Kale & Quinoa

I’m working from home today in a desperate bid to focus on the 300-page curriculum that needs to be edited by Friday. Fortunately, I picked up a new stash of CSA vegetables last night, so I had plenty of food on hand for my working-from-home lunch.

And so, in honor of National Kale Day, I present you with a recipe fit for ladies who lunch (in their sweatpants)…

Kale and Quinoa Salad

  • 1 cup uncooked quinoa
  • 4 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 small onions, thinly sliced
  • 2 garlic scapes or garlic cloves, thinly sliced
  • 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced
  • 2 sweet peppers, any color but dark green, diced
  • 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
  • 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
  • 1 bunch kale, cut into thin strips
  • 1 bunch curly parsley, roughly chopped
  • 1/4 cup raw sunflower seeds
  • Salt and pepper
  1. Thoroughly rinse the quinoa, add two cups of water, and bring to a boil along with a good pinch of salt. Lower heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes until quinoa is tender and water is absorbed.
  2. Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a cast iron skillet over medium low heat and add the onion, stirring frequently until soft and starting to brown. Then add the garlic and cook for a few more minutes before adding your peppers. Cook until the peppers are tender but still firm. Turn off the heat and add some salt and black pepper.
  3. Whisk the Dijon mustard, white wine vinegar and some black pepper in the bottom of a large bowl. Gradually whisk the remaining two tablespoons of olive oil into your dressing and then add the kale, stirring to ensure that each piece is coated.
  4. When the kale is just starting to wilt and the quinoa, peppers and onions have all cooled a bit, mix them together along with the parsley and sunflower seeds. Let sit for 20 minutes or until you need a copyediting break.

Kale and Quinoa Salad

This recipe makes enough for three or four lunches and is perfectly happy to marinate for a few days in the fridge. Double it and you’ve got a great contribution to a potluck picnic. I threw some halved cherry tomatoes on top for my lunch and may add some feta cheese when I have it for dinner.

Classic Bruschetta

As those who know me well know well, I rarely cook the same thing twice. I am constantly exploring and experimenting. I credit my parents for allowing me to do my own thing in the kitchen at a very early age. (Somewhere there is a photo of a four-year-old me standing naked on a chair preparing scrambled eggs.)

But this weekend I was reminded that classic dishes became classics for a reason.

After a stroll through Prospect Park (air cast be damned), I swung through the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket where, despite the CSA bounty overflowing my refrigerator, I couldn’t resist picking up Italian eggplant, basil, and Bread Alone‘s insanely delicious whole wheat sourdough. On my stroll home, I devised a plan to toast the bread, slather it in ricotta cheese, and top it with basil, fresh peaches, black pepper, and perhaps a drizzle of honey. While I have no doubt that this dish would be delicious, the thick mold on top of my ricotta forced me to make other plans.

(Fairly) Classic Bruschetta

  • 2 slices whole wheat sourdough or other good quality bread of your choosing
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
  • 1 medium tomato, chopped and sprinkled with salt
  • 10 basil leaves, thinly sliced
  • salt and pepper
  • 1 teaspoon red wine vinegar (optional)
  1. Bring half a tablespoon of olive oil up to medium heat in a cast iron skillet. Add the garlic and cook stirring constantly until just tender but not yet browned. Remove garlic to cutting board, lower heat a bit, and add your bread slices.
  2. While your bread toasts, finely chop the cooked garlic and combine with the tomato, basil, and remaining olive oil in a small bowl. Taste and add a little salt, pepper, and/or red wine vinegar as desired. (My tomato was far more sweet than acidic, so the vinegar balanced it nicely.)
  3. Flip your bread and toast the other side while your tomatoes macerate a bit. Assemble and enjoy.

Classic Bruschetta

The simplicity of this classic dish is what makes it so perfect. Tragically, I ate my last tomato when I prepared this on Saturday. Here’s hoping tomorrow’s CSA share brings another batch!

EAT THIS: Late Summer Vegetable Melange

Late Summer Vegetable MelangeSautéed red onions, green beans and corn seasoned with red pepper flakes, hot paprika, black pepper and smoked salt and topped with sliced tomato and a sprinkle of feta cheese can be your dinner in about 20 minutes–leaving plenty of time for the 200 pages you have left to read before tomorrow’s class.

Grilled Edamame

I’m writing from my favorite sushi spot which, as luck would have it, is just a few blocks from my apartment. I worked my CSA shift tonight and, despite having just picked up two bags’ worth of glorious fruits and vegetables, hunger compelled me to stop off for some chirashi. The fish was great, as always, but the steamed edamame that came on my platter seemed like a sad afterthought.

This reminded me that I’d been meaning to post about grilled edamame. When last in Baltimore, I dined at a swanky Japanese restaurant with an exceptional happy hour. Edamame were a mere $1.88, so I figured I’d order some to soak up the mystery punch I was drinking. (When in doubt, order the punch.) The edamame that arrived were a revelation. After some liberal sampling, I hazarded that grilling was the key.

As luck would have it, a few days later, I found myself in a beach house with a grill…

Grilled Edamame

As with so many good recipes, this one starts with a cocktail or two. I leave that part up to you and your bartender of choice. Once everyone is good and liquored up, determine that someone should do something about dinner.

Oh wait, that someone is you.

Fortunately, you threw those t-bones in a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and a whole mess of garlic before you left for the beach this morning. But there are skewers to be soaked, vegetables to be cut, and shit, you’re almost out of olive oil. Dispatch one of your housemates to a neighboring rental house to scavenge.

In the meantime, pull the bag of edamame in their shells out of the freezer and toss them with whatever oil you have left, some black pepper, and that strange pre-mixed rib rub that seems to come with every beach house. You could defrost the edamame. You could make your own seasoning mix. But this is vacation cooking.

Fire up the grill, taking care not to do the same to your caftan. Noting the charred remains of asparagus, onions, and peppers that slipped through the cracks during previous evenings’ grilling adventures, retrieve the top portion of the broiler pan from the oven and stick it on the grill. When the grill is good and hot, spread the edamame across your makeshift vegetable basket, shut the lid, and sear away.

Discover that your housemate has returned from his mission with olive oil and a stockpile of wine that the folks in the other house didn’t think they could finish before their checkout tomorrow. Don’t mind if you do.

Open the grill and push your edamame around to get an even distribution of tasty charred bits. Note that the grill has mysteriously turned itself off. After attempting to relight the grill, conclude that you’ve run out of propane. Shut the grill and cross your fingers that the carryover heat will be adequate to finish these babies because, now that you think of it, you’re rather peckish.

Contemplate broiling the steaks in the oven. Discard that idea once it’s determined that another housemate is a couple of cocktails behind and can still drive to the big grocery store to exchange the propane tank. Pour yourself another glass of wine and check on the edamame. Lo and behold they are done. And they are good.

Grilled Edamame

EAT THIS: Squash and Ricotta Salata Frittata

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A squash, onion, garlic scape, basil and Ricotta Salata frittata with hot paprika is a lovely way to feed your sister/cat sitter and use up last week’s CSA share before hopping a bus headed south. Pack this week’s veggies in a shoebox and you’ve got a lovely hostess gift for your waiting friends.

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Blueberries, Basil & Butter (Lettuce)

As those who know and (miraculously, still) love me are aware, I am not a morning person. But work has been brutal, so I went in a full hour and a half early today in an effort to get a jump start. Ten hours later, I dashed out the door. I managed to bang out a few more emails on the subway ride to pick up my weekly CSA share, which included butter leaf lettuce, blueberries and two cucumbers that mocked me for the four I still had stashed from last week. On my kitchen counter was some fresh basil my neighbors gave me when I dropped off the keys so they could watch my cat. (How’s that for a good trade?)

I’ve still got a number of hours of work tonight, including a hundred-mile drive due East. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to have a tasty and nutritious meal first.

Blueberry, Basil and Butter Lettuce Salad

  • 3 tablespoons goat milk yogurt (This would ideally be at room temperature or close to it.)
  • 1 tablespoon honey vinegar (Champagne vinegar or even rice wine vinegar would be fine.)
  • 1 tablespoon coconut oil
  • 3 thinly sliced scallions
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 1 pinch salt
  • freshly ground pepper
  • 1 head butter lettuce, rinsed and dried thoroughly
  • 1 large cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced at an angle (I used an Asian cucumber, which was YUM.)
  • 1 cup blueberries
  • 20 basil leaves, chiffonaded (rolled in a bunch like an, um, cigarette and then sliced thinly)
  • 1 ounce feta or goat cheese (While you could skip this if serving with a meal, this WAS my meal.)
  1. Combine the yogurt, vinegar, oil, scallions, honey, salt and pepper in a small jar. Put the lid on and shake vigorously until the honey has dissolved.
  2. Tear the lettuce into a small bowl, adding the cucumbers, blueberries, basil and any cheese you choose to use. Drizzle with the dressing, toss and dig in.

Blueberry SaladThis came out much better than expected. There was a certain harmony of flavors that transcended what were already some delightfully fresh ingredients. There was also a lightness I couldn’t place until halfway through wolfing my salad down, when I remembered that I had opted for coconut rather than olive oil. Trust me on this one.

Summer Squash Frittata

Yesterday Leila and Rubina–roommates who are just as lovely as their names imply–hosted a brunchecue at Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Surveying my refrigerator while sipping my morning coffee, I determined to unload some of the three dozen eggs that I had amassed from my CSA. (They’re so good that I can’t resist getting an egg share but, even splitting it with a friend and neighbor, I still find the sheer quantity a bit daunting.) I was tempted to make deviled eggs, but transporting that many would be a challenge–particularly since I had to make a pit stop in Park Slope before heading to the brunchecue. I also had an abundance of summer squash, which I imagined would make for a lovely frittata. I was right.

Summer Squash, Scape and Basil Frittata

  • 3 medium summer squash (green, yellow or a mix), sliced into 1/4 inch disks
  • 4 garlic scapes (or some garlic or onions or whatever), thinly sliced
  • 1/4-1/3 cup olive oil
  • 1 dozen eggs
  • 30-40 basil leaves, chiffonaded 
  • 1 tablespoon hot paprika
  • salt and pepper
  1. Heat two tablespoons olive oil in a large cast iron skillet over medium heat. Add the scapes and sauté until the aroma of garlic makes you a little dizzy. Scoop the scapes onto a plate and add the first round of squash. Work in batches, flipping the squash disks once they start to brown. Add oil as needed and sprinkle each round with salt as they come out of the pan.
  2. Turn the burner down to medium-low and add a couple more tablespoons of olive oil. Preheat the oven to 425. Crack a dozen eggs into a large bowl. Add the paprika, salt and pepper and whisk thoroughly. Switching to a wooden spoon, gently mix the scapes, squash and basil into the eggs. If you want to get fancy about it, reserve your prettiest squash rounds and some whole basil leaves.
  3. If you’re aiming for a Martha-worthy flourish, arrange the reserved squash and basil in the bottom of your pan. Either way, gently pour the egg mixture into the pan, pressing any rogue squash pieces down. Let cook on the stove top for five minutes or so and then toss into the preheated oven.
  4. Your frittata is done when it has puffed up and the eggs have set. Pull it out of the oven and gently separate any edges that may have stuck with a heat-proof spatula or wooden spoon. When it’s cool enough to handle and you are satisfied that the frittata is no longer clinging to the pan, place a platter or cutting board on top and flip. If all goes well, the frittata should drop onto your serving dish. If not, just stick the pieces back together and call it brunch.

This is what your frittata will look like before it goes into the oven:Pre-Oven

And this is what it will look like when it comes out:Post-Oven

The fancified version should look something like this once it’s flipped:Summer Squash Frittata

The park’s new Picnic Peninsula features long tables fashioned of salvaged wood, umbrellas that make a valiant attempt to shade one from the relentless sun, Hibachi-style grills, and glorious views of Lower Manhattan. I arrived early with a serious appetite. Tragically, a plate of rice salad, sweet and sour chickpeas, kibbeh, and grilled chicken wings left me too stuffed to do more than sample a few bites of the endless stream of food that arrived along with old and new friends throughout the afternoon. Sundried tomato sausage from everyone’s favorite Brooklyn pork store, gazpacho, quinoa salad, fresh tomatoes with tofu and basil, cherries, beef strips rolled around cheese and bread crumbs, watermelon, vegan beer brats, vegetable kebabs, and homemade desserts were strewn across 30 feet of table.

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By 4:30, I had hit maximum sun capacity and decided to head up to Atlantic Avenue for shade, bathrooms, and a couple of cold beers before making the trek home. On the way out, I remembered to grab my now empty platter.