every bite intrigues the palate, coaxing out hints of the flavors underneath.


We had this alongside Greek Pot Crushed Potatoes. What an incredibly easy weeknight side dish these would be. Ready in less than half an hour, with little fuss, these lemony potatoes add an incredibly bright note to the plate. Put a pot of water on to boil, and get to work thinly slicing a couple of pounds of red potatoes. Once the water is at a hard boil, slide the potatoes in and begin the rest of the dish. Slice (or chop, as I did) some garlic, parsley, and scallions. Juice a lemon. Check the potatoes--they're probably done. While they are draining, the pot goes back on the stove, filmed with a bit of olive oil. Garlic and water are added to the pan, simmering until the garlic softens. After five minutes or so, the potatoes get added back to the pot, with the parsley, scallions, lemon juice, and red pepper flakes. A few turns to gently break apart the potatoes. That's it. Brightness on a fork.

Sweet Endings

Tonight's dinners was leftovers--chimichangas made from Refried Beans with Cinnamon and Cloves. Actually, you'll read about those in a post later, which is funny, considering that they're leftovers here. But I digress. Since there was really no cooking involved to speak of, it seemed like a good time to make another dessert. I've been working my way through interesting recipes in The Splendid Table's How to Cook Dinner. Since the book works to be weeknight friendly, there are no complicated baking recipes in there. So...I was sure I'd find something quick, easy, and probably pretty darn good.

I wasn't disappointed. The Rustic Jam Shortbread Tart came to the rescue. The shortbread comes together quickly in the food processor: ground almonds, lemon zest, flour, sugar, butter, and egg yolk. Just pule them together until they begin to form lumps. From there, the mixture is patted into a buttered tart pan and partially baked. Just as it begins to brown, take it out of the oven and spread your favorite flavor of preserves over the crust, then pop it back in the oven until the jam begins to bubble. After a little bit of cooling, you can slice off a little bit of Heaven in the form of a mouthful of crumbly, buttery crust and sweet, fruity jam.

Pucker Up

I picked up some Meyer lemons, that's what started this thing. I picked them up, not knowing what I would do with them, but they were there at Trader Joe's. Four perfect sunny ovals with stems--looking up at me. Since this was the first time I had ever seen them at a price that matched my budget, I figured I'd go for it. So, I took them home, admired them on the way into the crisper drawer, and promptly forgot they existed. By the time I found them, I needed to make something, and I needed to make it quick.

Fortunately, Joe over at Culinary in the Country came riding in on a white steed to save the day. Well, not really, and even if he deed, I make it a rule to allow no white steeds in my kitchen, but his blog is a great resource for all things baking. When I saw these English Lemon Shortbread Strips, I knew I'd found the solution to my lemon problem.

This recipe couldn't be easier. The first step is unique--I've never seen this before. The sugar is placed into a mixing bowl, and lemon zest is showered over the top. A little massage follows, with your fingers rubbing the two together until the sugar is soft and almost snowy, having incorporated the oils from the lemon juice. After a whirl in the mixer with the rest of the ingredients, the whole thing is scooped into a pan and baked. After it comes out of the oven, it cools a bit, then is glazed with a zest-rich topping of powdered sugar, butter, and lemon juice.

You can try to eat just one of these, but if you hear a tiny, puckery voice calling your name in the night, you know where its coming from!

Speed Dating--Blogger Style

This will be the first in a series of several posts--allowing you to flirt for a brief time with all of the recipes from the past couple of weeks. There have been lots of keepers, and I don't want to lose track of them. So...I'll do what I can to relive the experiences for you!

Maybe we should start with the baking, hmmm???

I haven't baked much in years, mostly just to avoid the calories. However, I seem to have an insatiable sweet tooth lately. So I've tried to bake a little here and there, just so there's something sweet to grab a bite of from time to time. (Of course, the fallback is Trader Joe's Pistachio White Chocolate cookies, or their Southern Pecan cookies. Yum.)

One of my quests for awhile has been to find the banana bread. I've had good banana breads--lots of them. But until now, I hadn't had the quintessential banana bread. I didn't want lime, I didn't want coconut, I didn't want fancy schmancy versions.

I wanted the banana bread that takes me back to my grandmother's kitchen, to standing beside her on the stool, helping her create love that she would share at the dinner table. My grandmother was, by no means, a fancy cook. She was a resourceful cook, one who lived through hard times, and could magically feed a family on absolutely nothing. Her magic wand was a wooden spoon, and her magic carriage a well-seasoned cast iron pan. I'm sure that some of the "magic" in her food came from its just-picked state, as a trip to the garden was always a precursor to dinner preparation.

But I digress. When I want sweet, I usually want comfort, and for me, that sends me looking for the kind of recipe my grandmother would have used. When it comes to banana bread, though, no one wants to leave well enough alone, it seems. They want to tart it up a bit instead. Or the recipes are too dry, too lifeless, and have barely a hint of banana flavor.

Well, I found my holy grail of banana bread, and it was in the Martha Stewart Bakind Handbook. The name is even simple: Banana Nut Bread. Admittedly, Martha's recipe called for coconut, but I disregarded that and doubled up on the pecans. And I ignored the whole "walnut" issue in the recipe, because that's just not the way my family rolls. And the result was everything I wanted. A delicious, moist bread with a barely-crisp crust where the banana flavor intensified, bursting onto the tongue with the first bite. Quick and easy, this kept well and is very much worth the little bit of effort it takes to make.

Ribbons of Greens and Green Apple Salad