bites out of life

Cast-Iron Steak

For someone who eats a ton of meat (and cooks a fair amount of it), it’s a little surprising that I don’t have a definitive steak recipe on here. That’s because I was under the impression that that thick, salty crust and melt-in-your-mouth meat were a hallmark of steakhouses alone, and not something one could do at home. FALSE FALSE FALSE.

As it turns out, you absolutely can make drool-worthy steak at home. All you need are a cast-iron skillet, a good amount of coarse salt, some freshly cracked black pepper, a strong exhaust fan and/or an understanding that your apartment will smell like burnt cow for a solid three or four days. (Who needs a White Castle candle when you can have parfum de boeuf?)

There are a few rules for picking out your steak. First, avoid bone-in cuts, since they require longer cooking times. Choose a steak that’s about one inch thick — any thicker and it won’t cook through on the stove. Ideally, you’d want a strip, hanger, skirt or flat iron steak, though I used a 1/2-inch thick sirloin and got great results. So as long as your steak is relatively thin and flat, you should be ok.

The most important things to remember here: hot and dry. In order to get a good sear on the meat, your pan must be piping hot and the meat must be dry dry dry. Cast-iron skillets are ideal because they can get much hotter than other skillets and also distribute heat more evenly, but any thick-bottomed skillet will do. Air out the steak for up to an hour, patting it repeatedly with paper towels so that the meat is as dry as possible.

Julia Moskin’s method has you salt the pan instead of salting the steak, since the dry salt and the hot pan help form that highly sought-after crust. And rather than adding the steak to the pan and letting it sit, Moskin suggests flipping it often, so that the meat never gets a chance to really overcook. (If your pan is hot enough, you’ll get a nice brown char on the meat almost immediately, so no need to worry about that.) The meat should be on the stove for no longer than 5 minutes for a rare or medium rare steak, and it should rest for at least 10 minutes before you start slicing.

I don’t need to tell you how delicious this shizz is. Just look at those bad boys. And then go out, buy yourself a steak and get to cooking.

…

Dispatches From Memorial Day Weekend

Guys, where has the time gone? It’s already (unofficially) summer! To celebrate the start of my favorite season (and also a very special 27th birthday), a group of friends and I rented a house on Long Island this weekend. It was the rare weekend that was busy but relaxing, and we spent most of it in a wine- and sun-soaked haze.

In between beach outings and winery visits and rounds of Taboo, we managed to do quite a bit of cooking. Saturday night, we put togehter a big feast. The stars of the show were two beer-can chickens, using this Sam Sifton recipe from the New York Times. I’ve always wanted to make beer-can chicken, and when I found out our house had a grill, I insisted we try it. (Thankfully, my friends don’t mind indulging my whims.)

We grilled two small chickens for the seven of us, applying a pre-mixed Cajun spice rub on the chickens and sticking cans of Negro Modelo up their butts. It’s a little awkward (and endlessly amusing to a juvenile mind like my own), and we had some issues getting the chickens to stay upright on the grill. But the end result was an incredibly juicy, flavorful chicken. The skin wasn’t as crispy as when I’ve roasted chickens in the oven, but there was considerably less fat involved with this chicken, which is always a plus during swimsuit season.

That night we also prepped our breakfast for the next morning: leek bread pudding, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen. Though we kept the ingredients the same, we made some serious tweaks to the process of this recipe in order to streamline it, and I will definitely be making this again soon. It was hearty enough to keep us going during multiple winery visits, but didn’t feel overly heavy. Topped with a fried egg and accompanied by slices of crispy bacon (and a mimosa, of course [#treatyoself]), it was the perfect birthday brunch for Nila. …

Slow-Cooker Tacos Al Pastor

Let’s not talk about how long ago I made this recipe (pre-Cinco de Mayo) or what I’ve cooked since then (nothing). Instead, let’s focus on what I’ve been doing in the meantime: celebrating The Huffington Post’s 10th anniversary (and also Mother’s Day), hanging out with my new BFF Chopped judge Alex Guarnaschelli, running the Brooklyn Half, hitting up ’90s hip-hop dance parties and mourning the end of Mad Men. (And yes, I could’ve actually written about all of those things instead of just linking to Instagram, but ~~I’m crazy lazy today~~ a picture is worth a thousand words.)

Tacos al pastor have an interesting history: traditionally, the pork is marinated with pineapple, dried chiles and other spices, and then cooked on a rotating vertical spit, similar to shawarma or doner kebab. It was likely brought to central Mexico by Lebanese immigrants, who fled there after the fall of the Ottoman Empire during World War I. (Although shawarma is usually made with lamb or chicken, pork reigns supreme in Mexico.) I first had al pastor tacos during my trip to Los Cabos, and the spicy-sweet combo of pineapple, chili and perfectly crisp but melty pork stuck with me.

That it’s taken me weeks to write about these slow-cooker tacos al pastor in no way reflects how delicious they are. To be clear: they’re bomb. I enjoyed them immensely on Cinco de Mayo, and for days afterward, since the recipe creates a ton of meat. And I used the leftover pork to make nachos and scrambles and a weird but good mash of meat and tortilla and avocado and salsa — a shoddy attempt at chilaquiles, perhaps? As with all slow-cooker situations, the pork is super easy, though I cooked it on the stove for a few to get it seared and a bit crispy. That’s totally optional, and if you prefer your tacos saucy, I’d skip it.

We’re finally in the best part of the year: picnic / BBQ / outdoor party season, where easy, transportable, fresh meals are de rigeur and any excuse to make margs is in high demand. So what I’m really saying is … You’re welcome. …

Salted Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars*

I tried and tried to think of a “peg” for this recipe (you know, tying it to seasonality or recent holidays or something going on in my life … ). But then I realized: chocolate chip cookies need no peg.

There should never be a reason to bake chocolate chip cookies, just like there should never be a reason to pop bottles of cava or eat cake for dinner or have leftover Chinese for breakfast. Sometimes, “Monday” is a reason, or “Tuesday” or “Wednesday” or … you get my drift. I don’t need an explanation for why I’m talking about chocolate chip cookies today, and you should never need an explanation for why you’re eating chocolate chip cookies.

ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY’RE THIS GOOD.

And yes, that all-caps is deserved. I fell in love with this recipe on Smitten Kitchen, as I do with everything on her site. But it was hardly a fair fight. Chunks of deep dark chocolate, barely encased by a dough of three sugars, a smidge of flour, a whole lotta butter and a fair amount of salt? Who could resist?

In my infinite laziness, I made these into chocolate chip cookie bars, since the dough was a bit difficult to deal with. Plus, I didn’t want to bother with rolling out two dozen cookies when I could just dump the dough into a pan and then slice afterwards. Needless to say, this worked out deliciously.

I waited three days to make these, which means I lived three whole days without them in my belly. Don’t make that mistake. They are everything you’ve always wanted from a chocolate chip cookie, but better because they’re neat little squares, all warm and puddly and soft and perfect … ok fine, I’ll pull myself together now. But only long enough to make another batch.

*I know, technically these are blondies. But chocolate chip cookie bars sounds so much more exciting! And I already have the perfect blondie recipe. Indulge me. …

Minty Pea Pesto Pasta

We’ve finally reached the fun part of half-marathon training: the taper. As I’ve mentioned before, experts recommend that in the last two weeks before a big race, you take it easy and eat lots of carbs. Well, if you insist …

Beyond the ~~occasional~~Â weekly french fry-binge, I don’t eat a ton of carbs when I’m not training. So it’s hard to think of recipes that are more exciting than spaghetti with red sauce. Large amounts of cheese make my stomach hurt (I know. It’s a rough life I lead.) so mac and cheese is out. Somehow, despiteÂ being Indian, I have yet to cook a pot of rice properly in my lifetime, so that’s out too. And there’s only so many sandwiches a girl can take, especially when if she doesn’tÂ like basic lunch meats or American cheese.

Early spring produce lends itself wonderfully to fresh, bright pasta dishes. Think penne with asparagus, spaghetti with grilled artichokes, Â spinach and goat cheese mac. I was drawn, as I always am, to Smitten Kitchen, and Deb’s verdant linguine with pea pesto. It was easy, and took advantage of in-season ingredients — two of my favorite things.

Of course, being the royal PITA that I am, I had to make some changes. I saw some mint at the store and love the combo of mint and peas, so in that went. Forgot to buy pine nuts, so #deuces.Â I had planned to crumble some browned pancetta into the pasta, but I caught a case of the Sunday lazies and didn’t want to have to fry anything up. So this version is vegetarian, but would be equally delicious, as all things are, with a bit of crispy salty pork.

The end result is more akin to a pasta saladÂ than the heavy baked pastasÂ of winter. It’s a lighter carbo-load, one that can keep me going on Mile 12 but can also be your favorite dinner this season, since it pairs perfectly with a deck, a sunset and an ice-cold Chardonnay.Â …

Meyer Lemon Tea Cakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

Obviously there can be no Game of Thrones-inspired dinner party without Sansa’s beloved lemon cakes. But don’t worry, I’m not going to expend another 750 words on Game of Thrones again.

Instead, let’s talk about how, for the second time in a few weeks, I’m obsessed with a lemon dessert. In the past, I haven’t been a huge fan, since sour things make my mouth pucker and my teeth hurt, but as it turns out, adding sugar dulls that tart bite. (Who knew?) And as I discovered long ago, Meyer lemons are sweeter than their traditional supermarket counterpoints, so they provide all of that fresh, bright lemon flavor without the tooth-numbing acid punch.

Meyer lemons shine in these tea cakes, providing just enough of a kick to lighten up an otherwise dense poundcake-like cake. Adding cream cheese to the cake batter provides a nice richness to the cakes, but I’ll be honest — it’s a good thing they’re small, since the cake would be very heavy in large slices. The original recipe called for a glaze, but I used the leftover cream cheese to make a quick lemony frosting.

The cake is a one-bowl affair, the frosting requires one step and the result is delicious. So what I’m really saying is: here is your perfect Mother’s Day / bridal shower / spring brunch / summer potluck dessert, a make-ahead crowd-pleaser that you’ll gladly make over and over and over again. …

Honey-Roasted Chicken with Lemon and Tarragon

I know there was never a doubt in your guys’ mind, but it was confirmed this weekend: I’m a huge dork. While millions of people were rightfully excited about the return of Game of Thrones, the epic HBO show that involves giants, dwarves, dragons and one very gorgeous man, I decided that merely watching the episode was not enough. I had to create a full-on feast inspired by the series, and foist it upon some friends.

In my defense, George R.R. Martin’s descriptions of medieval feasts are so detailed that there’s an entire GoT cookbook based on the books. And while those passages have been lambasted by those who read the books merely for the political intrigue or intense action (ie. the “interesting” stuff), I find the feast scenes fascinating. Most of what people ate is similar to stuff we eat now — stew, bread, roast meat, etc. But some of the stuff is crazy: pigeon pie and honeyed dormice and spiny grubs and of course, Danaerys and her horse heart.

Obviously I had no intention of tracking down a friggin’ horse (EWWWWWW.). But I had a CSA chicken in the freezer and lemons in the fridge, and for the first time in a long time, the time and energy to embark on a long cooking project. I cobbled together an easy enough menu: honeyed chicken (which Jon eats during his last meal at Winterfell), mushrooms roasted in garlic butter (which Tyrion eats with Illyrio Mopatis — very in line with the premiere episode!) and lemon cakes, which are Sansa’s favorite. (Yes, I know, I’m a weirdo.)

This was my second attempt at roasting a whole bird, and I used a bunch of my turkey tips here: “air-chilling” the bird so that it dries out completely before roasting, making an herb butter to flavor the meat, roasting the chicken upside down to start and resting the meat after it comes out of the oven. It’s a pretty simple process, and basting the chicken with the honey mixture ensures a shiny, perfectly bronzed final product — at least until you get distracted and leave that bad boy in the oven a few minutes too long …

Even if you’re not obsessed with Game of Thrones, this chicken is a winner. It’s juicy, the skin gets perfectly crisp and the potatoes underneath are heavenly. And if you are a GoT fan? Your Sundays just got even better. …

Radish Tartine with Herbed Ricotta

One of the best and worst parts of joining a CSA is that each month, the fruits and vegetables I get are a total surprise. It’s a lot of fun to open the box at work, but it makes for some tricky cooking and eating when you get a huge pile of vegetables that you’re not so into. Case in point? This month’s box, which came brimming with kale, salad greens, apples, a beet — all good things — and a whole lotta radishes.

In general, I am not a radish fan. They’re too sharp and too spicy for my tastes, and I try to avoid them. I even carried the radishes all the way to Maryland, in hopes of foisting them on my parents. Didn’t work, so I spent a significant portion of my ride back home contemplating what to do with them. Some of them would be braised, some roasted, and some of them were used in this radish tartine, an open-faced sandwich brimming with flavor and screaming out spring!

Tartine is just a fancy French way of saying “open-faced sandwich.” This version layers herbed ricotta on a thick slice of rye, then tops it with microgreens (another CSA treat!) and thinly sliced radishes. The ricotta dulls a bit of the radishes’ bite, making it much more palatable, at least to me. It’s a simple dish, but delicious — the kind of light dinner that pairs perfectly with warmer temperatures and a glass of rose. I wouldn’t say that I’m a radish convert, but I can’t wait to see what’s in my next CSA! …

Irish Lamb Stew with Guinness

Whoa guys, it’s been a while. Since we last hung out, I’ve survived a weekend in Atlantic City, started half training in earnest, watched a TON of college basketball, discovered my new fave tapas place in NYC, come in third place at Friends trivia, and prepped for an all-new exciting project at work.

What I haven’t been doing? Cooking, cleaning, unpacking the many suitcases I’ve used over the past month, folding laundry, catching up on Mad Men ahead of the final season premiere(!!) and just generally being at home for extended periods of time. Which is why this recipe comes to you so late.

Three weeks ago, when “Feels like 17F” was still a thing and “hearty” was the only acceptable kind of meal, this recipe would have been super useful. Now? Oh you know, it’s just a delicious, warming stew that takes your last lingering root vegetables, plus the best of spring’s new produce and meat,* to form a rich meal relatively cheaply. NBD.

Stews are a staple in Ireland, always served with hearty bread and creamy, dreamy butter. (No seriously, I still dream about that butter.) Made with beef or lamb, with whatever vegetables are around — sturdier root vegetables in the winter, more peas and carrots in warmer weather — it’s the quintessential comfort food. I also had a bottle of Guinness in the fridge, so I threw that in, adding a bit of malty body to the stew.

It was delicious two weeks ago when I made it, but this Irish lamb stew would be just as delicious now, one last hearty meal to usher you into spring.

*Did you know that meat is seasonal too? Animals have natural growth and slaughter cycles, which is why we associate turkeys with fall (ie. Thanksgiving) and ham or lamb with Easter and spring. Here’s a good explainer from Polyface Farm owner and small-farm advocate Joel Salatin. …

Lemon Bars with Olive Oil and Sea Salt

Four years ago, I made lemon bars for a family party. They were a huge hit, especially with my mom, who raved about them for days afterwards. And then weeks afterwards. And then years afterwards. I didn’t pick up on her numerous hints, partly because I can be really dense and partly because, while she loved them, I was less convinced.

They were good, for sure, but they weren’t the bomb-diggity.* A bit too one-note: just bright, tart lemon on a buttery shortbread base. (Cue a collective eye roll at my pain-in-the-butt-ness.) But then, a few months ago, I spotted Melissa Clark’s lemon bars, tricked out with olive oil and a touch of sea salt. I immediately emailed the recipe to my mom, who promptly bought a bag full of lemons and waited for me to come home.

And despite my best attempts to ruin them, these lemon bars are perfect. Olive oil and citrus are a wonderful pairing, and the fruity bitterness of the oil complements the lemons here nicely. The salt adds an extra layer of complexity, elevating these bars to “sophisticated,” “chic” and a bunch of other grown-up words that one rarely associates with lemon bars.

There’s not a chance that we go four years between making these.

*I’ve been listening to the “No Diggity” playlist on Pandora a lot recently. They really don’t make music like they used to … …

Fall-toush Salad

In honor of the sunny skies and almost balmy temperatures (50 degrees! Feels like heaven!), I’m going to keep things short today. After all, there’s outside time to be had, especially now that the sun is still shining at 7 p.m.

And before you besmirch my good name, I did not come up with this name. “Fall-toush” comes from Smitten Kitchen, whose love of good/bad puns is one reason why I’m convinced we’re culinary kindred spirits. Another reason? Her love of easy salads that take seasonal ingredients, cook them in a very unobtrusive way and add just a little something-something to make the whole thing really pop.

This is based on fattoush, the Levantine salad made with toasted pita, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers and mint and other herbs. It’s usually full of summery vegetables, but alas, those are nowhere to be found. So Deb took a winter approach to the salad, using Brussels sprouts and squash instead. I had leftover tahini, so I hacked together a quick dressing to bring the whole thing together.

It’s a supremely simple meal — roasted vegetables with a little dressing — that is so much more than the sum of its humble parts: smoky and spicy and creamy and crunchy and full of flavor, hearty enough for the lingering cold but with a sneaky eye on swimsuit season. It’s so good that it almost makes me forget how tired I am of winter fare … #nomorerootvegetablesplease …

“Crazy” Bolognese Sauce

I know I complain about the weather a lot, but as it turns out, there’s a biological reason for all of that whining: I found out this weekend that I’m allergic to cold weather. Like skin-bright-red, entire-body-broke-out-in-hives, itchy-like-you-wouldn’t-believe allergic. My body is straight up rejecting winter. (Also, in related news, not the smartest idea to run for 1+ hour when it’s 20 degrees out … )

I’m in the worst phase of my annual winter doldrums, where each day begins with the demoralizing realization that it’s a snow boots + puffy coat day yet again. I’ve resorted to eating carbs on carbs on carbs, oatmeal and mac and cheese and potatoes and lots and lots of cake. (“Summer bodies are built in winter,” they say at the gym. I can no longer even conceptualize summer.) I very wistfully bought sandals in the hopes that they’ll magically bring on warm weather, only to get caught in yet another snowstorm yesterday afternoon. At least I’ll be flying the coop to San Francisco soon, though I’m a bit afraid I’ll get out there and flat out refuse to come back.

(How’s that for a crazy person rant?)

To go with my all-you-can-eat carbs, I made this “crazy” bolognese sauce. It’s built on a basic pasta sauce recipe, but then I went ahead and cleared out my kitchen: mushrooms I accidentally bought, chicken sausage I found in the freezer, a bit of wine left over from a party, some Parmesan rinds I found in the back of the fridge, etc. etc.

A long simmer on the stove brings all of those flavors together, creating a thick, hearty sauce that’s full of meaty flavor but light on the actual meat (only a half-pound!) I had mine with spaghetti squash, on the offhand chance that some day, I will finally be able to once again wear fewer than four layers of clothing and maybe even a *gasp* sundress. …

Jamie Oliver’s Chicken in Milk

Last month, I went out and did the yuppiest thing I could ever do: I joined a CSA. Our office started one for HuffPosters, and a co-worker and I split a share, so it ultimately turned out to be relatively reasonable: roughly $40 a month for a random assortment of vegetables (which I can’t pick), meats, cheeses, eggs, dairy, granola and even prepared meals (which I can pick).

What is a CSA?* Short for Community Supported Agriculture, CSAs are a way for farmers to provide fresh, local, seasonal food directly to customers, while receiving advance money from those customers to set up (or keep fueling) their farming operations. Customers pay for their monthly (or bi-weekly, depending on the program) boxes up front, and then receive whatever bounty from the farm on a regular basis. In the NYC region, that means that during summer months, you may get a box full of fresh tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, peppers and all sorts of fruit. And during the winter you get … root vegetables. Some CSAs offer only fruits and vegetables, and others partner with dairy, beef, pork or chicken farms to offer other options.

Our CSA, run through Eat Food Distributors, sells all different types of meats, plus offerings from a few different dairy farms and some local artisanal products. While you can pick from those options, you have no say in what fruits/vegetables you’ll receive, which is solely based on what the farmers have available at that time. And let me tell you, it is unreasonably exciting to open up your bag and see what goodies are in store for you each month. (Or maybe I just need to get a life.)

Our February box came with some onions, potatoes, beets, apples and some greens — typical winter fare in the Northeast. To add to it, I ordered a whole chicken. I had spotted Jamie Oliver’s Chicken in Milk recipe a few weeks prior and decided “I must make this now.” “Now” turned into “once my CSA box arrives” and then into “when I have a free day to spend a few hours cooking chicken,” which arrived in the form of a surprise day off on President’s Day. And what better time to use a fancy organic, pasture-raised chicken than in what The Kitch calls the best chicken recipe of all time?”

It sounds weird (and wholly unkosher), but you take a whole chicken, brown it in a bit of butter and then braise / roast it in a pint of milk with cinnamon, sage, lemon and a whole lotta garlic. You would be right to be skeptical — those aromatics don’t seem like they would go together — but trust in Oliver. The lemon and cinnamon infuse the chicken with a brightness mellowed only by the sweet roasted garlic and the herby sage.

The best part of this chicken is the sauce — the lemon zest and heat transform the milk into curds, which are creamy and tangy and unreasonably delicious. (It’s similar to the way my mom makes channa, the soft milk curds that form the base of many Indian sweets, slowly heating a gallon of whole milk with lemon juice until the milk curdles and forms small ricotta-like curds.) This milk sauce is heavenly, imbued with lemon zest and all the caramelized buttery chicken bits from the browning stage and a touch of cinnamon … while I can’t say you absolutely must join a CSA now (they’re expensive and a little fussy), you absolutely must make this chicken in milk now.

*I wrote about CSAs on this here blog literally 5 years ago, while working on my Master’s project. Time flies. …

Cooking 101: Perfect Roasted Potatoes

In my February newsletter, I introduced Cooking 101, a series of posts focused on basic recipes that every cook should have in their repertoire. Today: the perfect roasted potatoes.

There are side dishes that pair well with specific dishes (think steak with creamed spinach or pernil with rice and beans), and then there are side dishes that go withÂ everything. Roasted potatoes fall solidly in the latter category.

In my eyes, the perfect roasted potatoes are crispy and golden on the outside, but soft and tender once you bite in. There are a few tips I’ve picked up on my many, many attempts at making these:

Use the right kind of potatoes. Avoid Russet or Idaho potatoes, since they’re starchy and can lose their shape in the oven. Instead, opt for Yukon golds, fingerlings, red-skinned potatoes or purple or blue potatoes.

Cut the potatoes into same-sized pieces. To ensure that the potatoes cook evenly, make sure they’re all cut to the same size.

Coat the potatoes in dressing evenly. Whether you’re tossing the potatoes with a touch of olive oil, herbs, spices or just salt and pepper, make sure that everything is evenly coated. You can do this in a large mixing bowl, or right on the baking sheet.

Don’t crowd the pan. If you overstuff your baking sheet, the potatoes will steam instead of roasting. Space out your potatoes when cooking so that the exteriors can crisp up nicely.

Roast at a high temperature. For a crispy outer crust and tender potato on the inside, roast at 425F. Lower temps won’t produce that nice golden crust.

Don’t be a helicopter cook. There’s no need to hover above your potatoes, checking them every few minutes. Toss them once or twice while cooking, and leave them alone otherwise — the oven will do the work for you.

I love roasting the potatoes with coarse mustard, but you can also add a bit more oil and spices or herbs to flavor them (perhaps rosemary, anyone?). These are so delicious that you’ll want to try every combination, multiple times, until you’ve perfected your own roasted potatoes recipe. …

Chicken and Brussels Sprouts Skillet

Sorry guys for gushing so hard in my last post … I know it’s annoying when people go on and on about their new relationships. I’ll try to keep it under control this time, but I can’t make any promises. Reason being? This chicken and Brussels sprouts skillet is amazing and made infinitely easier in one of these cast-iron bad boys.

Making dinner on weeknights is a chore that I kind of really hate — it’s why I cook enough food on Sundays to feed a football team. I’d rather reheat leftovers than have to start cooking after a long day at work, when I’m tired, starving and ready to collapse on the couch with my new favorite show. (And let’s be real … most nights, if I don’t have food already ready for me, I’m Seamless-ing so fast.)

But this one-pan dinner requires justÂ six ingredients, one of which is water. And if your Brussels sprouts were as adorably teeny-tiny as mine,Â there’s zero prep work. You could get fancy and marinate the chicken in balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper and olive oil for a half hour (or overnight), but you don’t need to — it picks up plenty of flavor as the skin gets perfectly crisp and golden on the stove, and then picks up some more from as the balsamic vinegar caramelizes around itÂ in the oven. Your end result is delicious, fast and pretty healthy, the three hallmarks of weeknight dinners. Gives new meaning to the phrase “winner, winner, chicken dinner” … …

Banana-Caramel Breakfast Bread Pudding

Guys, I’m in love. Not with another human, much to the chagrin of every wedding-hungry relative I have in India. Not with a stripper, unlike T-Pain. I’m in love with my brand new cast-iron skillet. (Just look at that beauty. Its dark ebony finish, its chemical-free nonstick surface, its chameleonic ability to go from stovetop to oven in mere seconds. Ok fine, I’ll stop now … )

I’ve wanted a cast-iron skillet for a while now, but hadn’t bought one out of fear. You know, “it’s hard to clean,” “it’s hard to season,” “it’s hard to maintain that nonstick finish.” All of those things might be true. But after years of stalling, I finally pulled the trigger.

Why? Because I spotted this recipe for breakfast bread pudding, which requires one to make a stovetop salted caramel and then bake the caramel with a loaf of challah and the most delicious eggy custard, which is a cinch to do in a cast-iron skillet. There was salted caramel on the line here. It was time.

This bread pudding rounded out my sister’s birthday brunch (along with this breakfast casserole and this dark chocolate stout cake, with a wee little bowl of berries on the side for “balance” [there was also OJ in my mimosa and tomato juice in my Bloody Mary, so that’s three fruits/vegetables, right?]).

And guys, this is a showstopper. The salty caramel, the barely sweet custard that transforms the rich bread into plush pillows of deliciousness. I added some bananas, since I love them and they pair so nicely with caramel-y custardy things. The bread pudding is just barely on the right side of “too sweet,” a breakfast indulgence for special occasions like birthdays or brunches or ya know … inaugurating your new favorite kitchen implement. …

Slow Cooker Chili

Generally, the Super Bowl is one of my favorite days of the year. It celebrates two of my favorite things — football and food — and makes it generally acceptable to eat heaps of melty cheese with plenty of meat on the side. Since my team never makes it, I generally concoct some sort of reason to root for one of the teams, adopt that team feverishly for 60 minutes of game time, then go to bed pleasantly full, a wee bit tipsy and not at all ready for a Monday at work.

This year, things are a bit different. I hate both teams (or more accurately, the coaches of both teams): my dislike of the smug gum-chomping Seahawks coach Pete Carroll is topped only by my complete abhorrence of all things Belichick. #Deflategate has only fanned the flames of my hostility (though it is my favorite news story of the past six months because I’m actually a child).

So, rather than focusing on football, I’m all in on the food. There will be dips, there will be wings, there will be nachos and there will be dessert (though most of it will be from Seamless, since I’ll be traveling on Sunday and won’t get home until just before gametime). Oh sure, the game will be on in the background. But my attention will be firmly on the amount of junk I can stuff down my gullet.

But for those of you who are more interested in what’s happening on the field, there’s this slow cooker chili. If you think I’ve been a little slow cooker-obsessed lately, well … you’re right. I’ve already waxed poetic about the benefits of one, and let’s be real: chili is mad easy, whichever way you make it. Honestly, the biggest plus in using the slow cooker here is that it frees up your stove for other recipes.

Don’t get me wrong though, this chili is bomb. It’s spicy, smoky, beefy, hearty — basically everything you want from chili. It would be excellent on hot dogs, fries, nachos or tater tots (totchos, anyone?), but is equally delicious in a bowl with a bit of cheese, some sour cream, a few jalapeÃ±os and an ice cold beer. Finally, something to look forward to on game day …

…

Blizzard-Proof Beef Bourguignon

The blizzard-pocalypse is upon us! On the offhand chance you somehow missed it, a large swath of the Northeast is supposed to get 2-3 feet of snow tonight and tomorrow morning. Thankfully, people are reacting calmly. (Don’t worry, that alert only called the storm “crippling.” Oh and “life-threatening.”Â God I love weather forecasters.)

And how is your trusty blogger handling the impending storm? By stocking up on all the essentials: wine, junk food, a new Netflix project and bowls of beef bourguignon.

Beef bourguignon is a traditional recipe from the Burgundy region of France. Beef braises in a mixture of red wine and beef stock, and bacon, butter-sauteed onions and mushrooms are also involved. It’s a bit of a project, but nothing too complicated, and besides, what else are you going to do when you’re snowed in?

The reward for your efforts is a heavenly stew that warms you right up, even on the coldest, snowiest nights. The smell that emanates from the beef bourguignon during its oven time is unbearably delicious, better than any scented candle or diffuser. But the best part: the pearl onions that are sauteed in butter and then cooked in beef stock with a bit of thyme. It took all of my willpower not to devour them immediately after they were cooked, and I still picked them out of the stew at an alarming rate.

A hearty, warming stew that guards against the cold, fills your home with fragrant aromas and pairs nicely with a ~~glass~~ bottle of wine? What more could a girl ask for during #Snowmaggedon2015? …

Slow Cooker Breakfast Casserole

High on the list of things I’ve always wanted to do but never had the space/wherewithal to put together is hosting brunch. I’ve spent so much of my lifetime waiting in line for brunch that it’s shameful that I haven’t yet decided to ditch the host/hostess overlords and take brunch into my own hands.

Brunch can be daunting, since in theory, it requires one to get up early and start cooking at the crack of dawn. A lot of popular dishes are “make right now” — think poached or fried eggs, pancakes, etc. But there’s a whole world of make-ahead breakfasts that feed a crowd with minimal effort. (This baked French toast, for one, orÂ any of these many frittatas.)

In an effort to keep my oven from pulling double-duty (I was baking something delicious that I can’t wait to tell you about, and no it wasn’t this epic cake), I decided to lean on my roommate’s slow cooker. She’s had the thing since October, and seriously guys, I cannotÂ stop gushing about this thing. Oatmeal, mashed potatoes, chicken, Chinese-style pork … all with the same instructions: dump ingredients in, walk away, come back a few hours later to an insanely good meal that required zero work.

Case in point — this slow cooker breakfast casserole. The only work involved is browning the chorizo in Step 1. After that, you layer the ingredients a few times, pour a mix of eggs, milk and spices over top, close the lid and let the casserole cook while you sleep. I assembled the casserole before a night out on Saturday, wrapping the top of the slow cooker insert tightly with tin foil and then refrigerating it while I hit the bars on the Lower East Side.

I came home and set the slow cooker to cook (as it turns out, a slow cooker is so easy to use that even six drinks can’t mess you up). When I woke up the next morning, my little apartment was filled with the heavenly aroma of chorizo, melted cheese, hash browns and spicy eggs, the manna of a hungover human (or a group of hungover humans, if you’re hosting brunch).

This is my kind of brunch recipe — it’s filling, it’s flavorful and it requires less effort than putting on clothes and waiting in line at a restaurant. It allows you to enjoy hosting, rather than slaving away at the stove while your guests sip mimosas and reminisce about last night’s adventures. If hosting brunch is always this easy, I may ditch restaurant brunch for good. …

Dark Chocolate Stout Cake with Bourbon Frosting

While a quinoa casserole can certainly lift one out of the winter blahs, we all know what really does the trick: chocolate and booze. While that could be red wine birthday cake (or red wine brownies), it also could be this chocolate stout cake with bourbon frosting. I’m sorry, I meant this epic chocolate stout cake with bourbon frosting, as The Beeroness aptly describes.

Epic is right. There’s beer in the cake batter and bourbon in the frosting, and the alcohol adds flavors that are complex, rich, heavenly … sorry, got a bit lost in my thoughts. I’ve talked about baking with stout beers before, and while they’re good in this Irish porter cake, their deeply toasted malty notes really shine when paired with chocolate. For this cake, I used Allagash Black, a Belgian-style stout with chocolate, coffee and caramel flavors. It adds a subtle bitterness to the cake, one that plays nicely with the espresso powder and super dark chocolate in the batter.

And let’s talk about that chocolate. There’s a lot here–over a pound–and all of it is dark. I used 72% dark chocolate for the cake, and 63% for the frosting, which keeps the cake from become cloyingly sweet. The bourbon and sour cream keep the chocolate buttercream frosting interesting, and I won’t admit how much of it we ate directly from the bowl with a spoon.

I made this chocolate stout cake for my sister’s 25th birthday (apparently, 25th birthdays are a boozy affair) and it’s a great celebration cake. I mean, chocolate, beer, bourbon — how could it not be?

…

Cheesy Southwestern Quinoa Casserole

Ever since I got back from India, I’ve been stuck in sort of a weird funk. After three weeks of adventures in India, it’s back to the same old routine. And now that the holidays are over, I have nothing to look forward to. Besides for the bone-chilling cold, which makes it extra painful to leave my bed every morning. Have I sucked you into my dark cloud of gloom yet?

This ennui has seeped into all aspects of my life. I’m no longer excited by Friends on Netflix. There’s are no enticing classes at the gym. Even a sale at Anthropologie did little to lift me out of my doldrums. The worst has been in the kitchen: I’ve had such little recipe inspiration and a limited desire to cook, and now have ordered dinner so frequently that I’m bored of Seamless as well.

Thankfully, I have friends who are as into food as I am and send me recipes all the time. This one comes courtesy of Abby, who raved about it last week. The original casserole, from Good Housekeeping, plays off the always-winning combo of broccoli and cheese, tossing in quinoa and spinach for a hearty vegetarian skillet that’s quite healthy to boot. Given my new interest in food that’s sneakily good for you but 100% delicious, I was hooked.

But of course I had to change a few things. There was a sale on pretty rainbow-colored peppers at the grocery store, so I went with those over broccoli. And I forgot to buy spinach, so … oops. I also threw in some ground turkey, though in retrospect, I think a can of black beans would be just as delicious and preserve the whole “vegetarian” premise of the dish. And of course I swapped Greek yogurt for sour cream, since I always have one and never have the other.

But the real beauty of this quinoa casserole is that it can be changed up in a million ways. I’ve already envisioned a version similar to my beloved mushroom “risotto”, as well as one that involves Brussels sprouts. The possibilities are actually kind of exciting … could this casserole cure me of my winter blahs? …

Winter Lentil Salad with Tahini-Ginger Dressing

Greetings from 2015! Sorry for my abrupt disappearing act — my last week before leaving for India was a blur of holiday parties and Seamless dinners, which left zero time for cooking (or packing, which eventually proved problematic).

But I’m back! And before I get into my India adventures, let’s talk resolutions. This year, I decided to forego the “lose 10 pounds” mandate that, in previous years, has driven me to weird detox programs and complicated diets and crazy workout schedules at the gym.

Instead, I’m focusing on eating well. That means fruits and vegetables when they’re at their freshest and most delicious (ie. during their growing season). It means eating only the best-quality meat and fish — the wild-caught or pasture-raised or grass-fed good stuff — though it will also mean eating meat or fish less often because hello, limited budget. It also means when I’m craving a burger, going out and getting a really well-made burger, rather than denying myself for days and then binging on lame fast food.

But mostly it means cooking at home, making meals that happen to be healthy and filling but are mostly just delicious. This winter lentil salad fits that bill. On its own, lentils + roasted butternut squash + chickpeas is a pretty solid foundation for success. But the tahini-ginger dressing really makes the whole thing, the creamy tahini balancing the sharp trio of apple cider vinegar, lemon juice and fresh ginger. It’s reminiscent of one of my favorite cold-weather salads, this warm butternut squash number, but the lentils add a bit of bulk, much needed during these cold, cold times. …

Classic Chocolate Chip Cookies

More cookies today. There are 100 million chocolate chip cookie recipes out there. Some have walnuts (or pecans or pistachios), some have oats, some have a mixture of milk and dark chips, some age the dough for 12, 24 or even 36 hours, some have condensed milk, and some have everything under the sun.

But everyone needs a classic chocolate chip cookie recipe. One that can be whipped up in minutes, so that you’re eaten warm, golden, toffee-like cookies less than 30 minutes after the craving strikes. One that requires only one bowl, and the most basic of ingredients. One that focuses solely on the deliciousness of chocolate chips in a simple sugar cookie dough, made ever so slightly toffee-like with the addition of dark brown sugar.

My recipe comes from the box of McCormick’s vanilla extract, because that’s what we made growing up. (No Nestle Toulouse here!) I could tell you that the extra vanilla highlights the caramel undertones of the brown sugar, or that I modified the steps slightly to make the recipe a one-bowl affair, or that they are equally delicious as small puffy rounds (how I like them) or giant face-sized discs. But all you need to know is that they’re perfect with a cold glass of milk, and Santa would appreciate them very much.

Letâ€™s talk cookies. Iâ€™ve got a bunch over here, and all would be perfect for your Christmas cookie baking spree. (Is thatÂ a thing for anyone else? Or just me?) …

Cranberry Bliss Bars (A Starbucks Knockoff)

It’s DECEMBER. All caps for two reasons: 1) Where did this year go? And 2) It’s December!!!! I can listen to Christmas music all day and sip ho cho all night! And put up twinkly lights! And go through multiple sacks of flour and sugar and maybe a pound or two of butter!

I love the holiday season. Everything just seems extra-cheery and happy and cozy–even the extra tourists and packed stores and cold weather can’t get me down during the too-brief time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. It’s probably because I’m in a month-long sugar high, which usually ends with a resounding crash on January 1, causing me to rebound wildly in the opposite, indulgence-eschewing direction. Why mess with tradition?

Speaking of tradition, Starbucks rolls out their cranberry bliss bars around this time every year. I’m not high on most of Starbucks’ baked goods (they’re mostly too sweet and mediocre, and when it comes to empty calories, don’t want no mediocre), but these bars are a must for me each year, as synonymous with the holidays as those ubiquitous red cups. (My PSL, if you will.*)

It’s not surprising that the bars are delicious: the combination of cranberries and orange is always a winner, and cream cheese frosting is good on everything. Even the presence of white chocolate doesn’t deter me from eating these bars by the dozen (see aforementioned sugar daze).

So, per the famous proverb, I decided to teach myself to fish. There are millions of cranberry bliss bars “copycat” recipes on the Interwebs, but I wanted something that really highlighted that cranberry-orange combo. This one, with zest in both the bars and the frosting, definitely does. The bright citrus, tart cranberries and tangy cream cheese frosting balance the cloying white chocolate nicely. They’re wonderful on a cookie plate, or for shipping to loved ones (I’d freeze them in an airtight container for 1-2 days first) or even for sneaking between breakfast, lunch and dinner, as we did this weekend. …

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