Miso Hake with Charred Bok Choy & Shiitakes

I spent this past weekend in the Catskills with Beth, who has now been my dear friend for more than half our lives. (Not really sure how that happened.) We rented a lovely creekside cabin between Woodstock and Phoenicia and spent our days brunching, checking out small towns, and posing for the occasional swimming hole glamour shot.

Bathing Beauty Jasmine

Owing to the dark and winding roads (and an absence of taxis), Beth and I opted to spend our nights at home. Fortunately, our landlord had been kind enough to lay in a full bag of charcoal.

The Grill

Cocktail hour started early on Friday, allowing me to get the flank steak off of the grill just as the last gasps of sunlight disappeared.

Grilled Flank Steak

Saturday was another story. It was pitch black by the time I even thought to light the coals. Despite the dark, a persistent rain, and several watermelon cocktails, the salmon came out beautifully. Dinner was served right around the stroke of midnight.

Grilled Salmon, Carrots and Scallions

I ate well this past weekend. I did not, however, make it through last week’s CSA share. I came home from a busy Monday determined to polish off a full head of Farmer Fred’s beautiful bok choy. Mission accomplished.

Miso Hake with Charred Bok Choy & Shiitakes

  • 1/2 tablespoon butter
  • 1 tablespoon red miso paste
  • 2 tablespoons soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
  • pinch sugar
  • 6 dried shiitake mushrooms
  • 8 ounces hake
  • 1.5 tablespoons safflower or other vegetable oil
  • 1 clove garlic
  • 1 small knob ginger
  • 2 scallions
  • 1 large bunch bok choy
  1. Pre-heat the over to 400 with a small skillet inside.
  2. Add the butter, miso, vinegar, sugar and 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce to a very small pot and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the miso. Remove from heat.
  3. Pour 1/2 cup boiling water over the shiitakes and let stand while they rehydrate.
  4. Remove the hot skillet. Swirl 1/2 tablespoon of oil in the bottom, add the fish, drizzle with the miso sauce, and pop it back in the oven. After about four minutes, pull the pan out and use a spoon to scoop up the sauce in the pan and drizzle it over the fish. Return to oven and cook another four minutes or so.
  5. Bring 1 tablespoon of oil up to medium-high heat. Rinse and roughly chop the bok choy. Mince the garlic and ginger. Slice the scallions. Add the aromatics to the hot skillet and cook, stirring continuously for a minute or so until they are toasted but not burnt. Add the bok choy in batches, starting with the white stems. Remove the shiitakes, retaining the water, and cut into thin slices. Add these to the pan and crank the heat up to high. Add the mushroom broth and the remaining tablespoon of soy sauce. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid has evaporated and the greens are wilted and charred in places.

Miso Hake with Charred Bok Choy and Shiitakes

You could serve this over a pile of steamed rice. I opted to take my carbs in the form of a Sixpoint Sweet Action, which is pretty much my all-time favorite beer. Oona digs it too.

Oona and Sweet Action

(Last Night’s) Bluefish Cakes

One of my coworkers spent Wednesday with his dad and brother on a boat off the coast of Sandy Hook, New Jersey. It turned out to be a great day for fishing. Jorge returned with more bluefish than any one or two or ten people can reasonably consume. And so he spread the wealth.

Bluefish Filets

I left work last night with two very large bluefish filets tucked into my tote bag. As luck would have it, Rachel was available on short notice. We caught up over a few bottles of wine, the rest of my Newfangled Vichysoisse, and bluefish baked in foil packets with sugar snap peas, asparagus, chives, butter, lemon and a splash of wine.

Baked Bluefish

Despite our best efforts, I was left with quite a bit of bluefish. Not a problem.

(Last Night’s) Bluefish Cakes

  • 1 filet (about the size of a piece of Texas toast) cooked bluefish (or whatever other leftover fish you happen to have)
  • 1/2 jalapeño, seeded and minced
  • 1 small bunch chives (or scallions or plain old onion), minced
  • 1 small bunch minced fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, etc.)
  • 2 big spoonfuls mayonnaise
  • 1 spoon dijon mustard
  • a few shakes of panko or other breadcrumbs or crushed up crackers if that’s what you got
  • salt, pepper, cayenne, paprika and/or whatever else you heart desires
  • enough oil to coat your cast iron skillet

Bring the oil up to medium heat in a large cast iron skillet. Flake the fish into a small bowl. If a little bit of that delicious butter, wine and lemon sauce slips in, so much the better. Stir in the rest of the ingredients, taste and adjust seasoning to your preference. You want a somewhat gummy texture so that the cakes will hold together. (An egg would probably help with this, but I opted to serve my lone egg fried on top of the cakes.) Use a serving spoon to drop large patties into the pan. Cook swirling occasionally to make sure the oil is distributed evenly and the cakes aren’t sticking. When a nice brown crust is formed on the bottom, flip and repeat.

Bluefish Cakes

Beluga Lentils with Lamb’s Quarters, Caramelized Red Onion & Feta

This weekend was full of good friends, glorious sun, and decadent meals. Highlights included a wonderful belated birthday dinner for Louis at Monument Lane (get the smoked potatoes!); a glorious birthday brunch for Sari at Maison Premiere (oysters, custom cocktails, and a delightfully flirtatious server); and Oriana’s amazing book launch party (featuring aerialists and a rousing performance by Hungry March Band–all in a very cool warehouse space/arts community mere feet from the Gowanus Canal). I ended the weekend with a lovely indoor cookout (alas, the sun did not hold) at Sean and Christie’s. I offered up potato salad in a bid to clear the crisper in preparation for the kickoff of CSA season tomorrow. 

The fun came to a screeching halt on this cold, and dark, and dreary Monday morning. I managed to get through the workday with the help of my lovely coworkers. But I did not manage to warm up. By the time I arrived home, I was craving something hot and nourishing. Good thing I stopped off at the farmers’ market Saturday morning.

Beluga Lentils with Lamb’s Quarters, Caramelized Red Onion & Feta

  • 1 cup beluga lentils
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1 small pinch red pepper flakes
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 medium red onion, halved and thinly sliced
  • 1 bunch lamb’s quarters, large stems removed and roughly chopped (baby spinach would also work)
  • 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
  • 1/2 lemon, juice and zest
  • 2 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
  • salt and pepper
  1. Add lentils, two cups of water, the bay leaf, the red pepper flakes and a healthy pinch of salt to a small pot. Bring to a boil and then reduce to a simmer.
  2. Bring the olive oil up to medium-low heat in a small skillet. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until caramelized.
  3. When the lentils are tender (about 25 minutes), turn off the heat and remove the bay leaf. Add the lamb’s quarters in batches, allowing the heat to wilt the greens. Stir in the caramelized onions, vinegar and lemon zest and juice and season to taste with pepper and additional salt. Sprinkle with feta before serving.

Beluga Lentils, Lamb's Quarters, Caramlized Red Onion and Feta

This plus a glass of Red Hook Winery‘s lusty 2009 Cabernet Sauvignon and I was finally, mercifully warm.

Shrimp Tacos with Kale & Avocado Slaw

I got back late last night from my annual trek down to Baltimore for Beth and Don’s (in)famous Memorial Day BBQ. It was, as always, great fun. And I served up some damn fine brisket, if I do say so myself.

Jasmine and Brisket

But three days of hauling coolers, rubbing meat, and tending the coals will wear a girl–and her manicure–out.

Dirty Fingernails

I helped cook and serve everything from sweetbreads and pork belly to elk and musk ox. (I managed to stagger my grill shifts so as to steer clear of the whole raccoon.) Needless to say, meat is not so appealing to me at the moment. Luckily, a swing through my local sustainable seafood shop and the dregs in my refrigerator combined forces for a quick and lovely pescatarian meal.

Shrimp Tacos with Kale & Avocado Slaw

  • 1/2 bunch Lacinato kale, shredded
  • 4 scallions, minced
  • 1 lime, juiced (plus another for your margarita)
  • 1/2 avocado, diced
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 1/2 tablespoon butter
  • 1/2 small onion, thinly sliced
  • 1/2 pound shrimp, peeled
  • 1 pinch sugar
  • 1/4 cup salsa
  • 3 corn tortillas
  • salt and pepper

Toss the kale and scallions with the lime juice and a pinch of salt in a medium bowl. After a few minutes, mix in the avocado and 1/2 tablespoon of oil. Stir occasionally so that everything comes together while you continue on with you dinner preparations. Bring a small skillet up to medium-high heat and a cast iron skillet up to medium heat. Add the remaining 1/2 tablespoon oil and the butter to the small skillet. Toss the shrimp with salt, pepper and sugar in a small bowl. Make a margarita. Add the onion to the small skillet and cook, stirring frequently, until nicely browned. Scoot the onions to the side and add the shrimp. Cook for a couple of minutes, and then flip. Add the salsa and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid is reduced. Heat the tortillas in the cast iron skillet, about a minute per side. Assemble your tortillas, topping them with the shrimp, onions and a nice pile of slaw. 

Shrimp Tacos with Kale and Avocado Slaw

Ramp, Feta & Mint Pizza

Having spent much of my week in meetings, I find myself home alone on Friday night desperately attempting to catch up on emails and a couple of writing projects. This is not as bad as it sounds when you consider the fact that I went a little overboard on the ramps during Monday’s farmers’ market expedition and had the foresight to pick up a ball of pizza dough on my way home this afternoon.

It seems that Friday night pizza is officially a thing.

Ramp, Feta & Mint Pizza

  • 10-12 ramps, dirty ends trimmed
  • 1 tablespoon butter
  • 1 small ball pizza dough
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1/3 cup ricotta cheese
  • 2 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
  • 20 or so fresh mint leaves
  • salt and pepper
  1. Turn your oven up as high as it will go and remove the pizza dough from the refrigerator.
  2. Bring a large cast iron skillet up to medium heat with the butter. Add the ramps, placing the bulb ends in the skillet and draping the greens, which will cook faster, off the side. When the bulbs are starting to brown, flip the ramps over, When the other side has some color, slide the greens portions in as well. Flip one more time to cook the greens thoroughly, sprinkle with a little salt and set aside.
  3. Give the skillet a quick rinse and pop it in the oven. When the oven is pre-heated, remove the skillet and swirl a little olive oil inside. 
  4. Slowly stretch your dough into a circle approximately the size of your skillet by working your hands around the edges, pulling gently and allowing gravity to assist. Place the dough in the skillet, drizzle a little more olive oil on top and then spread the ricotta cheese in a layer. Add some black pepper, the ramps and the feta cheese. 
  5. Pop the pan in the oven and let cook for 7 to 11 minutes until the edges of the crust are browned. Sprinkle the hot pizza with the mint leaves before serving.

Ramp, Feta & Mint Pizza

This should probably be enough for two people, but I’m having a hard time resisting the half that’s sitting on my cutting board.

Clams, Dandelion Greens & Hog Jowl

This past weekend’s chilly temperature notwithstanding, Monday’s visit to the Union Square Greenmarket suggests that spring is here to stay. I picked up more young collard greens (color me obsessed), chives, carrots, mint, ramps and dandelion greens. Last night, having worked late, I dined on sautéed collard tacos augmented by half an avocado that had miraculously stayed fresh while I was out of town for a long weekend. Tonight I departed work on time, leaving me with the energy/blood sugar level to swing by my local sustainable seafood shop for a dozen littleneck clams. Half an hour later, dinner was served.

Clams, Dandelion Greens & Hog Jowl

  • 1 ounce hog jowl (or bacon), finely chopped
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
  • 1 pinch red pepper flakes
  • 1/2 cup white wine
  • 12 littleneck clams
  • 1 bunch dandelion greens
  • zest of 1 lemon
  • salt and pepper

Bring a medium-sized pot with a good fitting lid up to medium heat. Add the hog jowl and olive oil and cook stirring occasionally until the pork is partially rendered. Add the onion and continue to cook stirring occasionally until the onion is soft. Add the garlic and red pepper and cook stirring constantly for two more minutes. Add the wine, raise the heat to high, and add the clams. Cook with the lid on for 10 minutes or so, stirring once or twice, until all of your clams have popped open. Stir in the dandelion greens in batches and cook until just wilted. Add the lemon zest and salt and pepper to taste.

Watching the clams give way to your bubbling broth is mighty relaxing–particularly if you do so with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in hand.

This would make a killer sauce for linguine. Given that I was cooking for one, I went with a piece of grilled whole wheat sourdough, which did a fine job of soaking up the luscious broth.

Steamed Clams with Dandelion Greens and Hog Jowl

Pizza alla Friday Night (& Saturday Morning)

The one nice thing I can say about this past winter is that it got me over my aversion to baking. Month after month of dark, bitterly cold days afforded ample time for experimentation–and a strong motivation to run the oven. I baked oatmeal-fig cookies, Meyer lemon gingerbread, and even a couple of yeasted breads.

But you don’t always have time for a proper rise, which is where your local pizza parlor is a great ally. In case you don’t already know, most pizza shops are happy to sell you a ball of the dough they had the foresight to start a few days ago. This means that homemade pizza can be yours in well under an hour.

Broccoli Rabe & Ricotta Pizza

  1. Grab some dough from the local pizza place on your way home from the subway.
  2. As soon as you walk in the door (yes, even before you remove your shoes), crank your oven up as high as it will go and pop a large cast iron skillet inside.
  3. Change into a caftan or other relaxation garment of your choice.
  4. Set a large pan over medium heat with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.
  5. Crack open a beer and cue up some appropriate tunes–Fleetwood Mac, for example.
  6. Bring a large pan up to medium heat with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.
  7. Peel and thinly slice several cloves of garlic. Rinse and roughly chop that bunch of broccoli rabe you bought on Sunday, when you mistakenly thought the week after vacation would be pretty chill.
  8. Add the garlic and a good pinch of crushed red pepper to the pan and stir continuously for a minute or two, taking care not to burn the garlic. Add the broccoli rabe in batches, starting with the stems. Cook, stirring occasionally, until wilted. Add salt and pepper to taste.
  9. Take the skillet out of the oven and drizzle a little olive oil into it. Grab the ball of dough and slowly stretch it into a circle approximately the size of your skillet by working your hands around the edges, pulling gently and allowing gravity to do its thing. Place the stretched dough into the skillet. Layer on the broccoli rabe and several dollops of ricotta cheese. If you happen to have some dessicated parmesan or romano lurking in the fridge, grate some over the top. A little lemon zest wouldn’t hurt either.
  10. Pop the skillet back in the oven and grab another beer.
  11. Your pizza will be ready in six minutes (or a little less if your oven doesn’t suck as hard as mine). You’ll know it’s ready because the edges of your crust will be brown and bubbly.

If you game it right, Stevie Nicks will be crooning “Angel” by the time you sit down to dinner, an old friend who lives too far away will call just as you finish eating, and the leftovers will make for a lovely brunch when topped with a fried egg.

Broccoli Rabe and Ricotta Pizza

White Bean & Winter Vegetable Stew

We’re getting down to the dregs in terms of seasonal eating. My last CSA pickup was over a month ago. The green things at my local farmers’ market dwindled down to hearty spinach before drying up completely sometime in the middle of February. And so I have turned my attention to beans and storage vegetables (plus a little store-bought kale–hey, a girl’s gotta get her greens).

White Bean & Winter Vegetable Stew

  • 1 pound dried navy beans, soaked overnight and drained
  • 1 onion, peeled and halved
  • 2 large carrots, cut into large chunks
  • 2 celery stalks, cut into large chunks
  • 3 garlic cloves, peeled and halved
  • 1 teaspoon sage
  • 1 teaspoon rosemary
  • 1-2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
  • 1 ounce guanciale, cubed
  • 1 large butternut squash, peeled and cubed
  • 1 large bulb celeriac, peeled and cubed
  • 1 parmesan cheese rind
  • 1 Meyer lemon, skin and all, finely chopped
  • 1 large bunch kale, stemmed and roughly chopped
  • salt and pepper

Add the beans, onion, carrot, celery, garlic, guanciale, herbs and spices to a large Dutch oven along with enough water to cover by a couple of inches. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and let cook for an hour or more, until the beans are tender. Fish out the celery, carrots and bay leaves. Add the squash, celeriac, cheese rind and lemon, and top with enough water to just cover everything. Bring back to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. When the vegetables have softened (about 15 minutes), stir in the kale along with plenty of salt and pepper. Cook until the kale is wilted. 

White Bean and Winter Vegetable Stew

It’s going to be another long and strenuous workweek. At least I’ve packed my lunch.

Packed Lunch

Blood Orange & Miso-Glazed Salmon

Every once in a while, generally in the dead of winter, I get an unbearable craving for salmon. Today was one of those days. Despite working late, I was determined to cook myself a nice piece of fish. Were it not for the brown rice that accompanied it, this meal could have been ready in about 30 minutes.

Blood Orange & Miso-Glazed Salmon

  • 1 blood orange, zest and juice
  • 1 tablespoon red miso
  • 1 large marble-sized knob of ginger, grated
  • 1/2 tablespoon honey
  • 1 teaspoon Sriracha 
  • black pepper
  • 1 12-ounce salmon filet (or two smaller pieces)

Preheat the over to 325. Combine the first six ingredients in a small bowl. Lay a piece of parchment paper in a baking dish,being sure to trim the sides if the piece is too big. (Trust me on this one; my dinner nearly went up in flames!) Rinse the salmon, pat dry and place skin side down on the parchment paper. Drizzle with half the glaze, letting it ooze over the sides, and pop it in the oven. After 10 minutes (less if it’s a thin filet), remove the pan, layer the salmon with the remaining glaze and pop it under the broiler. (Hint: you’ll know a few minutes in whether you did a good job of trimming the parchment.) Broil for 4-5 minutes until the glaze starts to caramelize but the fish is still very tender. 

This pairs beautifully with sautéed shiitake mushrooms, purple kale and swiss chard. Add sliced garlic, slivered ginger and chopped scallions for the last few minutes of cooking and then drizzle with soy sauce and sesame oil just before serving.

Blood Orange and Miso-Glazed Salmon

Indian Make-In

A sore throat and persistent headache sent me home early today. I had a hunch I might not be leaving my house for a day or so. On my way home I swung by the grocer to grab ginger, chicken broth, chicken thighs, escarole and milk for tomorrow’s coffee.

For lunch I whipped up a quick soup by simmering the chicken in broth along with some chopped ginger. When the chicken was cooked through, I pulled it out and added soba noodles. Just before serving, I added the meat (now shredded) along with escarole, soy sauce, scallions, cayenne pepper, cilantro and a few drops of sesame oil.

Chicken Soba Soup

For a brief moment I could breathe clearly and my throat did not ache.

I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on email and dialing in to various meetings. At some point I managed to knock a nearly full bottle of red wine from the kitchen counter while attempting to make myself a cup of tea.

Red WIne Carnage

Naturally, I did not have any paper towels in the house. Cleanup was quite a chore, as was extracting the glass shard that lodged itself under my pinky nail.

By the time I finished, my stomach was growling. I was craving something spicy that would again offer temporary relief from what I am praying is just a cold. I debated making another bowl of soup, but then I flashed on Friday’s late night Indian takeout, which was truly awful. I swear one of the dishes was a can of chickpeas with some curry powder and vegetable oil stirred in and then heated in the microwave.

Surely I could do better with whatever ingredients I had on hand.

Indian Make-In

  • 1/2 tablespoon whole coriander seeds
  • 1/2 tablespoon whole cumin seeds
  • 1 cup plain whole milk yogurt
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon garam masala
  • 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
  • 5 garlic cloves
  • 1 knob ginger (about the size of your thumb, unless you have monster hands), chopped
  • juice of 1 lime (or a Meyer lemon if that’s what you happen to have on hand)
  • salt and pepper
  • 4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
  • 1 tablespoon ghee (or butter or vegetable oil of some sort)
  • 1 bunch kale, large stems stripped, roughly chopped
  • 1 pinch sugar
  • 1 medium red onion, sliced pole to pole
  • cilantro (if you got it)
  1. Toast the cumin and coriander in a dry cast iron skillet, shaking frequently, until they give off an earthy aroma and darken a bit. Add these along with the yogurt, cayenne, garam masala, turmeric, garlic, ginger, lime juice, a healthy pinch of salt and some black pepper to the small work bowl of your food processor and let run for several minutes. Stir this in with the chicken thighs in a bowl, cover and refrigerate until you decide that you really need to eat. (Overnight would be awesome, but mine sat for about an hour and it was still damn tasty.)
  2. Bring a cast iron skillet up to medium-high heat with the ghee. Fish the chicken thighs out with a fork, allowing the excess marinade to fall back into the bowl before you place them in the skillet. When the thighs begin to brown, flip them over and baste with the pan juices. Flip back and forth a couple of times continuing to baste. Don’t worry too much about the crust that’s forming (provided your pan is well seasoned). 
  3. Meanwhile, scrape the leftover marinade into a small saucepan and bring up to medium-high heat. Add the kale in batches, along with a cup or so of water and a pinch of sugar. Let this continue to boil, adding water if needed. (You’re aiming for something approximating spicy creamed spinach.) You may opt to add additional salt, pepper or cayenne as indicated.
  4. When the chicken thighs are done, set them aside and give the pan a good scrape, transferring the crusty bits to your simmering kale. Add the red onion to your skillet and cook, stirring frequently, until limp and nicely charred in spots. Cilantro would be awesome to finish the dish. Alas, I tossed it all into my chicken soup.

Indian Make-In

If I were serving this for company, I would have made a pot of Basmati rice. Instead, I packed half away for tomorrow and added a dollop of mango chutney.

You know what would have been good with this meal? A nice glass of red wine. Sigh.