Ratatouille Three Ways

This isn’t so much a recipe as a concept–one that employs the summer’s bounty and yields a nice supper, brunch for two, and an afternoon snack, all with minimal effort.

Make Ahead: 1) Crank the oven up to 400 and chop up whatever summer vegetables you have on hand. I used zucchini, yellow squash, fairy tale eggplant, and the roots and bulb of a bunch of baby fennel (which, YUM). 2) Toss the vegetables with a good quantity of olive oil, salt and pepper in a large roasting pan and pop it in the oven. 3) Let cook until you start to smell something really good. Give the vegetables a good stir and return to the oven until they are soft and nicely browned. This can be done a day ahead of time.

Summer Vegetables for Roasting

For Dinner: 1) sauté onion, garlic and red pepper flakes in some olive oil. 2) Add some chopped fresh tomato and cook just briefly before adding some of your roasted vegetables. 3) Stir in some freshly boiled al dente pasta, allowing a little of the pasta water to form a loose sauce. (I was feeding a friend who avoids gluten, so I went with a brown rice pasta, which was surprisingly tasty and toothsome.) 4) Cook for a minute or so, remove from heat, and toss with some fresh basil. 5) Serve with a nice dollop of ricotta cheese.

For Brunch the Next Day: 1) Set the oven to 400 and repeat steps one and two above, adding in all of your leftover roasted vegetables and substituting a fresh jalapeño for the red pepper flakes if you happen to have one on hand. 2) Stir in some fresh basil. 3) Reserve about a third of the mixture and spoon the rest into individual baking dishes, forming a hollow in the center. Crack a couple of eggs into each dish and pop into the oven until the eggs are just set.

Ratatouille Shirred Eggs Before

Ratatouille Shirred Eggs

For an Afternoon Snack: 1) Toast some nice bread in a dry cast iron skillet over medium heat. 2) Top with the last of your ratatouille.

Ratatouille Bruschetta

And that, my friends, is how you consume two zucchini, two yellow squash, a large bunch of baby fennel, half a pound of eggplant, three onions, a head of garlic, a bouquet of purple basil, and one jalapeño pepper in 24 hours.

Summer Squash & Kale Bruschetta

I arrived home in the wee hours of Tuesday morning after a truly amazing study trip to Paris. Eighteen of us spent two weeks examining the performance of Frenchness through food. As you might imagine, we ate quite a bit in the process. We did not, however, encounter fresh vegetables in the quantity that Food Studies scholars are accustomed to eating. By day four, we were all obsessing about dark leafy greens, which were nowhere to be found.

What we did encounter was bread. There were crusty baguettes from the anarchist collective, rustic country loaves steeped in a studied old world charm, slender and elegant ficelles, impossibly buttery croissants a mere three blocks from our uninspired hotel, luscious eggy brioches encased in glass bells, and a particularly memorable seed-encrusted whole wheat loaf that we consumed in an impromptu picnic on the steps of the Musee d’Orsay.

But one bread emerged as the clear winner. My final day in Paris found me stashing my suitcase in a locker and (finally) mastering the bike share system with a single goal. I traveled from the 15th to the 10th arrondissement to purchase a hunk of Du Pain et Des Idees‘ sublime pain des amis.

Du Pain et Des Idees

As those who have had occasion to dine with me know, I’m not much of a bread eater. It can be helpful for transporting sandwich fillings into your mouth or sopping up egg yolk, but I prefer to take my cheese straight, or perhaps with a crisp apple slice. Bread fills space in one’s stomach that could be devoted to more tantalizing fare. Or so I thought before I encountered pain des amis. This nutty, toothsome loaf with its confounding bacon aroma is good all by itself. It is even better, I have learned, toasted in a dry cast iron skillet.

Pain des Amis

The pain des amis and I survived a rather harrowing bike ride on some of Paris’ main thoroughfares, a painfully expensive taxi to Charles de Gaulle airport, a troubling but comical security encounter involving two kilos of artisanal flour, a missed connection in London, a delayed flight, and an even pricier cab ride home from Newark (which was not our intended destination).

Staying awake until a suitable bedtime was about all I was good for on Tuesday. (Well, that and some cat cuddling.) I headed out around 5:30 to pick up my weekly CSA share and nearly wept at the site of all those vegetables. I had some truly spectacular food in Paris. I did not, however, encounter any kale. I returned home eager to introduce my pain des amis to all of this fresh produce.

CSA Vegetables

Summer Squash & Kale Bruschetta

  • 2 scallions
  • 3 thin slices good bread
  • 1 medium summer squash
  • 5 stalks purple kale
  • 1 ounce feta cheese
  • 6 basil leaves (mint or parsley would also be great)
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons good quality olive oil
  • 1/2 lemon (zest and juice)
  • pinch Aleppo pepper (or a little less red pepper)
  • salt and pepper
  1. Bring a cast iron skillet up to medium low heat with half a tablespoon of olive oil. Trim and reserve the dark green portion of the scallions. Slice the white and light green portions lengthwise into strips. Cook, flipping occasionally, until limp and starting to brown. Sprinkle with salt and remove from pan.
  2. Place bread slices into pan and allow to toast, flipping as needed, while you go about the next steps.
  3. Using a vegetable peeler, shave long ribbons of summer squash into a small bowl. Slice the kale as you would for a slaw and add this to the bowl along with the feta, remaining olive oil, lemon juice and lemon zest, Aleppo pepper, and salt and pepper. Mince the scallion greens and fresh herbs. Add these plus the cooked scallions. Stir to combine and let sit for at least five minutes to allow the flavors to meld.

If you were serving this as an hors d’oeuvre, I would recommend piling the kale and squash salad onto small pieces of toast and serving immediately. I went for a deconstructed bruschetta, which ensured that the bread didn’t get soggy before I ate it.

Summer Squash and Kale Bruschetta

 

Greek-Style Kale Salad

This not the refrigerator of someone about to leave the country for two weeks.

Packed Fridge

I am weak in the face of the season’s bounty. Having already overbought at last Saturday’s greenmarket, Tuesday found me dashing home to Brooklyn after work to collect my first CSA share of the season before hopping a train back into the city for four hours (seriously) of Alison Krauss and Willie Nelson at Radio City Music Hall. I’ve done my best to eat my way through all of these vegetables, but that’s a tall order when you’re pulling a 60-hour week.

Late Wednesday I made myself a salad of red leaf lettuce, radishes, strawberries, scallions and fresh herbs. This was damn pretty, but didn’t quite come together flavor-wise. Had I to do it over again, I’d eliminate the radishes and let some of the strawberries macerate in the dressing for a bit before assembling the salad.

Radish and Strawberry Salad

Thursday night found me at yet another work event. I wrapped my week and celebrated the beginning of a much-needed two-week vacation with swanky hotel bar cocktails and some down and dirty Indian food.

I awoke this morning determined to get through my stockpile of vegetables in the 32 hours before my departure for the airport. Noting that I still had almost a full pint of luscious (and decidedly not cheap) goat milk yogurt, I started the day with this Greek-inspired kale salad. A latte and a hard-boiled egg left over from last weekend’s potato salad extravaganza made it breakfast.

Greek-Style Kale Salad

  • 1/4 cup good quality plain yogurt
  • pinch salt
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • 1 garlic scape, sliced into thin disks (or a little minced garlic)
  • 1/2 teaspoon Aleppo pepper (or a pinch of red pepper flakes)
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano (half as much fresh would be great if you have it)
  • 1 bunch lacinato kale, cut into 1/2″ shreds
  • 1/2 cup cherry or grape seed tomatoes, halved
  • 4 scallions, white and light green portions thinly sliced
  • 10-15 kalamata olives, roughly chopped
  • 1 tablespoon of the good olive oil

Combine the first seven ingredient in a small jar, shake vigorously and let sit while you prep the rest of the ingredients. Add the olive oil and give it another good shake. Add everything to a bowl, toss to combine and let sit for 15 minutes or so until kale begins to wilt and take on a glossy color.

Greek-Style Kale Salad

Those ill-fated radishes would have been great here, as would a little sliced cucumber. But it was still a damn tasty breakfast.

EAT THIS: Asparagus, Scallion & Ricotta Tartine

Asparagus Scallion and Ricotta Tartine

Top toasted whole grain bread with ricotta cheese, pan-grilled scallions and asparagus, lemon zest, salt and pepper for a quick and delicious breakfast when you’re eager to get out and smell the roses (literally if, like me, you’re lucky enough to live five minutes from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden).

EAT THIS: Fig, Avocado & Spinach Salad

Fig Avocado Spinach Salad

Figs, avocado, scallions and baby spinach in a mustard, honey, safflower oil and apple cider vinaigrette can be prepared and consumed in the 20 minutes between your arrival home from a board meeting and your 9:00pm conference call–though you may find yourself in need of a square of Jacques Torres’ Gingerette Bar to help everything settle.

Scallops, Arugula & Tomato-Olive Vinaigrette

This weekend was Beth and Don’s annual epic barbecue in Baltimore. In March Neil and I tagged along on a road trip down to Lang BBQ Smokers in Nahunta, Georgia to collect Don’s new baby.

Lang BBQ Smoker

Don spent the past couple of months seasoning his new cooker with lard and taking it on a few dry runs. But Sunday the beast fulfilled its true calling when a couple hundred people descended on Beth and Don’s home for a twelve-hour festival of meat. Tending the cooker was serious work, as I learned during my six-hour stint. I’ve got a handful of mystery bruises and what I can only assume is heat rash on my chest. When I blew my nose yesterday, it yielded something familiar in texture but black as, um, charcoal. Two days and two showers later, I still have a faint dirt ring in the crease in my neck. And the lovely dress pictured below will likely never be the same.

Jasmine on the BBQ

I got home around 8:00 last night and depart for my next adventure around noon tomorrow. Tonight I was craving some time on my couch and a light supper that required minimal heat. I swung by Mermaid’s Garden on my way home from the office and picked up some large and luscious dayboat scallops. Half an hour later, I was sitting down to this delicious salad and cuing up Sunday’s episode of Mad Men.

Scallops, Arugula & Tomato-Olive Vinaigrette

  • 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon whole grain Dijon mustard
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon or so hot Spanish paprika
  • 1 small shallot, minced
  • 8 assorted good quality olives (seasoned, stuffed, etc.), finely chopped
  • 1 medium tomato or 8 cherry tomatoes, finely chopped
  • 1 tablespoon small capers
  • 2 tablespoons chopped flat leaf parsley
  • pinch sugar
  • 1/2 pound dayboat scallops
  • 1/4 cup leftover white wine
  • salt and pepper
  • 3 cups arugula 
  1. Whisk the mustard and vinegar together in a bowl and then slowly whisk in 1 and 1/2 tablespoons olive oil until emulsified. Stir in 1/4 teaspoon or more of the paprika, the shallot, olives, tomatoes, capers, parsley, sugar and a good dose of black pepper. Allow this to marinate while you move on to your scallops.
  2. Bring 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil up to medium heat in a small heavy-bottomed skillet. Pat the scallops dry with a paper towel and sprinkle on both sides with salt, pepper and more of the paprika. Once the skillet is thoroughly heated, place the scallops in gently and resist the urge to touch them for about three minutes. Peek under one and, if it has some nice brown color, flip them all over and give them another three minutes or so. Remove the scallops, return the pan to the heat, add the white wine and stir, making sure to scrape up any crusty bits on the bottom. Reduce the wine to a couple of tablespoons.
  3. Lay your arugula on a plate, spoon the vinaigrette over the greens, place the scallops on top and drizzle them with the reduced wine.

Scallops, Arugula and Tomato Olive Vinaigrette

This would be great with some crusty bread. Alas, I had none.

Gingered Chicken Soup with Rice

I am suffering from my third stomach ailment this year. After two days of being laid up, my fever had broken and my energy was back. But a ten-hour workday, punctuated by kale salad, farro, beets and Brussels sprouts put me in my place. I woke out of a dead sleep at 4am and went to retrieve the recycling bin that had been my constant companion earlier in the week.

Somehow I managed to dress for work and get as far as my subway stop before giving up and returning home. On the way I stopped off at the grocery store for an array of easily digestible (mainly white) foods. Breakfast was plain white toast. For lunch, I moved on to a small banana and a can of Coke (a concession to my caffeine addiction). By 7:00pm, I was actually experiencing something that resembled hunger, but suspected I still needed to tread lightly.

I’ve made this soup before in various forms. The ginger is great for stomach ailments and clearing the sinuses. It cooks up in under half an hour and, if you’re feeling a little less peaked than I am at the moment, you can doctor it in all kinds of ways. Even the most basic version is a welcome flavor boost after white bread and bananas.

Gingered Chicken Soup with Rice

  • 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 knob ginger about the size of your last thumb joint, peeled and sliced into very thin matchsticks
  • 1 tablespoon tamari or soy sauce
  • freshly ground black and white pepper
  • 1 boneless skinless chicken breast
  • 1/4 cup Jasmine or other long-grain white rice
  • Optional additional ingredients: rice noodles, egg noodles, spinach, egg, scallions, chives, Sriracha, sesame oil, cilantro
  1. Add the first four ingredients to a small pot, bring to a boil and reduce to a very low simmer. Add the chicken and simmer gently until just cooked through (7-10 minutes). Remove chicken.
  2. Add the rice and continue to simmer for 15 minutes or until tender. Meanwhile, shred your chicken using two forks. When the rice is cooked, slide the chicken back in and simmer another minute or two.
  3. The above makes a lovely, restorative soup. If you want to take it a step or two further, at this point you could do any or all of the following 1) swap rice noodles or egg noodles for the rice (and adjust the cooking time accordingly), 2) add spinach leaves and simmer until just wilted, 3) stir in a lightly mixed egg, 4) garnish with thinly sliced scallions or chives, 5) stir in a shot of Sriracha, 6) drizzle with a little toasted sesame oil, 7) sprinkle with cilantro leaves before serving. 

Gingered Chicken Soup with Rice

UPDATE: The chicken breasts came three to a pack, so I continued the theme throughout the week. Here’s a version with daikon radish, turnip, parsley and sesame oil that I made the next day, once my stomach had started to recover. The parsley was a sorry substitute for cilantro, but this iteration was otherwise delicious.

Daikon Turnip Chicken Soup

A few days later, when the craving for fiber and complex carbohydrates had kicked in, I swapped the rice for a thinly sliced sweet potato and stirred a bunch of baby spinach and a lightly whisked egg in at the last minute. This was a very nice reentry into my normal food patterns.

Chicken Sweet Potato Spinach Soup

(Not So) Fat Tuesday

Today is Mardi Gras. While my heart is in New Orleans, my stomach and my workload call for something a little more austere. I got home around 8:00pm after a long day of work followed by school, By 8:30, I was sitting down to a healthy, tasty meal and a couple of episodes of Treme.

Mardi Gras Mask The Drunken Fig in more celebratory times

Vegan Smothered Cabbage

  1. Crack open a good quality dark beer. Bring 2 tablespoons of olive oil up to medium heat in a large cast iron skillet. Add a medium red onion sliced poll to poll and cook until starting to brown. Add a good pinch of red pepper flakes.
  2. Stir in one thinly-sliced tofurky andouille sausage (or, if you’re looking for something a little more indulgent, go for the pork) and cook until it begins to crisp. Then add half a head of green cabbage, shredded as if you were making a slaw, along with a healthy dose of salt and pepper
  3. When the cabbage is wilted but still a bit crisp, add as much beer as you’re willing to sacrifice to deglaze your pan. Cook for another minute or two and then empty the contents of your pan into a low bowl. Serve with Zatarain’s Creole Mustard. (In a pinch, you could substitute any nice whole grain mustard.)

Vegan Smothered Cabbage