When your collard greens are young, tender and oh-so-sweet, a quick sauté with leeks, garlic and red pepper flakes is all you need–well, that and a piece of grilled whole wheat sourdough slathered in fresh ricotta cheese. This is spring eating at its finest.
The weather this weekend has been nothing short of glorious. After a long, hard winter, New Yorkers are eager for sundresses and sandals, outdoor drinking, and fresh vegetables. Alas, yesterday’s farmers’ market foray yielded less greenery than I had hoped. I did manage to pick up a couple bunches of small, tender collard greens and a clamshell of spring onion shoots.
The rest of Saturday was spent drinking Bloody Marys, craft beer and some ill-advised whiskey in a series of Brooklyn backyards. We capped the day off with a couple of hours of dancing to 60s soul tunes.
I awoke early this morning with a distinct craving for fried pork dumplings, perhaps with a moo shu chaser. But this didn’t seem like the best way to regain my health after a weekend of possibly excessive imbibing. And so I set about crafting a healthier dish that would take advantage of my farmers’ market bounty and satisfy my salt and spice craving.
Garlic-Ginger Tofu & Collards
Combine the first eight ingredients in a shallow bowl. Add the tofu and stir gently to coat. (In a perfect world, you would have done this before you were ravenous so that the tofu had plenty of time to soak up the marinade, but my lunch was still pretty tasty.) Bring the oil up to medium heat in a large skillet. Lay the tofu pieces in, cooking them in two batches if necessary so as not to crowd the pan. Let the tofu cook undisturbed until nicely browned, rotate the pieces and continue to cook until they are firm and mostly browned. Lay the tofu pieces on a paper towel to drain and add your collards to the skillet along with the remaining tofu marinade. Cook until the collards are wilted and most of the liquid has boiled off. Stir in the onion shoots or scallions and remove from the heat.
Rice would be the obvious accompaniment, but I went with quinoa cooked with chicken stock and satueed leeks. It was good. The leftovers should make for a bright spot in tomorrow’s workday.
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
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.
On Sunday I hosted a potluck dinner for some of the amazing women I met/got to know a whole lot better during last summer’s two-week Paris study trip.
As expected, the menu was eclectic, seasonal and delicious. We had deviled eggs, cucumber salad, carrots and radicchio roasted with raisins and balsamic vinegar, a soba noodle salad, roasted fennel, and an array of not-kosher-for-Passover bread products. Camille, who came straight from her job at Threes Brewing, contributed to the chametz situation with a nice growler of IPA.
I’m still working my way through the potatoes from my winter CSA share, so I whipped up a batch of caramelized leek and cheddar potato skins. And, despite my indulgence in all manners of leavened grains, I felt compelled to make up for not having attended a seder this year by making matzo ball soup–albeit a vegetarian and Asian-inspired version.
Miso-Spinach Matzo Balls
I worried that the soak would lead to a container of starchy mush. But these matzo balls hold beautifully, requiring nothing but a quick simmer in the broth of your choosing the next day. I went with a hot and sour tom yum-style vegetable broth with lots of fresh ginger and lemongrass, garnished with shiitake mushrooms and cilantro. The resulting dish was complex in flavor yet familiar enough in texture to evoke memories of the Maxwell House Haggadah and Manischewitz. Fortunately, Sari brought better wine.
Prior to moving to New York City way back in 1996, I had never encountered egg and cheese on a roll. This dish is a staple of the New York deli–and an essential ingredient when you need to rally the morning after.
I moved into my first roommate-free apartment in 2002. It was a charming mini-loft near the South Street Seaport. Feeling rather fabulous and grown, I decorated my apartment in high bachelor pad style and took up whiskey drinking. Consequently, I spent many a morning lolling about on my retro fabulous couch weighing my desire for an egg and cheese on a roll against my desire to never put on pants again.
And then it dawned on me. Why not treat my aching head and gurgling gut in the comfort of my own home? It is the rare day that I do not have eggs, butter and some sort of cheese in the house. If I could just manage to pick up a bread product on the way home, I should be good to go.
Fry an egg and stick it on a toasted roll with some cheese, right? Alas, this seemingly simple sandwich was not quite as straightforward as I thought. My early efforts yielded cold, hard cheese and bread that was crispy and scraped at the roof of my mouth. Over time I developed a few simple tweaks that helped things along.
But the game changer came when I introduced aluminum foil. The key to that perfect deli version, I discovered, is wrapping your completed dish in foil for a few minutes. This allows the cheese to get a bit melty while the steam softens the roll, yielding a cohesive, gooey and delicious mess of a sandwich.
And so I give you…
Egg & Cheese on a Roll
Bring a large cast iron skillet up to medium-low heat. Swirl half a tablespoon of butter in the pan. Slice your roll in half and set cut-side down to one side of the skillet, pressing down a bit. Thinly slice an ounce of cheese of your choice. Crack an egg into the other half of your skillet. Tear off a square piece of aluminum foil. (Heavy duty is best.) Flip your roll and allow to toast on the other side. When your egg is mostly set, give it a quick flip to firm up the white. Place one half of the roll on the foil, layer with cheese, scoop the egg on top, add salt and pepper, top with the other half of your roll, and wrap tightly in foil. Allow to sit for a few minute while you get yourself another glass of water, which you probably should have been drinking the night before.
While this dish is a godsend after a night of over-imbibing, I am here to attest that it is also a lovely way to reward yourself after skidding across icy sidewalks for a morning yoga class on a cold and rainy Sunday.
Yesterday morning I met a film crew at Walt L. Shamel Community Garden to discuss the future of food and the importance of community self-determination.
There aren’t enough layers in the world to make two hours of standing around in 10-degree weather pleasant. A full 36 hours later, I was still craving something warm and comforting. As luck would have it, my evening meeting was canceled, affording me my first night at home in over a week. Even better, kale and squash from Saturday’s CSA share were waiting for me.
Pasta with Lacinato Kale & Creamy Delicata Squash
Half an hour after you walked in the door, you’ll be sitting down to a healthy, hearty and seasonal meal…and Season Five of Downton Abbey.
I fly to Florida in six hours for a healthy dose of sunshine and family. But first I’m headed to Christmas dinner with friends, presenting an excellent opportunity to unload some of the potatoes that are piling up from my winter CSA share.
Potato Gratin with Mustard & Gruyere
OK, I haven’t actually tried this yet, as I still have to transport it to Williamsburg along with myself and my suitcase. But, given the ingredients, I have trouble imagining it will not be delicious.
Last night’s dinner was bay scallops atop a fennel, arugula, Golden Delicious and red onion salad dressed with a sesame oil and rice wine vinaigrette.
The peppery arugula and the bite of the red onion helped to offset all that sweet. But something was missing. Were I a fancy chef, one of my kitchen crew would have arrived early that morning to prepare some puffed rice to add a dry, crispy element and my sommelier would have paired it with a crisp, lemony Sancerre. Alas, I am not a fancy chef. And so I ate my salad as is, standing at the kitchen counter, with a glass of the Pinot Noir that was already open. You could do worse for a Tuesday.
I arrived home tonight bearing king oyster mushrooms that one of my coworkers grew in quart jars full of coffee grounds in his apartment.
Jorge left the mushrooms in the office fridge, inviting us to help ourselves, provided we cooked them up and reported back on how they tasted. Um, they were good. Really good.
The king oyster mushroom’s unique shape–coupled with memories of last night’s good but not great dinner–inspired me to prepare them as though they were scallops. I’d be willing to bet that this technique would work well with all manners of fancy mushrooms. But it will lack a certain surreality.
Pappardelle with King Oyster Mushrooms & Arugula (a.k.a. This Is Not a Scallop)
This should make enough for your dinner tonight and Jorge’s lunch tomorrow. Alternately, we could all agree not to tell Jorge and keep both servings for ourselves.
This was a very, very long week. I left the office late on Friday and met up with a friend for dinner, drinks and some mutual commiseration. I was feeling a bit better after shrimp-stuffed bacon-wrapped jalapeño peppers and a couple of mezcal, Campari and red vermouth concoctions. We headed down to Film Forum for the late showing of Vertigo. The theater was mysteriously empty, so I did not feel compelled to jab Louis when he started to snore softly next to me. Like I said, it was a rough week.
We emerged a couple of hours later into what felt alarmingly like winter. Louis walked me to the subway station. Two hours, three trains and a walk across Lower Manhattan later (I do not recommend taking the 2/3 this weekend), I arrived home, filled the humidifier and burrowed under the covers. I should be catching up on work emails. I should be completing the work from my summer course. I should be hauling the compost to the farmers’ market. I should be cleaning my apartment.
Instead, I made breakfast.
Kale & Leek Croque-Madame
If I accomplish nothing else, I will still consider today a success.
When today promises to be even longer than yesterday and you’re not sure when your next meal will be, start with toasted whole wheat sourdough slathered in ricotta and topped with sliced plums, honey, fresh thyme and black pepper. This pairs nicely with a latte and some last-minute packing for a much-needed weekend getaway.
the drunken fig 