Ranch Dressing

I love ranch dressing. LOVE it. Specifically the super-processed Hidden Valley kind. And of course, it's terrible for you. I guess ranch dressing encourages me to eat more vegetables, but otherwise there's nothing outside of the (heavenly, addictive) taste to recommend it. I've tried "natural" versions, which have all sucked, and recipes that say things like "this is how ranch dressing is supposed to taste!" in the header and then taste nothing like Hidden Valley, which is EXACTLY how ranch is supposed to taste.

However, I've found a pretty good homemade version from a highly unlikely source: vegans. This recipe is from Salad Samurai, and it's genius: the miso supplies some funk and umami, while the garlic powder and herbs give it that ranch-y flavor base. And the cashew base makes the dressing creamy without being too thick, which can happen with mayo or yogurt.

I didn't have onion powder, so I just grated in a tablespoon or so of fresh onion, and used basil, oregano, and thyme, because those are the plants I have in my kitchen. I bet dill would be even better.

Back At The Ranch Dressing
From Salad Samurai by Terry Hope Romero

½ cup unroasted cashews
¾ cup hot water
2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, peeled
2 tsp white (shiro) miso
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
3 tbsp chopped fresh herbs, such as dill, basil, or tarragon

Soak the cashews in the hot water for a half hour and then blend together until very smooth (you can skip the soaking step if you have a Vitamix). Blend in everything else. Let sit at least twenty minutes. Boom.

Solids!

I made a bunch of baby food for the freezer today, since we're just starting Henry on solid foods and I go back to work on Wednesday (la la la, fingers in ears, la la la).

It's really easy. Step one: place baby in jumperoo.

Isn't this thing hideous? I knew he would love it. 

Then you cut up some organic vegetables, unless you are a monster, in which case you can cut up conventional vegetables, and steam them in the microwave until fork-tender.

Then you puree the bejesus out of the steamed veggies and spoon them into ice cube trays.

Once the veggies are frozen, pop them out of the trays and into freezer bags. That's it. I didn't even mess up the kitchen, which felt weird.

As for actually feeding the baby these things, that's up to you. Henry was a lot more interested in chewing on the spoon, but I think he'll get the hang of it.

Weekend Happenings

On Friday, I was confidently bounding across the street in the midst of an icy rainstorm when my feet went out from under me, and I landed flat on my back. OW. I went home, changed, put on my they-might-as-well-have-suction-cups-on-the-soles rain boots, gingerly picked my way to the subway, stopped, and asked out loud, "What am I doing?" My neck was already starting to hurt. I'd hit my head. I went home and spent the rest of the day lying on the couch with a heating pad, watching the entire first season of Lost Girl on Netflix, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and the movie Side Effects, which I did not.

On Saturday, I rallied enough to make it to Lyndhurst, New Jersey, to fulfill a childhood dream.

MEDIEVAL TIMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT WAS EVERYTHING I WANTED IT TO BE AND MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (By "more," I mean there was beer). Sadly, our hero the Green Knight was eliminated almost instantly. Our realm still feels the shame.

On Sunday, Dan and I took it easy to recuperate from all the excitement.

At some point, I made this thing:

It's a whole head of cauliflower simmered in broth, and then roasted. It get a little crunch on the outside with a subtle flavor from the simmer. You're supposed to serve it with whipped goat cheese, but I just mixed some mayo with minced garlic and a pinch of paprika for a cheat's aioli. It was really good! I don't repeat recipes very often, but I have to remember to make this one again - it would be a great dinner party dish, because it's visually very cool, especially if you present it whole at the table.

That was the weekend. My back and neck are still unfortunately hella sore, but that's life. Be careful in the ice-rain.

NYE2014

It's very important to drink good champagne while making a New Year's dinner.

We were going to celebrate 2014 in Hoboken, but as snow began to fall, it began to sink in that crossing the Hudson after midnight takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r and we definitely wouldn't be able to find a cab once we got off the PATH. Plus we were a bit wiped from our trip to Chicago. So we stayed home.

I got out of work early and spent a small fortune at Eataly on wild-caught fish and chanterelle mushrooms. After a small, virtuous salad, we dug into some indulgences.

Fettucine with truffle butter and wild mushrooms:

Red snapper with lemon butter and baby potatoes:

(This was really good. The last time I made fish at home it was Spanish mackerel, and as much as I wanted to enjoy such a cheap, healthy, sustainable fish, I gagged and spat it out. It's good for sushi, though). 

Then I made molten chocolate cakes, but it turns out that you CANNOT substitute a cupcake tin for individual ramekins, as the Internet may have you believe. They completely fell apart. So, here's a picture from the cookbook:

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. I mean, they tasted good.

Then Dan tried to put Carla in a box for our entertainment, which she really enjoyed. 

Happy New Year!

This Is A Pizza

Before Panicky moved to Ohio, she worked in food PR, which means I got a lot of free cookbooks. One, This is a Cookbook, has found its way into a permanent spot on the kitchen shelf, mostly because of pizza. Max and Eli Sussman, one of whom worked at the great Bushwick restaurant Roberta's, inspired me to finally, finally make pizza at home, and it turns out that it's really easy. Mindlessly easy. Pizza has become a fallback dinner, when we don't have enough of anything else in the house except flour (like, one time we used Polly-O string cheese as a topping). Last night's version, with an improved topping of fresh ricotta, was subpar - the crust never got crispy - yet, was still quite good. Try it, people, do not be like me and assume homemade pizza is hard!

Slick of tomato sauce + turkey sausage + ricotta + kale + spicy honey = too many toppings = vaguely cooked crust

(Alternatively, the pizza place down the street has never disappointed, except when briefly closed by the Department of Health).

Pizza Dough
Combine a cup of warm water, a teaspoon of sugar, and a packet of instant yeast in a mixing bowl. Let sit for 5 minutes. Add 3 cups of flour and a tablespoon of salt. Attach the dough hook to your stand mixer and let it run on medium-low for ten minutes. No stand mixer? Order delivery, sorry. I mean, knead it by hand until it feels like dough, about ten minutes (I'd order delivery). Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let sit out for two hours (it can rise in 30 minutes if your apartment is particularly warm, but two hours does the trick for me), or, if you thought ahead, for 8-24 hours in the fridge.

The Pizza Itself
Preheat the oven to 450. Oil a baking sheet and stretch about half the dough (I freeze the rest; it defrosts in 30 seconds in the microwave) over it. Get it nice and thin. Top with the dregs of a jar of sauce, cheese, bits of meat and veg, whatever you have lying around. Pop it in the oven for ten minutes - more if needed - and you're done. That's it! That's really it!

A Post That Was Going To Be About Ginger Tea But Instead Turned Into A Weird Navel-Gazing Ramble About My Cookbooks

I tend to dive into cookbooks, proclaim their life-changing values to anyone who'll listen, and then move on, leaving a trail of specially purchased pantry items in my wake. See: Harumi's Japanese Cooking (packets of kombu seaweed and dried bonito flakes), Super Natural Every Day (garbanzo flour), that dan dan mein phase (a one-pound bag of Sichuan peppercorns that I should have returned as they have no flavor), Momofuku Milk (milk powder, gelatin packets, citric acid, pistachio paste, Ovaltine, strips of clear acetate, a six-inch cake ring... thank God I didn't buy the bucket of recommend glucose syrup). When I fall for a cookbook, I fall hard, and then, just as suddenly, I'm be done. I'm one of those caddish serial monogamists that cookbooks' mothers warn them to stay away from.

I don't regret any of this, though, because even if I only take away one "yup, I'll make this forever" recipe from a book, that recipe will make mine and Dan's lives better until we die. I.e. the only thing I currently use Harumi's book for is the miso soup with sesame paste, but that soup is so rich and satisfying that it's worth the purchase. I made the pistachio cake from Milk for Mom and Scott's 25th anniversary, and it was outstanding - but it would have been way too intimidating to make on a whim if I hadn't made like 12 other recipes from that insanely complicated cookbook last year (and I wouldn't have known that it's ok to cut out about 1/3 of the steps).

Anyway, I started the phase-out process with It's All Good last month, moving it from the counter - where only one book lives at a time - to the kitchen rack, which houses 5 or 6. It displaced Sydney Food*, which moved to the living room, joining fellow exiles The Perfect Scoop, How to Cook Everything, I Like You**, The Essential New York Times Cookbook, and like 15 other books I haven't cracked in a year. But then I got sick, so I consulted dear Gwyneth's book again, and now it's back on the counter because of her ginger tea.

It's nothing revolutionary: grated ginger plus honey and lemon, steeped in water. But it's been one of the few things to help with my nice end-of-summer grossness. I brew it in a French-press-your-coffee-on-the-go traveler and keep it in the fridge. Sometimes it's the little things that keep you current.

-------------------------------

*I love, love, love Sydney Food, by Bill Granger. It's one of the first cookbooks I ever bought, back in 2003, because I loved the food at Bills restaurant in Sydney so much. The coconut bread and ricotta hotcakes are happiness in a mixing bowl.

Li'l Smoky via

**Conversely, I wasn't crazy about Amy Sedaris's I Like You. It has a granny aesthetic that makes its pages smell of phantom mustiness. However, I made its Li'l Smoky Cheese Ball for our Christmas party, and it was a MASSIVE, GARGANTUAN hit. Live it, learn it, and never make another hors d'oeuvres for your party again.

2 cups shredded smoked Gouda cheese, room temperature
2 packages (8 ounces each) cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 tablespoons milk
2 teaspoons steak sauce
1 cup toasted chopped walnuts or pecans
Ritz crackers, for serving

Place Gouda, cream cheese, butter, milk and steak sauce in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment and mix until well combined. Transfer mixture to refrigerator and let chill overnight. Roll cheese mixture into a ball. Place nuts in a shallow dish. Roll cheese in nuts to fully coat. Serve with Ritz crackers (NO SUBSTITUTIONS).

Win Some...

Sometimes you make perfect pickles on the first try...

...and sometimes you ignore the fact that you need to set a timer for apricot jam.

Life Certainties

Death
Taxes
That I would eventually ferment my own pickles

(G)oops

Wait, you thought I wasn't going to buy Gwyneth Paltrow's cookbook?

As you know, I have a love/hate relationship with GP and her lifestyle blog/newsletter, in which she recommends wearing a $455 Isabel Marant blazer to the beach. Such is advice from a woman who hasn't paid for clothing since 1996. But after reading this hilarious review, I had to try the cookbook out. Would I, like the reviewer, discover an affinity for raw honey and almonds soaked in water? Would I start speaking to Gwyneth in the kitchen as I cooked?

Kind of.

Below is Sunday's dinner: local cod cooked en papillote with "Lee's Hoisin Sauce," fava beans, and "Carrots with Black Sesame and Ginger," or rather "Regular Sesame" because who the F keeps black sesame seeds around -

This dinner was amazing. When he was done, Dan literally picked up his plate and started licking it. "This is so good!" he said. "This is as good as anything as you could get in a restaurant."

The next day, I had leftover sesame carrots with "Perfectly Cooked Quinoa" that was tasty and filling but not quite perfectly cooked, to be honest, and I forgot that quinoa sticks to your teeth like CRAZY. For dinner, I made a kale salad with "Creamy Parsley Dressing," described by Dan as "such a perfect summer flavor!" Then there was chicken marinated in more of "Lee's Hoisin Sauce" mixed with glop from a can of chipotles that made Dan started crying and and then write a letter to the editor to The Economist about getting our kitchen protected as a heritage landmark through his joyful tears.

So, as long as you remember that Gwyneth is not a nutritionist or doctor and can handle the fact that the book features a lot of striped bass "because it swims in the waters close to Gwyneth's summer home, where we do a lot of cooking," this book could be for you. The recipes are really good! They better be, coming from someone who once wrote that "as a home cook, one of the best things I’ve ever done was to build a wood-burning oven in the back yard."

Funfetti Cheesecake

I thought I was SO clever with my Funfetti cheesecake idea. I volunteered to make some treats for Melanie's baby shower this weekend (Dan's sister is having a baby, FYI), and because she loves birthday cake so much, I thought that bite-sized Funfetti-flavored cheesecakes would be a hit.

"Oh, I'm such an innovator," my inner monologue beamed. "I'll make a batch of Momofuku Milk Bar Birthday Cake Crumbs and mix them into a basic cheesecake recipe!"

Then I Googled "Funfetti cheesecake," just for kicks.

I am not the first person to have this idea.

Like, does anyone make non-Funfetti-ed cheesecake? Or cheesecake that is not in miniature?

Whatever. I made 'em anyway. They were a hit.

PSA

I made dandan mein last night following this recipe fairly exactly, and it was so good that I just ordered a pound of Sichuan peppercorns so I can make it a thousand more times.

I didn't take a picture but here's one from the Internet:

via The Noodle Guy

Veggie folks could definitely make it with tofu. Dandan mein, guys. Who knew?

We Need More Omelets

I made an omelet for dinner. There's some spinach and a little cheese in it, and it's totally tasty and satisfying. Why don't I do this more? We all need more omelets in our life.

I use a technique from the second video in this post on Amateur Gourmet. When I make it on the weekends for me and Dan I flip it onto a plate and then slide it back in so it stays pancake-like.

The second part of this blog post is a picture of Bianca staring at some tulips. 

Make a Better Kale Chip

Have you ever bought kale chips at the store? Me neither; a tiny package is like eight bucks! I waste money on lots of stupid shit, but if I went throwing around wads of fives and singles at dehydrated leafy greens every day I wouldn't have anything left over for artisanal cheese and trendy barre-based workout classes.

But it turns out that cutting the stalks out of a big curly bunch of kale takes forever, and then you have wash it thoroughly and spin everything dry. Then you follow one of the eighty thousand kale recipes out there on the internet and open your oven door to discover a baking sheet, dotted with tiny piles of ash. In my last attempt the kale didn't literally puff into cinders but may as well have, judging by the taste.

Gross.

But many attempts later, I think I've found The Kale Chip Way. You hear that, internet? STOP BAKING KALE AT HIGH HEAT FOR TEN MINUTES. THE RESULT IS BARELY EDIBLE. STOP PUBLISHING THESE TERRIBLE RECIPES!!!

How to Make Kale Chips

1. Preheat the oven to 150 degrees. One fifty. That is not a typo. If you have a fancy oven, use the "warm" setting, you lucky king.

2. Wash and (thoroughly) dry a bunch of lacinato kale (any kind will work but lacinato is the most user-friendly), remove the center stalks, and cut into pieces that are somewhat larger than bite size.

3. How many baking trays do you need? Be honest. This isn't the time to cut corners. Use two. Line your two baking sheets with parchment or a silpat and dump a tablespoon or two of oil onto each. Spread half the kale onto each tray and toss them around the oil. Rub the oil into each leaf. Coat thoroughly.

4. Sprinkle with a little salt. If you have parmigiano cheese, use a microplane to grate cheese all over the chips as well. Remember that parmigiano is crazy salty, so don't go nuts with the salt if you do this, or alternatively season them with curry, cumin, paprika, or whatever tickles your fancy. Then pop the trays in the oven and go do something else for an hour. Check them. Have the kale pieces turned into chips? If not, leave them there for another fifteen minutes and keep checking until they're done.

Enjoy with a glass of seltzer and ginger syrup as you work on a Powerpoint presentation on this beautiful spring Sunday.

I Love New York Dinner

I'm about to go out of town for a week and wanted to have a nice meal at home with Dan before I left, so I went to Chelsea Market to pick up ingredients. I stopped by Dickson's Farmstand Meats for an overpriced free-roaming chicken, and then wandered over to Buon Italia, and bought two balls of burrata. I resupplied my stores of ras al hanout and za'atar from a stand in the hallway, and snagged some dill seed and sunchokes at Manhattan Fruit Exchange. I LOVE NEW YORK, GUYS. Where else can you find all that pretentious, semi-obscure shit originally seen on Top Chef within the confines of one city block?

Anyway, this shopping made a great dinner that was very easy to prepare. The hardest part was slicing the beets.

Behold: appetizer of burrata cheese, sliced marinated beets, and crunchy sunchokes:

Oh, and pecans, which I forgot to add before I took the photo. Burrata is mozzarella injected with cream. It's the best cheese there is, and both Dan and I are powerless against it.

But the CHICKEN. Ok. To make the perfect, burnished roast chicken you see below, you spend $17.50 on a three and a half pound chicken from the nice bearded butcher at Dickson's Farmstand Meats.

Then you go home, crank your oven to 400 degrees, rub the whole chicken with salt and pepper and olive oil, stuff some lemon and onion wedges and an uncomfortable amount of salt into the cavity, dump grapeseed oil and the rest of the onion into the pan, plop in the chicken, and roast for twenty minutes. Then you flip the chicken so it's breast side up, and roast for 20ish minutes more. Then you take it out, check the temperature with your meat thermometer, and let it sit for 10-15 minutes while you make a pan sauce, because you'll notice that I cooked it in a PAN.

This was by far the best chicken I've ever made. The skin was crunchy and crackly, the meat perfectly tender and flavorful, and the pan sauce didn't hurt things (pan sauce: pour off most of the fat, add glugs of a flavorful liquid - here, xiao xing rice wine - plus two tablespoons of butter; whisk; decant into a defatter if you have one or a bowl if you don't). I attribute this roast chicken perfection 10% to my cooking skills and 90% to the bird itself, because it was a) fresh, b) fatty, and c) came from an actual farm. I don't know why, but supermarket chickens, even the Bell & Evans ones I usually buy, have no yellow fat, and I'm pretty sure that's what kept the breast meat nice and moist. And because this chicken was super fresh, it didn't have time to sit around in its own juices - when I took it out of the bag, the skin was bone dry, which allowed it to get potato-chip crunchy in the oven.

I will make this again.

Anyway, I'm calling this an "I Love New York Dinner" because it's so... New York. The "oh it's like, local and sustainable and organic" part; the "burrata is available at three stores within a block of my office" part; the "I cooked it in Brooklyn, New York" part. Unfortunately, Chelsea Market, Raffetto's Pasta, and Murray's Cheese are going to be way less convenient in a little over a week, because I got a new job in midtown. My new office is convenient to American Girl Place, the theater that houses Wicked, and Guy's American Kitchen. I'm psyched about the job, even if it wipes out my burrata options. But I'll figure it out. I always do.

Happy Heart Day

My dear friend Kate moved to Ohio recently. I'll be pretending she's on a very long vacation until she comes to her senses and hightails it back. Unfortunately, she already gave up her apartment, "Sheffield," a reasonably-priced, spacious two-bedroom in one of those Park Slope brownstones from the background of Bored to Death. 

Maybe she really did move.

Anyway, I already miss Kate very much, but at least I have a little piece of her on Valentine's Day, because she SENT ME COOKIES!!!!!

Also, I never posted pictures from her going away party. Here they are. 

NBC Page start group!

Food Group, including the Baltimore-dwelling, newly engaged-by-flashmob Hallie F.

Beirut got competitive. Hallie H. trash talks, above. 

Kate & Jenny 4vr

Dan patiently waiting in the corner. 

Salted Caramel Brownies

I was feeling PRODUCTIVE this morning. I woke up early, went for a run, and baked a batch of salted caramel brownies.

I let them cool over the course of the day.

Then I got some good news, and savored it with some oysters and a cocktail at Allswell.

That picture's from last week's Treating Myself, but same deal.

Then I got home and saw the brownie pan. I got the recipe from Deb at Smitten Kitchen, who stamped her brownies into oozing heart shapes, so I figured - in for a penny...

Happy Almost-Valentine's Day! Dan and I are celebrating with tickets to Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, which is very inappropriate.

Dubious Honor