bites out of life

Fromage Fort

Guys, I think I may have found the perfect recipe. It’s stupid easy, better when you make it ahead of time, infinitely adaptable, and oh, did I mention, it involves 2 pounds of cheese??

Fromage fort, which means “strong cheese,” is a genius French way to use up all the little nubs of cheese that are hanging out in your fridge at any given time — you know, that last little bit of cheddar leftover from your broccoli cheddar soup adventures, the gruyere nub you didn’t use in that tomato tart you made last week, the chunk of brie that remained after your little wine down over the weekend. Combine that with the last glass of white wine nobody drank and a clove of garlic, and you have a creamy, dreamy spread that is delicious on EVERYTHING.

The best part of all of this is how flexible it is. You can use whatever cheese you like or have around. (I’d use caution with anything that’s super strong, including blue cheese, since it can overpower everything else. Unless that’s what you’re looking for, in which case, carry on.)

I was making this for a party and in a rare moment of dietary austerity, didn’t have any cheese in the fridge. So I went HAM at the cheese counter and bought a little bit of a lot of cheeses: a log of goat cheese, some triple-crÃ¨me brie, a bit of Cantal, a fruity, tangy cheese from France, some Fontina d’Aosta, a grassy, earthy Italian semi-firm cheese, Campo de Montalban, a Manchego-like cheese from Spain (but it’s made with sheep, goat and cow’s milk, rather than just sheep’s milk), a bit of ButterkÃ¤se, a buttery (duh) Swiss cheese, and a good amount of one of my favorite farmstead cheddars.

I paired that with some leftover Vermentino, though I think a buttery Chardonnay would be excellent here. I added a massive garlic clove, some black pepper (my cheeses were salty enough that I didn’t need extra salt, but you might need some), and a bit of chopped chives. You may want to add some paprika or cayenne, a bit of parsley or other herbs, or a pat of butter if your cheeses are mostly firm (this smoothes out the texture a bit).

Letting the fromage fort sit for a few hours thickens it a bit and lets the flavors meld a bit, and you can safely “age” your fromage fort for up to a week. So it’s perfect for parties, since you can make it well ahead of time. It’s also perfect for the day after parties, when you’re hungover and all you want to do is sit on the couch and eat junk food. This is basically very fancy junk food. I told you it was the perfect recipe.

P.S. Just realized that fromage fort is the fancy French version of beer cheese, in case you want to class up your next football-watching situation … …

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Hi! Remember me? I used to cook things and write about them, but now I mostly sit on the couch recovering from various illnesses (sinusitis and bronchitis with a healthy dose of “stomach bug” thrown in, if you’re curious) and help make videos that attempt to capture the insanity (absurdity?) that is this world.

Until Sunday, I hadn’t cooked something at home in over a month. Until Sunday, I had subsisted for over a week on bone broth, diner mashed potatoes and a rice slurry that my sister made for me after taking pity on my poor sorry sick self. Until Sunday, I had forgotten how much fun it was to try something new in the kitchen, how relaxing it was to shut your mind off for a few minutes and just chop vegetables, how soothing it was to follow someone else’s lead for an hour and trust that everything would turn out okay.

Broccoli cheddar soup was exactly the comfort food I wanted, but the mere act of cooking was even more comforting — it felt familiar and simple and satisfying, a return to normalcy after two weeks of doctor’s offices and pharmacies and endless SVU marathons (not that I’m complaining on that front). I’m hoping that, now that I’m mostly recovered, I’ll be spending a lot more time in the kitchen this fall.

And about the soup: well, anything that features over a pound of broccoli and a half-pound of cheddar was bound to be delicious. This is cheesy, creamy comfort in a bowl, and features enough broccoli to feel somewhat virtuous — or at least not completely terrible. It’s the kind of meal I know I’ll want to eat (and make!) all winter long. …

Apple Cider Mimosas

I know that the last time we talked, I was all about extending summer well into September. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel that way, and don’t you dare tell me I should stop eating stone fruit like it’s my job.

But I am nothing if not a realist so I will admit: the tomatoes at the market don’t look as good as they used to. The peaches have started to disappear, the apples are starting to come out and there’s a brisk chill in the mornings that I haven’t felt in months.

Sundays especially feel extra fall-like to me, what with football and meal prep plans that are rapidly become very soup–forward. I’m a week away from dusting off the Dutch oven and bringing the slow-cooker back into rotation, which is the ultimate sign that cold weather is on its way.

In order to ease myself into this ending of summer, I did what I do best: drink. Mimosas are a year-round brunch staple, but I happened upon this apple cider version and immediately fell in love. Apple cider is a September must, and it’s surprisingly good with champagne (or in my case, a dry cava). That’s all you really need, but the cinnamon-sugar rim is a nice bonus. These mimosas are tart-sweet, fizzy, frothy fun and they’re perfect for Sunday brunching, maybe with a side of apple cake, definitely while watching football.

*I am definitely not a realist, as anyone who’s ever met me will attest to. …

Tomato Tart with Caramelized Onions

Guys, people keep trying to shortchange my summer. Everyone’s looking ahead to fall, what with its new restaurants and new TV and its Pumpkin Spice everything. It’s upsetting on many levels (why are people so obsessed with a drink that basically tastes like a melted candle??), but mostly because I’m not ready to give up my warm weather adventures and rooftop shenanigans and #rosÃ©allday lifestyle.

I’m also not ready to abandon my summer produce. Berries and cherries and yes, even tomatoes, oh my! I’ve still got a few weeks left with these beauties, and I refuse to relinquish them.

It’s a shame that everyone’s already looking towards fall this time of year, because late summer cooking is kind of the best. I’m usually a bit tired of summer salads (delicious though they might be) by now, which is great because it’s no longer oppressively hot, so you can actually turn on the stove — or even *gasp* the oven! — without turning your apartment into a furnace. There’s a lot more creativity in cooking, and some of my favorite dishes on this blog were cooked up this time of year.

Enter this tomato tart. It grew out of two weird coincidences that I probably shouldn’t tell anyone but instead, will tell all of the Internet: 1) I walk through Union Square’s greenmarket every weekday that it happens, and while most of the time I can ignore everything, sometimes I get impossibly swayed by things like cute and colorful tomatoes and then show up to work with boxes of tomatoes for no reason; and 2) I sometimes Insta-stalk myself.

While reliving my personal history via photos, I stumbled upon a photo of my dinner at Verjus while in Paris last month (I know, I hate me too) and remembered the amazing cherry tomato galette appetizer. Sweet-tart tomatoes on a bed of even sweeter, almost jammy caramelized onions, all encased in an impossibly flaky crust — it was delicious, and probably my favorite part of the meal.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to recreate — the Internet is full of tomato tart recipes, and by cobbling together one from the Pioneer Woman with some puff pastry tips from Smitten Kitchen, I was able to create something so delicious that I ate an unconscionable amount of it in one sitting.

You might want to share, like say at a Labor Day weekend get-together, and I would not blame you, because this tart is definitely a crowd-pleaser. There are a fair amount of steps, but nothing you couldn’t do with a glass of rosÃ© in hand. It’s extra perfect al fresco, with a lightly dressed pile of greens and a gorgeous summer sunset, and don’t you dare try to talk to me about apples yet. …

A Perfect Smoothie Template

I’m going to be really honest with you all today: the past few months have been incredibly busy and difficult. Work has been insane, the perils of working at a news organization in a world that seems more and more outrageous by the day. In order to instill some order and familiarity amid the chaos, I’ve started to cling to routines.

I have my afternoon mint tea routine, a reminder to get away from my desk for a few minutes and take a quick walk through the office. I have my evening walk routine, getting off at the further subway stop so I can take 15 minutes to decompress from my day. And most importantly, I have my morning routine, which has become crucial in setting the tone for the rest of my day.

Everyone has different needs in the morning, so I’m certainly not going to tell you how to set your day up for success. I know what works for me: the sometimes morning gym class, followed by a shower (must), coffee (must) and Morning Joe (I know, I know). I have my commute timed down to the minute and work backwards from there: 20 minutes to get dressed + 20 minutes to shower + 20 minutes to relax and drink my coffee = exactly what I need to start my day.

A key part of that routine is breakfast, and between April and October, that usually means a smoothie of some sort. I love smoothies because they’re a great way to pack in a ton of nutrients, are easy to transport (I do most of my eating once I get to work, because I prefer to eat a bit later in the morning) and can usually make themselves while you do other things.

While many people follow recipes for smoothies (as did I in the past), in my morning rush, I’ve realized that you can make a perfect smoothie every time by simply following an easy template: one handful of fresh spinach + one cup of liquid (I usually use unsweetened almond milk or coconut water, but regular milk or regular water work too) + a half a frozen banana + one cup of frozen fruit (I cycle between a mix of berries and pineapple/mango) + 1 tablespoon of almond butter or peanut butter (or even a quarter of an avocado, which is extra delicious with the pineapple/mango combo).

Sometimes I’ll add a scoop of protein powder or a teaspoon of chia or flax seeds, sometimes I’ll add cacao powder (amazing with frozen raspberries), sometimes I’ll add frozen acai — there are a million permutations based on what you like and what you have lying around. I throw things into the blender after I pour myself a cup of coffee, and 5 minutes later, I have a healthy, delicious breakfast that I can pack into my lunch bag and enjoy when I’m at my desk.

What do you like to put in your smoothies?

Prosciutto and Melon Salad

For the second half of my European tour, I went back to one of my favorite places: Tuscany. I spent the weekend in San Quirico d’Orcia, a tiny medieval town nestled in the Val d’Orcia hills, close to both the Montepulciano and Montalcino wine regions and to Pienza, the birthplace of Pecorino cheese. Though I didn’t get to do too much exploring (aside from a quick run through the countryside — those hills are no joke … ), because we were there for a wedding, what little we did see was charming and magical and I can’t wait to come back.

From there, we spent 48 hours in Florence, which is exactly as perfect as I remember. I found a new favorite gelato place, finally made it to the Boboli Gardens (third time’s the charm!) and ate my weight in bistecca alla Fiorentina, the thick-cut perfectly rare t-bone steaks that Florence is known for.

In both places, our go-to appetizer was prosciutto e melone, a common Tuscan appetizer that is simply just prosciutto and melon, usually cantaloupe. There’s no reason that something so simple should be so ridiculously good, but the sweetness of the melon combined with the salty meat is addictively delicious. It was an instant must-“make” when we got back, and luckily, it’s peak melon season, so we’ve continued our aperitivo habit at home (occasionally with an Aperol spritz!).

Though most places in Italy serve the prosciutto and melon with nothing else, a few weeks ago, I was enjoying my new favorite snack while trying to clear out the fridge and saw that I had some almost-about-to-wilt spinach and some cherry tomatoes. I had no other salad fixings, but I had prosciutto and I had cantaloupe and apparently, that’s all one needs for a super easy, super tasty summer dinner. The whole thing comes together in an instant, disappears just as quickly and somehow feels both incredibly indulgent and light and refreshing. If I can’t go back to Italy this summer, at least I (and you) have this! …

Homemade Merguez with Tomato-Olive Salad

My my, is time flying by! It’s already August, which means fall is basically around the corner, and before you know it, it’s the start of Q4 and then *BAM* Happy 2018! (Does anyone else fast-forward through time like a crazy person? Being “present” is not really my forte.)

I’ve been all over the place so far this summer, but I currently have two whole, straight, uninterrupted weeks of being at home ahead of me and it feels like heaven. I have a million plans for this NYC time, but I’ll be honest — I’ll probably spend most of it catching up on TV (specifically The Keepers, Master of None and Game of Thrones of course) and hanging out in the kitchen. I’ve missed being home: the ritual of prepping dinner, ~~possibly~~ usually pouring myself a glass of wine, sitting down to eat. It’s soothing, especially after the insanely busy stressful days that have become the norm for anyone who works in news.

I especially can’t wait to make more of the kind of fresh, bright dinners that I crave this time of year. Produce is popping right now — juicy peaches and giant zucchinis and gorgeous gem-like berries and of course, tomatoes everywhere.

Growing up, I mostly hated tomatoes. They were often mushy and mealy and flavorless, transported God knows when from who knows where. Then I learned about eating seasonally, and tasted a tomato in late summer. It was firm and juicy and sweet, words I didn’t know could even be associated with tomatoes. In short, it was life-changing and I’ve been sneaking tomatoes into everything summer ever since.

In fact, this entire dinner was borne out of a desire to make a really easy salad with tomatoes, olives, mint and lemon juice, and then realizing that I probably need some sort of something to go with that. My internet perusals led me to Smitten Kitchen, as they so often do, and from there, I stumbled onto her recipe for homemade merguez.

Merguez is a kind of sausage eaten across northern Africa and the Middle East, usually made with ground beef or lamb and deeply spiced with harissa, cumin, coriander and paprika. It is fragrant and fiery, perfect with wedges of pita and this snappy tomato-olive salad. Plus the sausage takes about 15 minutes to prepare, which makes it ideal for summer nights. Because while I’d like to spend more time in the kitchen, I definitely don’t plan on slaving away at the stove when there’s so much outdoor time still to be had … …

5 Bites In Paris

Paris is a place where it’s easy to eat well. Literally everywhere you turn, there’s a cafe or a restaurant with a solid house wine and a decent steak frites. We didn’t have a single bad meal in the 5 days we were there. But some meals were definitely better than others, and I enjoyed eating and exploring through some new neighborhoods on this trip to the City of Lights.

Les Affranchis (9th Arr., Metro: Saint-Georges or Pigalle)
This restaurant is located in a trendy little section of the 9th arrondissement known as SoPi* (south of Pigalle). There were less than 10 tables and it evoked the kind of upscale neighborhood restaurant you might find in Brooklyn (cough*The Olmstead*cough) — we were clearly surrounded by well-heeled regulars on the random Tuesday we ate there. The restaurant offers a three-course menu for 45 euro, filled with inventive takes on classic dishes. My appetizer was a version of carbonara, featuring a soft poached egg in a pecorino cream sauce surrounded by lardons and sweet pearl onions. It was delicious, but my entree was even better: tender braised pork with a cracklingly crisp skin, served with sautÃ©ed mushrooms and surprisingly, diced mangos, which cut the richness of the meat nicely.

The stereotype of the French waiter is inattentive and snooty, but that was definitely not the case at Les Affranchis. Everyone was super helpful, willing to explain the menu and answer any questions, and extremely attuned to our needs. SoPi is a fun neighborhood to grab dinner and drinks, so if you’re in the ‘hood and want to eat very well, I definitely encourage you to stop in!

Bang (10th Arr., Metro: Gare de l’Est or Jacques Bonsergent)
Though this was my third time vacationing in Paris, it was bae’s first time properly visiting the city. So, I had initially planned a lot of sight-seeing for him, which meant spending a lot of time with tourists. By Day 3, he wanted to see where the real Parisians hang. After some internet research (isn’t that what all the cool kids do?), he found Canal St. Martin in the 10th Arrondissement, where Paris hipsters (known as bobos, or bohemian bourgeoisie) sit outside and drink on the banks of the canal. (You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you can’t take the Brooklyn out of the boy … )

Bang! is a tiny restaurant on the banks of the canal, known for its grilled meats. It was packed with the kind of casually glamorous Parisians you might see on a fashion blog, and offered two dining options: the three-course steak frites menu route, or a grill-your-own adventure, where the waiter gives you a small grill and a few different cuts of meat and you cook your own (similar to Korean BBQ). Though most of the restaurant went with the mixed grill, I wanted a menu, mostly to try the foie gras and bone marrow appetizers. While the bone marrow was a bit too rich for the sweltering weather, the foie was surprisingly light, creamy without being heavy or unctuous. It was probably the best version of foie we had on our trip, and we ate an alarming amount of goose liver.

If you’re in search of party time after dinner, I highly recommend stopping by Le Comptoir General for a drink and a dance. It’s a short walk from Bang! and has a cool jungle vibe — think bright colors, lots of lush greenery, Caribbean music and twinkle lights. Bae and I walked in, did a quick loop of the premises and realized that the bar was much more of a young man’s game, but if you’re less lame than we are, it looked really fun!

Verjus (1st Arr., Metro: Pyramides, Palais Royal, Bourse or Quatre-Septembre)
Verjus was the one place I had looked up and made a reservation for before leaving NYC. Run by former Brooklynites, it is one of a few restaurants bringing a farm-to-table sensibility to Paris, and has a very inventive and fairly affordable tasting menu (68 euro, which is pretty great for the quality and care that goes into each dish).

The meal began with four starters: a cherry tomato and caramelized onion galette that I still dream of (I will be attempting this at some point this summer), burrata with a melon compote that bae was obsessed with, radishes with spiced yogurt and what can be best described as a tangy chive dust, and cucumbers with an almond cream. Then came a house-baked sourdough with homemade salted butter, then a carrot salad with puffed freekah, then a salad with lobster and currants.

The entree was squab, which was controversial — I thought it was interesting, if a bit too gamey, and bae was bewildered that I made him spend $80 on pigeon. Dessert was a mille-feuille with apricot puree, quinoa flour layers instead of puff pastry and ricotta instead of pastry cream. Everything was fresh and intriguing and delicious, the kind of dining experience that I love having in New York. It was nice to see the Parisian version of it, and it was 100% worth it just for the look on bae’s face when he saw that we were eating pigeon for dinner.

Le Comptoir de Relais (6th Arr., Metro: Odeon)
Le Comptoir was recommended to me by a friend who knows his food, and therefore I did no research prior to stopping by here. In fact, the only reason we came by was because we were desperate for lunch after a long morning sight-seeing in the 5th and 6th arrondissements, and needed to refuel ASAP. Because we were there a bit off-hours, we were able to get a table fairly quickly, and the restaurant seemed so unassuming at first that I didn’t bother to take pictures of the food.

HOWEVER. The milk-braised pork with lentils was out of this world. Meltingly soft, flavorful, not overwhelmingly rich — it was one of the best things I ate on the trip. Then I went home and did some Googling: the restaurant has been a favorite of locals for a long time, and it’s still fairly hard to get a dinner reservation. If you can get one, dinner is a set prix fixe menu for 60 euro, which is pretty great for the quality of the food, though our impromptu lunch was pretty amazing too. You’ll likely be in the 6th regardless, so it’s worth stopping by to see if you can grab a table.

Pierre HermÃ© (6th Arr., Metro: Saint-Sulpice)
Look, I know this is totally cheating and there’s very little value in putting a world-renowned patisserie on this list and calling it a “must-try.” Of course you should try Pierre HermÃ© at some point on your Paris trip, and there are locations scattered all around the city (and globe).

However, Paris is a city of simple pleasures, and there are few greater than visiting the Pierre HermÃ© in the 6th Arrondissement, taking one of their impossibly flaky Ispahan croissants (with both a raspberry-lychee and rose-almond filling, then topped with candied rose petals) to go, and eating it in the small square outside of the Eglise Saint-Sulpice (you could also walk a bit further to the Jardin du Luxembourg). People-watching in a beautiful place with a perfect croissant = heaven.

Aperol Spritz

Greetings from Europe! I’m headed on a little summer vacation to Paris, Tuscany and Florence — a much-needed respite from the madness of the past few weeks in two of my favorite places in the world. I’ve been to both places, so I’ll be doing less sightseeing and more experiencing — think long, leisurely meals, people-watching in piazzas, and a fair amount of aperitifs in the afternoon.

Aperitifs are a hallmark of Italy and France (no coincidence that that’s where I’m headed …) and originated as a light drink to prepare the stomach for the large dinner to come after. They’re usually fairly dry and not terribly alcoholic, which means they’re perfect for summer drinking. In France, kir, pastis or even champagne are popular aperitifs, depending on the region you’re in. In Italy, a dry white wine, vermouth or Aperol spritzes are all the rage.

Aperol has been around since the early 20th century, but didn’t become popular until after World War II. It’s similar to Campari (the essential component of a perfect negroni), but less bitter and less alcoholic (11% alcohol by volume compared to 25-ish% ABV), and has a pleasant orange flavor. Some genius decided to start serving it with prosecco and soda in the 1950s, and we all really owe that human because there is something about a fizzy, fruity, slightly bitter cocktail that just satisfies all summer drinking needs.

The best part is, there’s no fancy cocktail-mixing or complicated recipes involved. It’s simply 3 parts prosecco, 2 parts Aperol and a splash of club soda on ice. I like to swish my orange slice in the glass so that everything gets a good mix, and boom, your drink is ready.

It’s the perfect cocktail for beach parties or cookouts, since everyone can kind of help themselves — just leave the prosecco in an ice bucket with the club soda and Aperol, a shot glass and slices of orange. Serve it at your Fourth of July party (or any other party you have this summer) or make one for yourself, perhaps as a very delicious consolation prize if you are not living la dolce vita right now. …

Pesce alla Acqua Pazza (Fish in Crazy Water)

I’ve had a very love-hate relationship with fish. When I was 3 or 4, I’d eat an entire fish in one sitting, an infinitely cuter (but no less crazy) version of this. One bad experience turned me off of fish for decades (I am nothing if not stubborn), and even now, as I’ve slowly but surely reintroduced fish into my diet, aside from the occasional beachside catch of the day, I mostly lean towards fillets.

The problem is that fillets can be hard to cook properly. There’s a small window in which fish goes from flaky and tender to dry dry dry, and it’s an especially tight one on firm white fish like cod or haddock, since it has less fat than salmon or tuna. One good way to get around this window is by frying the fish, but that’s not exactly #cleaneating. (Also, trying to get the smell of fried fish out of my apartment is not something I would like to spend my glorious summer evenings doing.)

So, I did as the Italians do, and poached my fish in acqua pazza. I’ve already mentioned how easy and forgiving poaching is, but while white wine and herbs are great for salmon, which already has its own distinct flavor, firm white fish is often an empty canvas. Acqua pazza, which means crazy water in Italian, takes that empty canvas and envelops it in a broth of tomatoes, garlic and olive oil that is so delicious I wanted to bathe in it myself.

My first experience with fish in acqua pazza was in Tulum of all places, and while it was delicious (fresh fish makes everything better), I knew I could do better. It took me a while, but I, aided by the queen Marcella Hazan, finally delivered, and man was it worth the wait.

To that base of tomatoes, garlic and olive oil, I added red pepper flakes, a bit of dried oregano and basil, olives and capers. Those ingredients simmer for close to an hour, melding together into a broth that would be delicious for shrimp, mussels or even chicken. It’s perfect for a few fish fillets, imparting a ton of flavor while keeping the fish tender and flaky. If all fish tasted this good, I’d eat it every day! …

Oven BBQ Spare Ribs, Revisited

Though technically summer only officially started today, I’ve been in peak summer mode for weeks — all cups of ice cream and drinks al fresco and #rosÃ©allday. But summer is synonymous with backyard grilling, and aside from one lovely weekend at home, I’ve had very little of that.

Obviously, grilling in the heart of New York City is a tricky task. Bae has a rooftop and a grill, but let’s just say that trekking out to Brooklyn to fire it up happens … ~~never~~ infrequently. Luckily, I learned long ago that you can make delicious barbecue right in your own oven, including spare ribs so tender that they melt off the bone at the barest hint of a knife.

Six(!!) years ago, I used an old New York Times recipe from Harold McGee that was kind of perfect. You slather an immensely flavorful smoky-spicy-sweet rub on some ribs, wrap them in foil and stick them in the oven. Hours later, you get angels singing from the heavens and melt-in-your-mouth tender ribs.

But in revisiting the recipe, I realized there were two problems: one, six hours oven time + prep is a long time to ask someone to set aside on a summer afternoon, and two, cooking meat for that long at 175F is almost guaranteed to go wrong in my crappy old NYC oven. (My oven is at its least reliable, temperature-wise, on the lower heats).

Thankfully, as she always does, Smitten Kitchen had my back. She too discovered Harold McGee’s ribs long ago, but when she revisited, she included updated baking times for the ribs, for those of us who want to go not as slow and not as low. I ended up cooking them for four hours at 250F. Sure, you lose a little something-something in increasing the heat and decreasing the cook time, but the meat was still insanely delicious and thoroughly tender. And I had two whole extra hours with which to enjoy more summering. I’d like to say I did something exciting with it, but you and I both know I just ate endless amounts of watermelon while watching this on repeat. …

Cauliflower Fried “Rice”

I’m always terribly late to food trends. I didn’t discover kale chips until 2012 or chia seeds until 2014. Despite owning a zoodler for more than a year, until earlier today I had yet to actually make zucchini noodles, and I am woefully late to the wonder that is cauliflower “rice.”

Cauliflower rice is basically cauliflower rubble, aka the little bits that are formed when you run a cauliflower through a food processor (or, since I don’t own one, chop and chop and chop and chop). (Ok fine, truth time: I bought a bag of pre-“riced” cauliflower for an absurd price and that plus avocado toast is why I’ll never own a home. Or something like that.)

Once you have your cauliflower pieces, the possibilities are endless. Some people roast it. Others create a Mexican-style pilaf. I followed Skinny Taste‘s lead and made a quick fried rice, sauteeing the cauliflower in a flavorful blend of sesame oil, garlic, ginger, scallions and soy sauce. The cauliflower gets tender but stays toothsome, and has a fluffy texture that’s actually kind of similar to couscous. I could see myself making this often, since it’s an easy side dish for teriyaki salmon or a quick stir-fry.

Now that I’m officially on the cauliflower rice bandwagon, what food trend should I try next? ( What was popular back in 2015?) Any recommendations? …

Sheet-Pan Pork Chops With Balsamic Onions

It’s that time of year again. You know it: it’s sunny and warm and perfect outside, and every second spent indoors is a waste of time. That time of year where I try (and mostly fail, but sometimes succeed!) to convince my coworkers to take walking meetings, when I ditch the gym for outdoor runs, and when dinner involves less than 30 minutes worth of cooking.

This is a recipe for this time. It takes a wee bit more time than 30 minutes, but it more than makes up for it in the form of roasted balsamic red onions, which are sweet and tangy and stupid good. They’d be tasty on tacos or in sandwiches, but they’re especially delicious here, paired with thick balsamic-marinated pork chops and a crunchy fresh spinach salad.

It is the kind of dinner that happens to be wholesome and healthy without trying, and is so flavorful that you’ll barely even notice you’re having *cue eyeroll* a salad for dinner. Plus, cleanup involves washing one dish (your salad bowl) and throwing the tin foil in the garbage, which means it’s perfect for maximizing outdoor time. I’d say more, but it’s a gorgeous evening and … #sorrynotsorry. …

Roast Chicken with Spanish-Style Mushrooms

My GOODNESS I’ve been away for a while. May was a whirlwind month, which culminated in one of the most exciting days of my life: my sister’s wedding. So much love and laughter this weekend that I’m still in a total state of euphoria, dampened slightly by the fact that it’s all over and I have to go back to the real world.

You know what makes the real world better? An insanely delicious dinner that takes 40 minutes to make. My wedding meal was a chicken-and-mushroom dish that I was too busy dancing to eat. (It looked good at least!) It was a little upsetting since I love mushrooms, so I knew immediately what I wanted to cook when I got back from my weekend of fun. (I’ve been in a weird cooking funk recently, no doubt brought on by the fact that I’ve been incredibly busy and have had very little time to shop or cook, so anytime I know exactly what I want to make, I get really excited.)

While most chicken-and-mushroom dishes involve some sort of cream sauce, I wanted something a bit lighter. I immediately thought of the tapas place around the corner from my apartment that serves the most amazing sauteed mushrooms in a spicy, lemony, garlicky sauce. I’ve been dying to make that at home for a while, and what better bed for those mushrooms than crisp-skinned perfect roast chicken. Since this was a weeknight, I browned and roasted whole chicken legs, meaning that dinner was served less than 40 minutes from when I started.

Since bae is now paleo, I served the roast chicken and mushrooms on a bed of quick-sauteed kale, and it was everything I wanted dinner to be: bright, fresh, flavorful. Sometimes, after an amazing weekend, you just need something delicious and comforting, and trust me — this is definitely a winner, winner chicken dinner situation. …

Spicy Cod Tostadas with Mango Salsa

Fact: I am still obsessed with going somewhere tropical. Fact: my wanderlust has led to an explosion of colorful, vegetable-filled dinners that pack tons of spicy, smoky flavor. Fact: no one is complaining.

These cod tostadas were borne out of a sale on both mangos and cod at the grocery store, and a chance discovery of corn tortillas in the fridge. (Does anyone else stumble upon random things in the fridge and have zero recollection of buying them? Should I be worried?) While the easy solution was fish tacos, I’ve already got a favorite version of those, and why mess with a classic?

So I did a bit of Googling and found tostadas. I’ve never actually made tostadas, because when going down the path of crispy, crunchy tortillas I inevitably end up making nachos. But fish nachos sound less than ideal, so here was the perfect opportunity for me to finally go the tostada route. (I did all of this thinking while at the grocery store, wandering the aisles and doubling back 15 times while the store people looked at my like I’m crazy. This is probably how I end up with all sorts of random things in my fridge.)

While tostadas are traditionally fried corn tortillas, I baked them with a drizzle of oil and a sprinkle of sea salt and ended up with crisp, crunchy perfection. The cod sits in a quick marinade of lime, cilantro, cumin, garlic powder and paprika, then gets sauteed until flaky. On top is a quick mango salsa, built off of my favorite mango-black bean salad and so fresh and flavor-packed that I’ve been eating it with a spoon. You know a salsa’s good when even I am eating it sans chips, given that I spend my days finding excuses to fill my body with tortilla chips.

The tender fish is a nice contrast to the crunchy tostada, and everything is fresh and bright and spicy and so, so good. Sure, it’s no beachside fish roast, but it’s an extremely delicious substitute. …

Tropical Acai Bowl

Guys, I’ve been craving vacay like MAD. This time last year, I’d already been to Mexico and had plans in the works to go to Puerto Rico. This year, I’ve got nothing. (I know I know, world’s saddest song, smallest violin, etc.) But it’s been a really busy few months, and let me have my whine.

Alas, I have no beach jaunts on the horizon, so I’ve had to travel there via my kitchen instead. Lots of blackened tilapia, fresh crunchy vegetables, and when I go out, all I want are tacos and tequila. My tropical cravings have even extended to breakfast, where they’ve taken hold in the form of an acai bowl.

While acai is supposedly a “superfood” (meaning it may have some health benefits), I’m mostly interested in it for the taste, which tastes like a tart cross between a cranberry and a blueberry. The berries are native to South America, but you can find the puree at Whole Foods or on the Interwebs. They’re delicious in juice form, but they’re especially awesome as a bowl, the frozen puree packs blended with frozen bananas until the consistency is like ice cream.

From there, the possibilities are endless. Some days, I’ll add frozen berries or cacao or oats or yogurt. This time, driven by my tropical cravings, I added frozen pineapples, mangoes and orange juice to the blender, then topped everything with fresh mango chunks, peanut butter and chia seeds. The end result was bright and fresh and creamy, perfect for savoring while on a sandy beach but also pretty great as a tropical treat in your normal, ordinary apartment. …

Carrot Cake Cupcakes

Anyone who knows me knows that chocolate is my preferred cake of choice. Variations include chocolate with red wine, chocolate with bourbon, chocolate with coffee, chocolate with caramel, and even a version that can be made in a coffee mug, but they all start in the same place: with chocolate.

So carrot cake was never much on my radar. I mean don’t get me wrong — I’m not going to turn down a slice. But I never gravitated toward it.

But recently, I feel like I’ve been craving fresher, brighter things. Tropics-inspired breakfasts and colorful crunchy slaws and even cheery yellow cocktails, and when inundated with pre-Easter images of cute bunnies holding carrots everywhere, I was swayed. The carrots are so delicious this time of year — why not turn them into cake*? I had dreams of cute piped carrots on top, or perhaps bunny-faced cakes … maybe this was the year my inner Ina revealed itself.

Alas, ’twas not meant to be. It’s been a long time since I’ve destroyed a recipe as badly as I (almost) ruined this one. It’s no fault of the original recipe, which looked lovely and easy and adorably appropriate for spring. But baking on a weeknight, in a post-work / post-gym / post-dinner haze, is not my best look, and it turns out that adding an extra third-cup of oil to cake batter does have adverse effects. My cupcakes were definitely greasy, which is not an adjective I’d ever want to associate with cake. Also, I used olive oil, and … life lesson: if you’re going to mess up the amount of oil you add to a baked good, please don’t make it such a flavorful oil.

HOWEVER. Even despite my best efforts to wreck the recipe, these carrot cake cupcakes are delicious. They’re plush and deeply spiced and filled with tiny bits of carrot in every bite. The crumb can only be described by that word-that-cannot-be-named (hint: it starts with an m and makes me cringe every time), made even more so by my overly generous addition of oil. It’s capped by a tangy-sweet cream cheese frosting, a perfect balance for the sugar and spice in the cake.

These are even better on Day Two, when the spices have had a chance to settle and meld, which means it’s perfect for making ahead and bringing to your Easter (or Mother’s Day or bridal shower or graduation or any other spring-related holiday) feast. I won’t tell you how many I’ve eaten already — you know, for testing purposes — and if you’re even two percent less spazzy in the kitchen tonight, you’ll be rewarded generously.

*I went with cupcakes instead of a layer cake, since they’re easier to transport and therefore carry to your party and/or foist off on unsuspecting coworkers … …

Parmesan Mashed Potato Cakes

Today in weird facts about me that you probably didn’t need to know: I almost always have leftover mashed potatoes in the fridge. Whether in sweet or regular potato* form, they are a go-to side for me, and I am a terrible judge of how many potatoes equals how many servings.

The problem is, reheated mashed potatoes are at best “meh.” Most of time, they’re just flat-out not good, at least to my pain-in-the-butt palate, as the texture gets gummy and weird. Faced with a bowl full of leftover spuds a few months ago, I was browsing the Internet for what to do with them, and happened upon a recipe for mashed potato cakes. That recipe led to another, which led to another, and then 20 minutes later, I pulled myself out of my rabbit hole and immediately knew what I needed to do.

Turns out, the simple act of dredging the mashed potatoes in a bit of seasoned flour and pan-frying them turns them into crisp-edged fritter-like cakes with creamy melt-in-your-mouth interiors. Seriously, the mashed potatoes get so soft on the inside they’re like little clouds. And because I couldn’t resist the chance to gild the lily and added Parmesan to the flour mix, you get a little frico action going. (Frico is basically crispy cheese heaven.) In short, blah leftover mashed potatoes transform into the perfect appetizer, especially if you whip up a quick dipping sauce on the side. (I recommend this chipotle aioli.)

But where these mashed potato cakes really shine: with an egg on top. All that gorgeous drippy yolk on the creamy mashed potatoes … I won’t get obscene, but take my word for it — they’re delicious. So delicious that it’s worth cooking up a pot of mashed potatoes just for the leftovers, not that I’d ever do that …

*I always go back and forth on sharing a mashed potatoes recipe on this site. Everyone loves theirs a specific way, and does the world really need another recipe? Do you have a go-to?

Note: After making this, I realized it’s really similar to a very common Indian snack: aloo chop (or aloo tikki). Mashed potatoes are mixed with spices and then formed into patties and fried, the only difference being that they’re dredged in an egg-breadcrumb mixture instead of flour. I shared my recipe a long time ago, and they’re BOMB, in case you want a slightly spicier version of your mashed potato cakes.

…

A Classic Old-Fashioned

My original intention was to post this recipe on Friday morning. That makes sense, right? An old-fashioned is a classic Friday drink, simple enough to throw together after a long day at work, but complex enough to make one say “it’s Friday and I deserve this.”

Alas, work got in the way, and I wasn’t able to cobble together a post in time (which is sad for many reasons, chiefly because I’m sure you could have used an old-fashioned on Friday). And now, somehow, it’s Sunday afternoon, which is probably not peak old-fashioned time in your eyes, but I’m here to change your mind.

Truth is, I recipe-tested these old-fashioneds last Sunday (let’s not talk about the lag time between “recipe created” and “recipe posted” … I wish I had a better excuse than “OMG I’m just so busy”). They are kind of the perfect way to cap off your weekend and ward off the Sunday scaries. For one, they’re insanely easy to make — no fancy cocktail shaking skills required, just a simple blend of bourbon, sugar and bitters, which fascinate me endlessly because they’ve been around since the ancient Egyptians and hit all of my favorite periods of history (the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, etc.) Monks probably made bitters, which means I’m 100% sold.

Old-fashioneds are also pretty smooth and not overwhelmingly boozy, which means, even if you’re rigorously “testing” your cocktail recipe, you don’t wake up feeling groggy or blah the next day. They’re actually quite lovely, a slightly sweet partner for your Sunday evening, something to sip on while you meal prep like a boss, catch up on emails, or even say goodbye (tear, tear) to your new favorite show.

(Obviously, none of that is to say that it’s not perfect for Friday nights. You will never have a bad time drinking a classic old-fashioned. That’s just fact.) …

Spring Lentil Salad with Crisped Prosciutto

Somehow, in the madness of freak March snowstorms and half-marathoning and everything that is happening in the world, I somehow missed the most important news of all: it’s officially SPRING.

While spring also means ramps, leeks, spring onions, radishes and peas, my heart beats only for asparagus. Verdant, grassy, crispy-crunchy — though is site is already full of asparagus recipes (see here, here, here, here and here), there’s always space for more.

In my endless quest to create easy lunch-friendly recipes, I inevitably go back to the same formula: some sort of grain (quinoa, rice, orzo, etc.) + roasted or sauteed (or sometimes fresh!) vegetables + possibly a protein and some sort of makeshift dressing. It’s an infinite well of ideas, and can be adapted for whatever season (it’s no wonder that I already have winter, fall and summer versions).

And now, a spring version. This spring lentil salad takes advantage of the season’s first asparagus, as well as white beans, ricotta salata and, to really take this over the top, shards of crisped prosciutto. Asparagus and prosciutto are always delicious together, but in my experience, prosciutto always gets super clumpy and weird in salads. My solution was to saute it until it got crisp and the porky salty goodness intensified, and the hardest part was not eating all of the prosciutto crumbles while the asparagus sauteed on the stove. (Thankfully, that doesn’t take very long — the entire meal comes together in less than 30 minutes.)

The end result is a gorgeous salad that screams spring. ‘Bout time already! …

Roasted Berries

This time of year is so tricky for me. It’s still COLD outside (hello random March nor’easter) but I’m so tired of heavy winter fare. My eye is on summer (and swimsuit season) and I crave lighter, more fresh meals, and above all, new fruits and vegetables. Don’t get me wrong: I love a good root vegetable and I’m into the pears and the apples, etc. But after 4+ long months of eating Brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes and carb upon carb, I’m ready for new inspiration.

The problem is, my favorite warm-weather produce isn’t quite ready for me. Nowhere do I feel this more acutely than when buying berries, which have started to crop up at the grocery store for less than $6 a pint but are still sad pale-bellied imitations of their summer selves. While they’re certainly a welcome reminder of things to come, they lack the sweet robust “berry-ness” that I’m looking for.

Enter this genius idea that I stumbled upon while looking for a new oatmeal recipe. Roasting the (in this case) blueberries concentrates their flavors, enhances their sweetness and creates a lovely berry sauce in the process. While the original post used a combination of blueberries and maple syrup, I went with regular sugar, a touch of lemon zest and a mix of blueberries and raspberries.

It’s a little embarrassing to call these roasted berries a “recipe,” since the steps are literally just “mix” and “bake,” but I am so in love with this idea that I couldn’t not share. Everything is so easy to put together that you can pop it in the oven pre-coffee, continue about with your morning routine, and pull them out of the oven, bursting and beautiful, 15 minutes later. As bae said, “you’re really doing the most right now,” but it can be your secret that “the most” is super easy and involves no work.

And your reward is something that literally goes with EVERYTHING. All the breakfast — oatmeal (which is what I did initially), yogurt, pancakes, waffles, French toast — but also ice cream, vanilla pudding or custards, a side for creme brulee, a topping for cheesecake or pound cake or angel food cake or even served in a dessert cup, with a dollop of lightly sweetened whipped cream on the side. If you don’t hear from me for the next few weeks, it’s because I’ll be roasting berries on repeat … send help! …

Perfect Roast Chicken

For someone who roasts a whole chicken probably once a month, it’s a bit embarrassing that I only have three roast chicken recipes on this site. While all of them are delicious, none of them are my go-to recipe, and that’s an oversight.

Roasting a chicken is the perfect Sunday night dinner, for three main reasons:

1) Perfect crispy skin requires air-drying the chicken for a few hours, and Sundays are perfect for that — unwrap the chicken and pat it down with paper towels, then let it sit in the fridge uncovered for 4-6 hours.

2) Who doesn’t love a succulent roast chicken on a Sunday night? Best way to beat the Sunday scaries.

3) The leftovers are a godsend for busy weeknights: chopped into a quick salad or pasta dish, shredded and tossed with enchilada sauce for easy chicken tacos, thrown into a casserole — the possibilities are endless.

A perfect roast chicken must have two things: crispy skin and juicy, tender, flavorful meat. Air-drying the skin and then rubbing it with a seasoned oil ensures skin that’s so crispy that it audibly crackles, the kind of skin that literally starts fights. (“Did you eat my chicken skin?” “… I thought you were done eating …” Yes, these are the things bae and I argue over.) Sitting the chicken on a roasting rack (or better yet, a vegetable trivet*) also keeps the skin crispy, since the fat can drip off without leaving the underside of the chicken rubbery.

I use a blend of thyme, rosemary, oregano, basil, garlic powder, paprika and lots of kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper. (If you have certain spices you love with chicken, feel free to swap them in — this is all about comfort food and what you want to eat.) Placing a lemon and some garlic cloves in the chicken cavity also imparts a ton of flavor throughout the meat, and the lemon keeps the breast meat juicy. I also use one of my favorite turkey roasting techniques: starting the chicken breast-side down and then flipping it halfway through cooking.

An hour in the oven transforms the chicken into crispy-skinned, tender-fleshed perfection. It needs nothing more than the roasted vegetables at the bottom of the pan and a carby side. (Perfect potatoes to go with your perfect roast chicken, perhaps?) …

Sheet-Pan Chicken “Stir Fry”

I’ve mentioned in the past how stir fries kind of stress me out. They require a certain amount of speed and some grace, and all of that tossing and stirring and shaking is a little too much for this spastic human. I inevitably end up sweaty and stressed, with cramping wrists and water at the bottom of my wok, none of which is ideal.

But stir fries are a delicious way to eat LOTS of vegetables, and therefore something that I should be making far more often. Thankfully, I had a rare “AHA” moment while running the other day. (Usually my thoughts ping pong between “when is this over?” and “what unhealthy things can I eat when I’m done,” never “how can I consume more vegetables?”) But as I climbed yet another hill in Central Park, I thought to myself I throw most of my other dinners on a sheet pan — why not take that tactic here?

Roasting the “stir fry” takes a wee-bit longer than the traditional route, but since it’s so hands-off, it frees up your time for rice- or quinoa-making, post-gym showering or whatever you might do with a free half-hour. And who doesn’t love a free half-hour?

PLUS, let’s talk about this marinade. Both the chicken and the vegetables take a dive in all of my favorite things: ginger, garlic, chili-garlic sauce, toasted sesame oil, rice wine vinegar and soy sauce. It’s spicy, salty, umami heaven. Veggies-wise, I used a mix of broccoli, mushrooms, bell peppers and carrots, but you can use whatever you like: snow peas, Brussels sprouts, baby corn, sliced onions, etc. Just make sure your vegetables are cut so that they cook in the 30-minute time frame.

Needless to say, this “stir fry” was a big hit flavor-wise, and the convenience can’t be beat. Get ready for sheet-pan stir fry everything, because I’m OBSESSED. …

Pear-Hazelnut Oat Muffins

In the never-ending quest to live my best life, I woke up the other day with an insatiable desire to bake muffins. I imagined that baking wholesome, hearty muffins, laden with all of the “good” things (whole grains, seeds, fruit, nuts) and very little of the “bad” things (sugar), would be really key to my continued growth as a human. I dug up my go-to for idyllic morning inspiration, Megan Gordon’s Whole Grain Mornings. I very rarely cook out of cookbooks (there’s no space in my kitchen to keep the book!), but hers is amazing — full of recipes that make healthy eating delicious, surprising and inspiring.

I immediately honed in on the pear-hazelnut oat muffins recipe (and not just because it’s the only muffin recipe in the book). It looked intriguing: a new-to-me combo of pears and hazelnuts, whole oats in the batter, a healthy dose of earnestness, but no skimping on flavor. I excitedly rushed to the store to pick up pears and hazelnuts, ran home and began to bake.

Forty-five minutes later, after somehow getting pear in my hair and hazelnuts skins in every single crevice of my kitchen (where they will remain until I die), I was throwing on my snow boots and trying to find the other glove because I had, of course, forgotten a crucial ingredient (baking soda). Moral of the story: these muffins aren’t the magical key to your best life, at least not if you are as forgetful, crazy and/or a general hot mess as yours truly.

The muffins are, however, delicious. I got a little extra and browned the butter in addition to toasting the hazelnuts, which meant that these are deeply nutty. In my last experiment with baking pears, I diced them, but here, they’re grated, meaning little bits of pear in every bite. It’s messy (see: pear in hair) but so worth it for that subtle floral note. They’re even better on Day 2, once the flavors have gotten a chance to really meld together, which makes them perfect for baking in advance.

I ended up baking these before a weekend trip to the Hudson Valley. The process of making them may have been less than glamorous, but let me tell you: when I finally bit into one of these, with a steaming cup of coffee by my side, a cozy fire blazing in front of me and snow falling outside, I really was living my best life. WIN. …

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