bites out of life

Chana Masala

So much of how my family cooks involves guesswork. Measurements are made by eyeballing it, or if we’re being a bit more accurate, palmfuls. (Let’s not even discuss variability in palm sizes and the confusion that might create.) The most important elements of cooking become the sights, smells, feels, sounds (the pops of cumin seeds frying in oil, for example), and especially, taste. It is an extremely sensory experience, cooking with my family, one that would be totally fabulous if it wasn’t so hard to replicate when you’re 250 miles away.

Because no one ever writes anything down, trying to make something the way my mom or dad does is an epic challenge. There’s the obvious built-in anxiety / fear of failure that comes with recreating a dish that you grew up eating (What if it doesn’t come out exactly the way my mom and grandmother and great-grandmother made it? Does that mean I’m unfit to carry on the line??), with the added difficulty of trying to decipher a very loosely cobbled-together set of instructions: a little bit of this + a little bit of that, fried together until it smells fragrant. How much of this? equal amounts of that? How fragrant? It’s no wonder that the bulk of my Indian cooking takes place under parental supervision in Maryland.*

Chana masala is a very popular Punjabi dish made with chickpeas. Recipes vary, but basic components are garlic, ginger, tomatoes, turmeric, coriander, cumin and chili pepper. The game-changer is the slightly tart acidic note, usually added in the form of amchoor (dried mango) powder. It is sometimes served with large puffy fried bread, called bhature, in which case the dish is called chole bhature. (That’s the version my mom usually makes, but I didn’t make the bhature because it involves yeast … ick.)

My mom’s version is apparently less authentic, since it relies on a hefty squeeze of lemon juice for chana masala’s signature tartness. That’s fine by me, since it’s one less spice I have to buy (and we all know how I feel about buying spices). She doesn’t make it that frequently and I crave it often, so I was very happy to discover that the recipe is pretty easy — at least once the guessing game is over. Luckily for you, I’ve worked out a version that tastes close enough to what my mom makes to be completely satisfying.

One note on serving: while you could be relatively traditional and eat the chana masala with naan or even rice, I heartily recommend eating it like a dip with tortilla chips. My sister and I used to do this all the time and it is de.lish.ous.

*The process of making this gajar halwa by myself included multiple emails, at least 7 phone calls, as well as a frantic picture text. BUT making this chana masala only required one call, and I got to send a triumphant “I did it right!” picture text. That’s called growth, people. …

Irish Porter Cake

Five years ago on St. Patrick’s Day, I was in Dublin. There were parades, green everywhere and of course, lots of Guinness. I don’t really like Guinness — it’s too heavy for me — but since I was in Ireland, I thought I should do as the Irish do …

Day 1 of my tour of the city included a trip to the Guinness Factory, where they demonstrate how the beer is made, let you pull draughts of Guinness (I have a certificate for pulling a perfect pint!) and offer tastings and samples of different versions of the beer.

Along with the beer tastings, they offered small bites of dishes made with Guinness, the first time I had ever tasted something cooked with the beer. And while I don’t remember much about the beers that I tried, I do remember they served this bread with Guinness-smoked salmon, cream cheese and dill. I don’t even like smoked salmon but the bread was so good that I had thirds and fourths and still think about it from time to time. (I may have to bust out the conversion chart and make it for myself soon.)

As I would later find out, Guinness is used a lot in cooking, usually either as a braising liquid for beef or lamb or as an accompaniment to chocolate in desserts — its malty, slightly bitter sweetness is especially useful for desserts.

Guinness itself is the most popular brand of stout, a type of dark beer made with roasted malt or barley.* Stouts are related to porters, and when Guinness brewed its first beer in 1778, it was labeled a porter. So that’s why this is called “Porter Cake” even though its made with a stout beer.

The cake must be a very Irish thing, as there weren’t many recipes for it online and most of them were straight from Ireland. Apparently it’s traditional to eat it on St. Patrick’s Day, but also around Christmas time? (It resembles the much more elaborate English Christmas Cake, which is made at least a month in advance and is routinely soaked in brandy. WHOA.) My initial exposure to Porter Cake came from Epicurious, and from there, fell into a rabbit hole of porter cake recipe-viewing, finally deciding that nothing quite fit what I was going for and so I’d have to kind of make something on my own.

There seemed to be two types of methods for making the cake: one was to mix the dry ingredients, then add the dried fruit, etc. The other, which kept popping up on many of the super Irish sites (so I decided was more “traditional”), calls for heating the butter, sugar and beer in a saucepan and then cooking the dried fruit in there for a few minutes. This nutty, slightly bitter caramel will blow. your. mind. Seriously. I couldn’t stop eating the fruit right out of the pot, which is why my tongue will now be burnt for all eternity.

Once baked, this cake is traditionally wrapped in wax paper and stored in an airtight tin for a few days, allowing the flavors to really meld before it’s served. So what I’m saying is if you make it now, it’ll be ready for your St. Patrick’s Day revelry! (That’s what I’m here for, always looking out for you … )

As a non-lover of dried fruit, fruit cakes, and Guinness, I wasn’t sure how much I would ultimately like this. But this is nutty and zesty and caramel-y, with faint undertones of bitterness from the Guinness. There’s not a lot of sugar in here (mostly from the dried fruit), so the cake is not at all cloying. It is the ideal eat-with-coffee cake, perhaps an Irish coffee if you’re lucky.

*I know next to nothing about beer, so all of my stout and porter info came from The Kitchn and Wikipedia. …

Quick Vegetable Stew

I often find myself buying a spice to use in a specific recipe, using a teaspoon of said spice and then letting it languish on my shelf for months. (I’m looking at you onion powder and ground mustard.) While I’m pretty opposed to buying a rack of ingredients for just one use, some recipes require a special something-something that can’t really be replaced, so I fork over the $3 for a jar that I may never use again.

Cumin is the opposite of that. I use cumin in everything, from chili to tacos to curry to couscous (and so. much. more.) I go through so much cumin that, rather than trifling around with 3-ounce jars, I went ahead and bought a 7-ounce bag and I’m already halfway through that. I love its warm smokiness, the way that it adds heat to a dish without too much fire and the way that it complements everything from beans to squash to kale. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that it features predominantly in some of my favorite cuisines: Indian, Mexican and North African.

This recipe is a variation of a variation of a popular Egyptian dish, ful medames. Made with cooked mashed fava beans, parsley, garlic and lemon juice, the dish is often eaten for breakfast with pita bread and eggs. (Versions of ful are a staple across North Africa and the Middle East. As if I needed another reason to go there.) Eating Well used edamame rather than fava beans, and created a tomato-based stew. I threw in some chickpeas, a pepper and a touch of cinnamon, adding an extra North African kick to the dish.

Given how much I currently value low-maintenance meals, it’s no surprise that I loved this — half an hour’s worth of effort is rewarded with a warming, hearty stew that has the added bonus of being very good for you. My beloved cumin, along with the coriander, cayenne and cinnamon, create a deeply fragrant, spicy broth that is divine with warm pita. …

Roasted Cauliflower Salad

Switching jobs involves plenty of adjustments: new co-workers, new office, new tasks, new commute, new everything. It’s been a month since I started at HuffPost Live, and I’ve mostly gotten used to it (aided by the fact that I got to take pics of Tom Colicchio today. Keeping the “AHHHHH! Tom. effing. Colicchio.” thoughts to myself was really difficult.)

But the hardest change has been the schedule. I’d gotten really used to working 7:45-3:45, which gave me plenty of time to come home, work out, cook and eat by my obscenely early dinner time. But since my hours have been pushed back to the more normal 9-5-ish, I often find myself in a post-work post-spin class cooking frenzy, throwing things into a pot and running into the shower while praying that my apartment doesn’t burn down because I left the stove unattended.

(I could theoretically Seamless my way out of this problem, but I told myself I wouldn’t this year and anyways, some days I’m too famished to even wait for the delivery order. True story: one night I came home so hungry that I didn’t even stop to take my coat off before cooking. My roommate has gotten so used to my crazy that she didn’t even bat an eye.)

All of this is a long way of saying that I’ve become extremely interested in quick dinners. Obviously I’m not the only person in America with this problem — the Interwebs are rife with recipes labeled fast and/or easy, and grocery stores are stacked with products to make dinner more convenient.* Anything that requires minimal dishes and cooks itself is a major plus, and if it’s borderline healthy, jackpot.

This roasted cauliflower salad fits both of those criteria. It’s a riff on my favorite roasted cauliflower, bulked up with olives, feta and pine nuts for a Greek-inspired main-dish salad.It requires just one foil-lined baking sheet and one skillet for dry roasting, and the 30-minute baking time is perfect for taking off your coat/showering/unwinding. You could add whole-wheat penne to make it a more well-rounded meal, but as we know, that’s not really my thing. Savory and tangy and bright, this packs quite a flavor punch for something that takes no effort at all. Isn’t that what a weeknight dinner should be about? …

Sauteed Kale with Bacon Breadcrumbs

In a complete 180 from a few years ago, I’ve become one of those people who brings lunch to work every day. (No longer being funded by the ‘rents will do that to ya.) Because I’m not so into lunch meat, I usually make a big batch of something that can be eaten with a spoon/fork, reheats well and hopefully doesn’t make a complete mess of my desk. Stews are big go-to, as are salads, pasta and pretty much everything I’ve ever made on this site, since I almost always bring leftovers to the office.

Most of the time, if my lunches get any reaction at all, it’s positive — “oh, that looks good,” “that smells amazing,” etc. But when I brought this to work last week, the only reaction it got was an incredulous “are you eating a bowl of kale?”

Apparently, most people don’t consider sauteed kale topped with a bit of bacon, some breadcrumbs and some Pecorino to be a balanced meal. They would mostly be wrong, since there’s a vegetable + protein + dairy + whole grains. Okay, so maybe there’s barely any dairy and whole grains and bacon is less protein than fat, but proper nutrition is so overrated, amirite?

Needless to say, the next day I made some quinoa to go with the kale as kind of a pseudo-pilaf. Alternately, you could round out the meal by topping the kale with a fried egg, and yes you should definitely do that because it sounds de-lish. (Plus you get to eat bacon and eggs for dinner! Ron Swanson would approve.)

However you dress it up, this kale is good. Spicy and smoky and salty and nutty and crunchy and crisp, all in less than 20 minutes of work. It’s delicious enough to eat solo — I promise I won’t judge. …

Spaghetti Squash Bolognese

As a semi-responsible twenty-something, I try very hard to eat well (try being the operative word). Obviously there are days when dinner equals brownies, but most nights I follow some version of Michael Pollan’s mantra: “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants.”*

But we’re so bombarded with so many “eat this, not that” stories and studies that it can get very complicated very quickly. The simple directive “eat food,” which Pollan defines as anything your great-great grandmother would recognize. But in my brain, that quickly devolves into “What foods should I eat? Are there foods that are better than others? What do I eat to lose weight? Should I cut out dairy? What about wheat? Antioxidants! Oh god, do I need Omega-3’s?! askasfkasd;lfaskdf BROWNIES.”

(This is why what should be routine trips to the grocery store require hours of planning for me. If I didn’t have a list, I’d combust in the produce section.)

A few weeks ago, the Times ran a Well blog piece on the rise of eating gluten-free for more than just medical reasons. My experience thus far with gluten-free eating has been via friends who have diagnosed gluten allergies or sensitivities, but the article focused more on a growing number of people who are self-diagnosing gluten sensitivities and voluntary eschewing all wheat.

Their logic? To quote the article:

As with most nutrition controversies, most everyone agrees on the underlying facts. Wheat entered the human diet only about 10,000 years ago, with the advent of agriculture.

â€œFor the previous 250,000 years, man had evolved without having this very strange protein in his gut,â€ Dr. [Stefano] Guandalini [medical director at U. Chicagoâ€™s Celiac Disease Center] said. â€œAnd as a result, this is a really strange, different protein which the human intestine cannot fully digest. Many people did not adapt to these great environmental changes, so some adverse effects related to gluten ingestion developed around that time.â€

But as the piece explains, it is unclear how many people actually suffer from gluten sensitivities (testing can be inconclusive), and how many people are, like me, only interested in it as a means to shed pounds. The “carbs = bad” philosophy of the Atkins diet still lingers in the back of my head, and therefore, eschewing wheat seems like it would make sense as a method of losing those last 5 pounds. But then again, I see “Gluten-Free!!!!” stickers on every potato chip bag in Duane Reade, so hmmmmm …

All of this is a long way of saying I’m confused. I’m going to Boston this weekend, so hopefully Mili — who has been gluten-free for a while and is loving it — can help me out.

Also, I made naturally gluten-free spaghetti squash bolognese** last week, as a compromise between “need heavy food to deal with this awful cold weather” and “swim.suit.season.coming.” Spaghetti squash has long been a go-to for gluten-free eaters, as it mimics the look of spaghetti and is mostly tasteless, so it can be a good bed for pasta sauces.

I found it kind of meh — I’m not in love with the taste of pasta, so it didn’t bother me that this tastes a bit different, and really, we all know I’m in it for the sauce. And the cheese. But mostly the sauce. This is a pretty quick and easy recipe (even quicker if you use the microwave to cook the squash), which does mean I’ll be making it again. Hopefully by then I’ll have more answers on this whole gluten-free thing.

*It’s long, but Pollan wrote this essay a few years ago to spell out his edict more clearly. You could of course also read his books.

**I didn’t get into it (though the Well piece does), but gluten-free pasta, bread and similar naturally gluten-containing foods made with gluten-free flours are ex-pen-sive. Brands capitalizing on the popularity / consumer interest in going gluten-free? Probs. WAY out of my budget, especially when you consider how cheap the gluten-containing alternatives usually are. Spaghetti squash naturally doesn’t contain gluten (duh.) and was only $1 per pound, so I win. …

Olive Oil Brownies

As I’ve admitted before, I’m not really a brownie person. I prefer to eat copious amounts of chocolate in bar form, the darker the better. A sprinkle of sea salt or a smidge of peanut butter are the only accoutrements I need, and even those are usually unnecessary. So I don’t really have a game plan for those once-in-a-blue-moon days when I decide that I must have brownies for dinner.*

The lack of a go-to recipe lets me get creative when looking for my brownie fix. These intriguing but effort-heavy salted caramel brownies caught my eye, as did these spicy ones and these red velvet cheesecake ones.

But then I remembered an old Melissa Clark story from a few years ago, on coconut and olive oil brownies that were gooey and fudgy and almost pudding-like with their rich chocolatey-ness. (We’re busting out the SAT words today.) I ignored the coconut part completely and instead focused on the pairing of olive oil and chocolate — such a no-brainer that I’m a bit disappointed that I didn’t think of it first. (I’m only two years late to the party, NBD.)

Olive oil as dessert I’ve had a number of times, mostly in gelato form at Otto, and I like the subtle fruity savoriness that it brings to baked goods. It would cut the cloying sweetness that I find problematic with most brownies, and add a slightly peppery, tangy bite. Since Melissa’s coconut-free version called for a combination of butter and olive oil, I found an all-olive oil version at Sarah Cupcake, that (major bonus), was one-bowl and super easy.

Well. Minus the part where I discovered that the labels on my oven are completely off. What I thought was preheating my oven to 350F was actually preheating it to 600, and only by turning the knob to 575 would I get something approaching 350. Thank goodness for oven thermometers and an effective exhaust fan.

While my oven troubles produced a borderline cakey brownie**, if your oven works properly, you should be the proud owner of a batch of perfectly fudgy, intensely chocolatey goodness. The crunch of the coarse-salt topping belies a soft interior, rife with melted pockets of chocolate chunks. I’d say you should make them for Valentine’s Day, but then you’d presumably have to share … …

Chipotle Beef and Cheddar Grits

My first encounter with grits stems from one place and one place alone: this clip. (And also this one. Does that make it two places? To be fair, it is the same [excellent] movie*.) If you’re not into watching laugh-out-loud movie clips in horrifyingly low resolution, grits are coarsely ground dried corn or hominy, simmered in water and then topped with butter. They’re a staple down South, but have been largely ignored up North — often passed over for their Italian cousin polenta, at least in my experience. (Here’s a quick breakdown of the differences, if you’re curious.)

But anything cooked with copious amounts of cream and cheese is guaranteed to re-pique my interest, especially if that food originates in the Dirty. Obviously my quest for anything Southern led me straight to the Pioneer Woman, who takes such beautiful pictures of life on a farm that it makes me want to up and leave NYC immediately.

She tops her cheesy grits with a smoky, spicy chipotle beef stew that pairs beautifully with the sweet corn. The stew also had the double purpose of heating up my apartment for a few glorious hours, wafting the aromas of cumin and chili and garlic like a delicious scented candle.

Separately, the stew is a touch on the salty side and packs quite a spicy punch, and the grits are a bit too sweet to be eaten alone. But eaten together? This chipotle beef with cheddar grits equals pure cheesy, meaty, hearty bliss, a much-needed salve against the chill of winter.

*No seriously, My Cousin Vinny is high on my list of favorite movies. I have may or may not have considered dropping a friend because she hasn’t seen it yet … (kidding. sort of.) …

Beer-Braised Bratwurst

There are so many things I could say about this beer-braised bratwurst, but they’re so juvenile that I shouldn’t. For one, the name: bratwurst. Tee-hee. I’ve taken to dropping it here and there in sentences, just so I can hear it out loud. (I am actually a 5-year-old child. It’s fine really.)

I made this on a whim, after spying some bratwurst (HA. still funny.) on sale ahead of that little game on Sunday. Braising the sausage in beer gives it a slight tangy flavor, but it’s really just an excuse to drink beer while you cook. The onions are the real star of the show — they soften and caramelize and absorb the sausage’s saltiness and the beer’s zip and are just so heavenly and delicious that I want to eat them on top of everything.

While I didn’t go the traditional route of making these bratwurst into sandwiches, you could easily do so (this might be the way to go if you’re throwing a Super Bowl party — guests can just help themselves). Instead, I paired it with Balsamic-braised red cabbage, which was just as delicious as I remembered. Plus it was an opportunity to eat pork on pork on pork, which is never a bad thing.

Either way you serve it, please promise me you’ll make extra onions. I’d like a second helping of those and a second helping of this on Sunday. (And maybe some of this too, please?)

Note: If you’re looking for more Super Bowl ideas, I’ve got a list over here (including plenty of vegetarian options!) …

Chai-Spiced Pear Bread

Obviously, a major focus of my recent trip to India was tea. Darjeeling aside, much of the tea we drank day to day was masala chai, black tea with milk, (a lot of) sugar and a plethora of spices.

Cardamom and ginger are the most common, but cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, allspice and even anise or fennel can be used. The chai itself is almost dessert-like, a far cry from the grassy, earthy green tea that I usually drink.*

When at home in Maryland, we don’t usually make chai with all of the spices (or sugar. Seriously, Indian chai has so.much.sugar.), so last weekend, missing the spicy-sweet combo of cardamom and ginger, I baked them into pear bread. Pears are a nice pairing (see what I did there?) for these warm spices, as they’re sweet and faintly floral, similar to many of the teas that comprise masala chai.

As we know, I’m a little bit into quick breads. They’re so easy and so versatile: indulgent breakfast or brunch material? Check. Something to snack on with afternoon tea? Check. A mildly sweet treat for the end of the day? Done and done. This one is studded with pieces of soft pear and pecans and is the subtle, slightly delicate cousin of our favorite banana bread. It’s perfect for those weekends when your only plans are lying about and staying warm.

*Remember when I gave up coffee for a few ~~months~~ weeks? HA. Though I will say, I’m down to about a cup a day, which is nothing compared to the past … …

Lentil Soup with Bacon

When I wake up in the mornings, my first reaction is to turn off the alarm and the second is to check the weather. I like to know whether I can expect clouds or sun, and then consider what I’ll wear to work as I lay in bed. (Ninety-nine percent of the time I am inappropriately dressed for the weather, and that may or may not be because I plan my outfits in a half-awake daze at 5:07 a.m.)

This morning, I woke up to a temperature so ludicrous that I took a screenshot (to remind myself later that this was actually real life) and then went straight back to bed. What’s that you say Weather.com, “feels like -4F”? Fine, I’ll double-wrap myself in blankets and see you in April.

But because this is my first week at the new job, it’s a bit too early to call in sick for a few months, so therefore, I was forced to leave my cozy comforter and head out into the brutal, bone-chilling cold.

Unsurprisingly, I’ve been craving very specific meals this week: if it’s not warming and filling and stick-to-your-ribs, I’m not interested. I even made my first-ever grown-up kitchen purchase, a cast-iron Dutch oven so that I can braise all weekend. (Our heater has been on the fritz, so anything that keeps the oven on for a few hours is doubly appreciated right now.)

While this lentil soup doesn’t warm your room for hours on end, it does warm your belly.* Lentils are always comfort food for me, since dal was a staple of my childhood, and though the flavors of this soup are different, it offers the same feeling of nourishment that I get when I eat dal. It’s hearty and filling and all of the above, with sweetness from the carrots and a smoky saltiness from the bacon. It’s also mostly hands-off cooking, which gives me plenty of time to get back under the covers and watch my new favorite show.

*In a way, this is a blessing. I’ve been craving beef stew all week, but will have to wait until the weekend to make it because spending 2-3 hours waiting for dinner after a full day of work is just not going to happen.

Also, let’s ignore the fact that this may be the ugliest thing I’ve ever photographed. It tastes delicious, I promise! …

Darjeeling + an Epic Tea Tasting

This is Part II of a recap of my trip to India. Read Part I here.

As I mentioned yesterday, part of our trip to India included a week-long vacation in the foothills of the Himalayas. Traveling with a group of 25 family members (ages 8 months to 80 years), the trip was part family vacay and part tourist trip, so I didnâ€™t get to everything in the guidebook, but I did get some QT with my cousins.

We took the historic Darjeeling Mail train, which has been ferrying passengers from Kolkata to the Himalayas and back since 1878. Our first stop was Pelling, a small town nestled in the mountains. Itâ€™s known for its views of Mount Kangchenjunga, the third-highest peak in the world, and we were lucky enough to stay at a hotel where you could literally see the peaks from your bed. (Though that didnâ€™t stop a group of us from waking up at 5 a.m. to stand outside in the bitter cold and take pictures of the sun rising over the mountains.) …

Kolkata in Pictures (and Food!)

This is Part I of a recap of my trip to India. Read Part II here.

Three years ago, I returned from Kolkata inspired by the myriad sights, sounds, smells and especially tastes of the city. The sweet, spicy, tangy, earthy, and occasionally even bitter flavors I encountered there awakened an interest in food that had always lived in my brain (and my stomach), but had lain dormant in my college years, buried under a deluge of bad dorm food and takeout Chinese.

And so followed this blog, a place to document the adventures that ensued from my re-discovered curiosity for food. Almost three hundred posts later, I returned to Kolkata eagerly anticipating culinary fireworks (literally â€“ some of the food is spice-y).

Traditional Bengali cuisine is very fish-centric, taking full advantage of the rivers and waterways of the Ganges River delta. (Kolkata itself is on the Hoogly River, which flows out of the Ganges.) There are a few dozen different types of fish that are popular, and probably a million ways to prepare each type — none of which I can actually tell you about, since my fish-hating self ate none of them.* But common seasonings include cumin, turmeric, coriander, ginger, chili and mustard oil.

Unlike other Indian cuisines, Bengalis serve food in courses, rather than all at once. A typical meal might start with batter-fried vegetables (cauliflower or eggplant are most common) or deep-fried fish, served with ghee, rice, salt and a chili on the side. Next comes a vegetable dish â€“ likely some sort of sautÃ©ed greens plus dal, then a fish, then perhaps another fish or a meat dish. After that, maybe chutney, and then finally dessert. And a coronary. …

Penne with Brussels Sprouts and Bacon

After an epic 48 hours of traveling, vacation is officially over (tear, tear). While I have many stories to share from India, right now I’m more concerned about the fact that it’s time to get back to reality and well, I don’t wanna!

The beginning of the year is a time for me to take stock of the past 12 months and create new goals. I’m very into resolutions for the first two weeks of January, and then, well … there’s a reason why most of my new goals are actually repeats. Given that I ate with reckless abandon over the past three weeks, obvi eating clean is on there. I’d love to run more this year, and travel more and write more and read more and get back to doing crossword puzzles and also, stop drinking so much Diet Coke.

I’m still waffling on trying the vegetarian thing again, partially because I’d be missing out on the deliciousness of dishes like this. Let’s not talk about the fact that I actually made this in November, and instead focus on the pairing of bacon and brussels sprouts, explored here previously and brought to near perfection in Melissa Clark’s simple pasta dish. It’s easy, hearty and wholesome, a perfect recipe for busy winter weeknights. Which is perfect because my number one resolution for 2013 is to kick my Seamless addiction, which has swollen to an embarrassing 2-3 times per week rate.

What are your resolutions for 2013? And more importantly, what are your weeknight go-to’s? …

Cheers to 2013!

[Ed. Note: I’m in India and have already celebrated the new year, but I wanted to share a post from my biffle Milan. While I’m more than content to ring in 2013 with a cold bottle of cava, she’s a whiskey girl through and through, so I asked her to share her favorite winter cocktails, along with some of the history of this storied spirit. Enjoy, and happy new year!]

Whiskey, derived from the Gaelic “usquebaugh,” or the “water of life,” is my favorite beverage second only to water. Its versatility, colors, scents, and of course, tastes, all make any of its variants precious to me. There is, also, the matter of its incredible ability to warm me up from the inside out. So, now that it’s finally chilly in Cali, it seems only natural that I open up the bottles of whiskey, bourbon, and my truest love, scotch, to ring in the new year.

This year, I intend to celebrate the end of a fairly brutal 12 months in a hot tub with some hot drinks — we can start with the obligatory bubbly, revel in bourbon hot cocoa, and end with either a hot toddy or my treasure, Laphroaig.

First, let me break down whiskey: whiskey is the overarching term for the various types of liquors derived from mashed up grains such as barley, rye, wheat, corn, etc. Irish whiskey, bourbon and scotch are the subcategories of whiskey, and each type of liquor has its own unique history. …

Spicy Vegetarian Chili

Greetings from India! While Mexico and Argentina were both fabulous, this is the trip I’ve been waiting for all year. I got here Sunday morning, and since then I’ve introduced my cousins to the art of whipping my hair, feted my grandfather at his 80th birthday bash, bought a sari and embarked upon a 6-day trip to Darjeeling.

Everything has been as amazing as expected, but there’s one little thing I miss every now and then, mostly on Sundays. You see, the Redskins, after years of agonizing mediocrity (and sometimes outright awfulness) have finally righted the ship and may even make the (gasp!) playoffs. While I wouldn’t go nearly so far as to say “I’d rather be watching the game,” the thought of three consecutive missed game days have me craving football something fierce. Since I have yet to find a single bar that plays NFL games here, let’s talk about football food.

Chili is one of my favorite meals ever — it’s one-pot catch-all for whatever you have in your pantry/fridge, freezes beautifully and is stick-to-your-ribs hearty, which is much appreciated on cold nights. I’ve already got go-to recipes for both beef and turkey, but as I contemplate resolutions for 2013, I keep thinking back to a failed attempt at vegetarianism in July. While I don’t know if the new year will bring on a new attempt at eating vegetarian, I do know that with three different kinds of beans, bell peppers, carrots and tomatoes, I did not miss the meat at all in this chili. Its spicy kick warms you right up and paired with tortilla chips (and let’s be serious, a beer or two) it’s a great way to watch a game.

I’ll be home in time for Round 2 of the NFL playoffs. While I won’t say anything about who I’d like to see play (I’ve knocked on wood so many times while writing this post that I may or may not have bruised my knuckles), I know that I’ll be needing a big pot of this chili. Lucky for me, I planned ahead and froze some, a very small consolation prize on that sad day when I have to leave India. …

Pistachio Cranberry White Chocolate Bark

When making things for others, I have two major criteria. One, the recipe should be fool-proof. It’s highly likely that I’m a flustered mess while cooking. This problem always gets exponentially worse when I’m cooking for people and the pressure’s on — I’ve had to get out of the kitchen because I literally can’t handle the heat on occasion. (No seriously, I overheat.)

The second and possibly more important criteria is that the end result be pretty. We all eat with our eyes first, and I’m all about the oohs and ahhs that accompany a pretty piece of chocolate or a nice-looking cookie.*

This pistachio cranberry white chocolate bark knocks it out of the park on both accounts. Even with my added pain-in-the-buttness of toasting the pistachios before adding them to the bark, there’s only about 10 minutes of work involved, plus freezer time. Plus, the combo of red + green + white was too good to pass up, which may or may not be why I made another white chocolate-focused recipe.

We already know how I feel about the stuff, but to summarize briefly: chocolate is better brown. (Also, there’s that whole lack of cocoa solids thing … don’t get me started.)

But the white makes such a beautiful backdrop for the garnet berries and emerald nuts. And I will admit, the bark is not bad. The tartness of the cranberries cuts some of the white chocolate’s sweetness, and the pistachios add a meaty, nutty crunch. If you’re less averse to white chocolate, you may even think it’s delicious — my roommate had no complaints, and neither did my co-workers, for whom I made the bark in the first place.

But let’s be real, we all know I made this just to hear the assorted ooh look they’re so pretty!‘s, and you’ll be glad to know there were plenty of those as well.

*One major caveat here: not so into the weirdly perfect frosted sugar cookies that one finds at Starbucks around this time of year. Sure they may look pretty, but I’m convinced that anything that looks that neat and perfect probably tastes meh. (I prefer my sugar cookies with haphazardly scattered colored sprinkles, obvi.) …

Chocolate Peanut Butter Pretzel Truffles

Thank you to everyone who participated in the Holiday Auction! Your generosity is very much appreciated, and the grand total was $3,000! Especially given the sad events on Friday, it’s so nice to know that I’m surrounded by people as kind and caring as you all — I definitely don’t say this enough, but thank you.

I’ll be sending a batch of these chocolate peanut butter pretzel truffles to Tina in California, but since a lot of people mentioned they wanted some, I wanted to share the recipe. It’s also a nice homemade gift option and a nice something-something to bring to the last of your holiday parties. Making the truffles is so easy, and the payoff is … well, pretzels, peanut butter and chocolate are involved, so you can guess how good they are.

To be honest, I don’t really know how to end today’s post. While I have a lot of normal every-day things to think about (also, I leave for India in five days and haven’t even begun to pack), tonight all I can think about is how lucky I am that my biggest concerns involve luggage restrictions and laundry delivery.

Note: Last week, Desi, Helen and I made a podcast! We discuss a Hairpin article on American Girl’s allergy-free lunch, and I sound very weird but it’s an interesting discussion, so please check it out! …

Holiday Auction @ Life Tastes Like Food

I’m so excited to participate in the 2012 Holiday Auction, hosted by Stephanie over at Life Tastes Like Food. She and I met at the FoodBuzz Festival last year, and since then, I’ve been drooling over her delicious recipes, with gorgeous photos to boot! (IÂ made one myself this summer — SO good.)

Stephanie is hosting an auction of holiday treats this year to help a friend of hers who is currently undergoing treatment for leukemia. Fifty percent of proceeds from the auction will go to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and 50 percent will go to directlyÂ Lori Hammond, who is making something amazing of her own!

Bidding starts today, and among the many (many) awesome things up for grabs are these chocolate peanut butter pretzel truffles. They’re the perfect combination of salty and sweet, and seriously disappeared when I brought them to a Hanukkah party this weekend, so I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as we did.

Check out all of the auction items here, and if you can, please bid!

Butternut Squash Casserole

Given my penchant for doing typical-Christmas-in-New-York things and needing to run get-ready-for-India errands* and also maintain a semblance of a social life and oh hey, work and sometimes I like to run too, it’s safe to say I’ve been a leeeeetle busy the past week. But based on the hordes of people I’ve seen everywhere, I think everyone is a little crazed this time of year — presents to buy! Holiday parties to attend! Piles of cookies to bake! Homes to decorate! Advent calendars to eat! (No? Maybe that last one is just me.)

So it’s good to have a recipe or two to fall back upon, one that requires minimal effort and fills you up with meaty, cheesy goodness. This recipe comes courtesy of my main PICÂ Mili, and is similar to lasagna. However, instead of noodles, there are chunks of butternut squash, sweet and fork-tender and nicely balanced with the spicy tomato sauce.

I went the pre-cut cubed route (we all know how my cutting skills are), which makes this dish pretty easy, and you could go even easier by using jarred sauce instead of making your own. The oven does 80% of the work, so you’re free to deck the halls and fa-la-la-la-laaaa and all that.

(Also, I apologize for the lack of pictures — in my holiday craze I accidentally deleted all of the pictures of this butternut squash casserole. My B.)

*True story: my dad called on Friday to instruct me to buy a bottle of whiskey and pack it in my checked luggage (there was no explanation as to why). And when I asked my mom what exactly I was supposed to do in Heathrow for 5 hours by myself, she said “shop.” Is it any wonder that I am the way I am? …

Easy Almond Chocolate Chip Cookies

Today is National Cookie Day. I don’t need to tell you (again.) how strongly I support this holiday, but let’s just say I’m doing my part to celebrate.

Five things you need to know about these almond chocolate chip cookies:

1) They require only 5 ingredients (6 if you add a welcome sprinkle of sea salt).

2) They’re naturally gluten-free.

3) You can make them in two steps: mix and bake.

4) They’re supremely delicious, with a crumbly sandy texture and a balance of earthy and sweet.

5) If you start now, you could be eating warm cookie in a half hour.

There’s only a few hours of National Cookie Day left, so consider this your chance get involved. …

Carrot Ginger Soup

In addition to being cookie season, tis also the season for coughs, colds and the flu. I succumbed to disease over Thanksgiving weekend, and last Sunday, spent the ~~four~~ ~~five~~ six (!!!) hours of my epic journey back to the city sneezing, coughing and generally feeling like this. (Being forced to sit on a bus in traffic on the Jersey Turnpike while sick is actually a violation of the Geneva Convention.)

After a few too many coworkers gave me the “Jesus, you look awful” treatment on Monday, I ended up leaving work early to rest and make soup. The recipe calls it carrot ginger soup, but I think this is actually magic soup.

TheÂ mixture of onions, tomatoes, ginger and garlic is very similar to the flavor base of many of my mom’s curries, so maybe it was the reminder of home-cooked goodness, or maybe it was the fact that carrot and ginger are both good for you, or maybe I wasn’t actually as sick as I was making myself out to be, but I had this soup for dinner on Monday and lunch on Tuesday and by Tuesday evening, I felt a million times better. (I also spent much of Tuesday in bed reading GoT in a Nyquil-fueled haze, so maybe that had something to do with it.)

In any case, this soup is so delicious that even if you’re not sick, you should make it. I was actually very upset when I ran out of leftovers, but it’s so easy that I’ll definitely be making it again. I only wonder what kind of magic it can wield on the not-sick. …

Cranberry Pecan Bars

Oh mahhh gahhhhhhh, it’s finally holiday cookie time!!!!! (Just be glad I didn’t write a song about it this year.) I love everything about this time of year: bundling up in thick sweaters, decorating with twinkly lights and sparkly tinsel, cozying up with warm beverages and a little holiday music, and especially the omnipresent baked goods and chocolates and candy canes and … hey, I need a little “winter padding” to keep me warm, no?*

These cranberry pecan bars, though borne out of a need to create a second easy-to-carry Thanksgiving dessert, are the quintessential holiday cookie. They’re buttery and rich, equal parts tart and sweet, with the sweet crunch of toasted pecans on top and a hint of orange throughout. They even look festive, with their deep garnet color and blonde shortbread crust.

I didn’t chill my crust prior to baking, so my cookies were a bit too crumbly for proper shipping, but if you’re one of those people who can actually follow directions (whoopsies), these should be great for sending to loved ones. (You may want to pack them with some padding.) They require the teeniest bit of effort, but it’s well worth it — my family straight up devoured them, and I don’t even blame them.

If this isn’t quite your cup of tea, I’ve created a little recipe page of holiday treats here, and hope to be adding to it over the next month. Any excuse to eat more cookies, amirite?

*Actually, I don’t need any padding whatsoever, since I’ll be in India for the holidays this year. Yes, I’m super excited; no, I haven’t let the fact that I’ll be in saris stop me from gorging on any sweets in sight. …

Sweet Potato Tarts

My family is not so into the pumpkin pie. Years ago, I made a “back of the Libby’s can” version with a premade crust with still-frozen Cool Whip on the the side, and their memories are still tarnished by the taste of that weirdly sweet pie.

I very much want to change their minds, but a chance encounter with a Pumpkin Spice Latte a few weeks ago has sworn me off of the gourd for a bit. (It tasted exactly like this and not like the goodness I remember.) So I half-heartedly found a pumpkin pie recipe to make for Thanksgiving dinner, and switched my plans the instant my dad, while eating mashed sweet potatoes, suggested a sweet potato dessert instead.

His idea, to saute slices of sweet potato in butter and top with chopped pecans, sounded interesting but not so feasible for our usual large Thanksgiving gathering. I wanted individual servings that could be eaten by hand, if need be, so I added a pastry crust base to the slices, and “marinated” them in maple syrup so that they would be sticky.

A wee bit of cinnamon and some nutmeg later, we were in business. Rather than sauteeing each slice in butter before baking it (the Redskins game was almost on, and I can’t be at the stove when there’s football to watch!), I added browned butter to the marinade, to lend a nutty undertone to the tart. They were so inherently Thanksgiving — the warm spices, the slight sweetness, the earthy sweet potato, the flaky pastry — that when topped with a dollop of maple whipped cream, no one missed pumpkin at all.

The process is a bit time consuming: slicing the potatoes, making the pastry dough, rolling out the pastry dough, baking the tarts, making the whipped cream. But if you plan ahead, it’s not so bad — make the pastry dough beforehand (it’s good for up to a month in the freezer), and slice the potatoes up to 8 hours before cooking. The whipped cream can be made in advance as well. And, depending upon your counter space, it helps to have a second set of hands rolling and cutting the dough, perfect for the eager-to-help guests in the house.

It’s a little late to make these for this year’s Thanksgiving, but they’re so delicious that you may want to make them a few times before next year … you know, just to test the recipe. This year, among other things, I’m thankful that my parents instilled a deep love of food and cooking in my sister and I, and are always willing to try new things in the kitchen. What are you thankful for? …

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