Sauerkraut

It's too late to make this sauerkraut for Thanksgiving, but sauerkraut with Thanksgiving dinner is apparently just a Baltimore thing, anyway. If you don't live in Baltimore and have never had sauerkraut as a part of your holiday spread, I would highly recommend that you try it next year--the tartness of the sauerkraut is a pleasing companion to the tart cranberry sauce. I love to take a bite of the stuffing, a bite of the tart sauerkraut, a bite of the turkey, followed by a bite of the tart cranberry sauce--it makes for such a nicely rounded dinner, and helps prevent tastebud fatigue.

While store-bought sauerkraut is vinegary and intense, home-made sauerkraut takes the same fermented, almost pickled cabbage taste, and treats it in a much more delicate, subtle manner, and the sauerkraut becomes almost effervescent. It's like moonshine made in the wilds of the Appalachians versus Baker's or Bookers whiskey. Or like grappa versus Grey Goose. Or like a pie bought at Walmart compared to a homemade pie made with fruits from your own tree...you get my point.

Not only is homemade sauerkraut delicious, it couldn't be simpler--you basically cut up a head of cabbage, toss it with some salt, smoosh it down every once in a while, and set it aside and mostly leave it alone. The most you'll have to do is occasionally scrape some of the scummy stuff off the top of the brine. It doesn't hurt anything, but it can apparently affect the taste of the sauerkraut. That, and you might want to move your setup outside if your house starts to smell like cabbage, especially if your house, like mine, frequently smells of cabbage anyway because your downstairs neighbors like to make their own kimchi. 

Sauerkraut

• 5 pounds cabbage
• 3 tablespoons kosher salt

Note: All of the recipes that I consulted directed that the cabbage be put in a crock (a vessel with a round opening and high, straight sides). I don't have a crock, nor do I know anyone who has such a thing, so I used a bowl. My plate fit snugly over the cabbage, so I figured it would work just fine. Perhaps there's a reason to use a crock, maybe it has something to do with evaporation, but I think you'll be okay if you decide to also go with a glass or ceramic bowl. You can even use a food-grade plastic bucket; just don't use metal, as it's reactive.

Remove any outer damaged or wilted leaves, but do not wash the cabbage--its natural bacteria is what's going to do the fermenting. Cut the head of cabbage into quarters and remove the hearts if you would like to, and thinly slice (or shred in a food processor)-you want the slices to be about the thickness of a nickel, ideally. Place the cabbage in the bowl or crock as you go, and sprinkle each layer with some of the salt. When all of the cabbage is in your bowl or crock, mix it up with your hands, then press down as hard as you can on it--you really want that cabbage smashed in there.

Cover the cabbage with a plate that fits snugly inside of your bowl or crock. Weight it with something heavy and clean, like a boiled rock, a big can of tomatoes, or a pitcher full of water. Cover it all with a dishtowel to prevent bugs and dust from getting in there. Let it sit for an hour and wilt. At the end of the hour, remove your weight and smash the cabbage down some more with your hands.

(This is what my setup looked like.)

Periodically, whenever you think of it, mash the cabbage down some more with your (clean) hands. By the next day, the cabbage should have exuded enough liquid that the cabbage is submerged. If not, dissolve a teaspoon of salt in a cup of water and pour it over the cabbage. Continue to do this until all of the cabbage is covered, and there's a bit of extra water over the top of the cabbage.

As the cabbage goes through its fermentation cycle, some water may evaporate, so you might have to periodically add more water. Also, check it every day or two, and remove the scum that has formed on the top. You won't be able to remove all of it, and that's okay--don't drive yourself crazy. The scum/mold is not harmful, and the cabbage is in an anaerobic environment, so nothing bad should be forming in the brine.

The cabbage will ferment more quickly if it's kept inside, but it can also be kept outside if the temperatures are above freezing. Some people claim that a slower fermentation makes for a tastier sauerkraut. In either case, your sauerkraut will be ready in about 3-6 weeks. Taste it occasionally to see how it's progressing, and when it's reached a stage of tanginess that you like, scoop it out into glass jars (with the brine), and store in the fridge.

Roasted Squash

 

Do you ever go to the grocery store and come home with something, only to later wonder what on Earth you were thinking? I did that the other day--I came home with 2 acorn squash, with no plan in mind, and no way to use them up in the near future.

And then it got to the point where they were staring at me, begging to be used, and threatening to go bad; I had a heavy work week coming up, and knew that the squash had to be cooked on this one particular night if they were ever going to get cooked. However, I had spent a long time on a lasagna, and was therefore not feeling up to an elaborate preparation, so I just cut up the squash, simply seasoned them, and roasted them alongside the lasagna.

I didn't even peel the squash, as I didn't feel that my fingers or my knives could handle it on that particular day. You'll see in the pictures that the acorn squash are cut into crescents with the skin intact. I later simply scooped them out of their skins and ate them with a little bit of agave syrup.

Although I ate the squash straight out of their skins, I also could have removed the skins, made a puree, and eaten the squash that way. I also could have used the puree to stuff some ravioli, or I could have turned the puree into some gnocchi, or I could have mixed the squash puree with some cream and a little bit of sage, and tossed it with some homemade pasta.

Of course, you can mix up the seasonings, or add some lemon juice or nuts to the roasting pan...If you give me some time, I can probably think of a million other ways to use some pureed squash, but I'll spare you the boredom of my 4 a.m. musings.

If you're feeling up to it, you can certainly peel the squash, and I admit that it would be easier to eat that way. You can also use a butternut squash, which is much easier to peel, although that doesn't necessarily mean that it's easy to peel.

You can serve your roasted squash in any of the aforementioned ways, or you can dice it before roasting, and serve it with this cilantro pepita pesto. It sounds like a strange pairing, but trust me--it's delicious. If you come up with any other  interesting uses for roasted squash, feel free to share them in the comments.

Roasted Squash

• 2 acorn squash, or one largeish butternut squash
• 3 pinches cayenne pepper (about 1/8 teaspoon)
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon canola oil
• Optional: 1 tablespoon agave nectar or maple syrup

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
If you're feeling up to it, peel the acorn squash. If not, cut it in half and cut the halves (after seeding the squash) into crescents. Here's a third option: cut the squash in half, remove the seeds, and place the squash, cut sides up, on a roasting pan. Sprinkle with the seasonings, but consider using less, as you'll have less squash surface area.

If you have a butternut squash, you should peel it. A standard vegetable peeler actually works well for this, although it probably shortens the life of the peeler. Remove the seeds from the butternut squash after cutting it in half.

If you've peeled your squash, cut it into 1/2 inch squares. Line a heavy baking sheet with foil, and place the squash on it. Drizzle with the oil, sprinkle with the cayenne, cumin, and salt, and mix well with your hands. Spread the squash out into a single layer and cook for about 35-55 minutes (cooking time will vary based on the size of your pieces and the water content of your particular squash), until the squash is very tender, slightly shriveled, and browned.

Eat plain, with the cilantro pepita pesto, or in any of the other aforementioned ways.

Potato Gratin

Have you ever noticed that a potato gratin and a cured ham make a lovely pairing? I highly recommend that you try it, perhaps for Christmas or another special occasion, or maybe for no occasion at all.

I generally save this dish for special occasions because au gratin potatoes are just too good, not to mention the fact that they're not particularly healthy. I love love love this side dish, and I completely lack self-control when in its presence. Seriously, I can eat 2 pounds of it, easy. 


There are times, though, when you just need to break out the special occasion dishes on a normal day, and we happened upon one of those occasions recently when we came home with a little dry-cured ham.
After some Epicurious-searching, I found what seemed to be the perfect potato gratin recipe for this particular night. It's rich and creamy, but because it contains mostly milk and only a little bit of cream, it's not too heavy or fatty. (We'll save the hard-core gratins for the holidays.) The flavors in this version are simple, but you still get that perfect creamy, nutmeg-y, toasty, potato-ey flavor.

So now that the weather is getting a little bit cooler, and some warming foods are in order, I highly suggest that you try these potatoes, whether it's a special day or just any old day.

Potato Gratin

(From Epicurious)

• 3 pounds russet (Idaho) potatoes of uniform size
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
• 1 medium garlic clove, crushed through a press
• 1 1/2 to 2 cups half-and-half or milk
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• Freshly grated nutmeg to taste
• 4 tablespoons crème fraîche (optional)
• 1/3 to 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

Peel and wash the potatoes and slice them into rounds 1/8 inch thick, using a mandoline, the slicing disk of a food processor, or a sharp knife.

Generously butter a 9 by 12-inch heavy shallow baking dish, preferably earthenware or cast-enamel, or an oval gratin dish of comparable size. (You can also use a 12-inch cast-iron skillet.) Rub the dish with half of the crushed garlic.

In a large saucepan, bring the half-and-half to a simmer with the remaining garlic and season generously with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Arrange the potatoes in one overlapping layer on the bottom of the dish. Season the layer generously with salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Arrange two more layers on top, seasoning each layer liberally. Press the layers down to compact them. Pour in enough half-and-half to come up just a little below the top layer of potatoes. Set the baking dish on a larger baking sheet, cover with foil, and bake until the potatoes feel tender when pierced with a knife, about 1 hour.

Raise the oven temperature to 425°F, remove the foil, and bake until the top begins to brown, about 10 minutes. Pour just enough cream to cover the top, dab it with crème fraîche, if using, and sprinkle evenly with the Parmesan. Bake until the top is brown and bubbly, 15 to 20 minutes more. Remove from the oven and let the potatoes stand for 10 minutes to absorb the cream. Cut into squares and serve.

Thyme-Roasted Sweet Potatoes

I'm never happy about the end of summer, but this year I'm rather looking forward to stews and braises, squash and sweet potatoes. Growing up, I was not a fan of the sweeter tuber, but it's grown on me. Not only is a sweet potato tasty, I learned, but a sweet potato will keep you fuller longer than its white counterpart will, and it has a lower glycemic index.

Health benefits aside, I can see why some people remain less than fond of sweet potatoes, and my theory is that the potato's very sweetness is the problem- a lot of adults just don't want such a sweet side with their entrees.

This preparation, however, nicely dispatches with that complaint. The potato, of course, remains a bit sweet, but the garlic, thyme, and red pepper flakes carry it from the realm of the saccharine to the savory, and it's a very satisfying transformation. Plus, the potatoes get a bit crispy on the outside, while the inside becomes meltingly tender and soft. Just be careful, because the soft, almost creamy centers can also be molten.

So if any of you people out there have friends or family members who claim to not like sweet potatoes, then I encourage you to try this side dish. You just might change their minds.

Thyme-Roasted Sweet Potatoes(From Epicurious)

• 4 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch-thick rounds
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 large garlic cloves, minced
• 1/3 cup fresh thyme leaves, plus 6 thyme sprigs for garnish
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Preheat oven to 450°F. In large mixing bowl, combine all ingredients and toss. Arrange potato slices in single layer on parchment-lined heavyweight rimmed baking sheet or in 13x9-inch baking dish. Place on top rack of oven and roast until tender and slightly browned, about 40 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature, garnished with thyme sprigs.

Broccoli Almondine

I usually like to go to the store, see what kind of produce looks good, and go from there. Some days, though, everything looks wilty, or there's really just nothing to choose from. But usually, there's broccoli. It's like that old dress that's kind of boring, but it's comfortable, and sometimes you just can't come up with anything else to wear.

This old stand-by veggie can be simply steamed and tossed with some salt and pepper, which is what I do when I'm feeling like a fatty, but that sometimes feels like vegetables as punishment. But add some shallots, a little bit of butter, and some sliced almonds, and you have broccoli magic.

Broccoli Almondine

(Serves 2 if you like a lot of veggies)

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 3/4 cup sliced shallots
• 2 crowns of broccoli, about 5 inches each in diameter
• 1/4 cup sliced almonds
• Optional: about a teaspoon lemon juice

Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. When the foaming subsides, add the shallots. Cook the shallots until they are very tender, but not quite caramelized (about 20 minutes).

In the meantime, cut the broccoli into little florets and wash well. If your broccoli crowns came with the stems attached, peel them, then chop them up into similar-sized pieces--they're delicious. Steam the broccoli until it is tender, but still green (not brownish), about 7 minutes.

When the shallots are ready, add the almonds to the skillet and cook until they get just a little bit of color, about 2 minutes. If everything is looking really dry at this point, add more butter. Add the broccoli to the pan, add salt and pepper to taste, and toss to combine. Add the lemon juice if you like.

Note: The broccoli can be steamed a few hours ahead of time, and the shallots can be softened a few hours ahead of time. When you're ready to serve the dish, rewarm the shallots on medium-low heat, increase the heat to medium-high and add the almonds, then add the broccoli and warm through.

Roasted Garlic and Rosemary Potatoes

This is one of our old-school recipes. It was one of our first forays into the world of from scratch, whole foods cooking, and we thought that we were the bomb. In a way I suppose we were, because this recipe is still awesome, 8 years later.

Simple enough to throw together for a weeknight dinner, this dish is also nice enough for company. It's especially delicious served with grilled meats. The potatoes become golden brown and crispy on the outside, with fluffy, soft interiors. The garlic sufficiently perfumes the potatoes, but if you have some hard-core garlic lovers dining with you, encourage them to squish the garlic out of the skins--they'll be left with a delicious roasted garlic paste. Your house will smell delicious after you make this recipe; your breath might be another story.

(Sorry that the pictures are of the uncooked potatoes-there was no more natural light available by the time dinner was ready.)

Roasted Garlic and Rosemary Potatoes

• 1/2 pounds thin-skinned red potatoes
• 1/2 head of garlic, cloves separated but unpeeled
• 4 sprigs rosemary
• 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. 

Cut the potatoes into a 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch dice, and spread on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. (If you don't have parchment, foil will work, but you may have a little bit of sticking.) Drizzle the olive oil over the potatoes, and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. I would suggest starting with 1/2 teaspoon salt and a 1/4 teaspoon pepper. You'll have an opportunity later to taste and adjust for seasoning. Toss well.

Spread the garlic cloves and rosemary springs amongst the potatoes. Cover with foil and seal tightly. Slide into the center of the oven and cook for 25 minutes. After 25 minutes, the dish should be smelling strongly, and when you check the potatoes, they will be soft and easily pierced with a fork. If not, re-cover with foil, and cook for a few more minutes until the aforementioned characteristics are achieved.

Remove the foil and stir the potatoes (a spatula works well). Cook for and additional 15 minutes, stirring every once in a while, until the potatoes are golden brown on the outside and fluffy-soft on the inside. At some point, taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary. 

If you like, remove the garlic and rosemary to serve, or just inform your companions that the garlic cloves are there. Cooking times will vary based on the age and variety of potato, and the size of the dice. These general cooking guidelines work nicely, though.

Creamless Creamed Corn

This just might be the best way I've ever found to eat fresh corn. Corn on the cob is great and all, but it sort of gets stuck in your teeth, and you end up with butter all over your face and the cobs tend to clutter up your plate.

As an alternative, I like the Golden Corn Chowder and the Corn Fritters that we've made this summer, but sometimes you just need some almost-plain corn.

That's where this recipe comes in. If you don't like cream, it's perfect; and if you feel like you just can't make creamed corn without cream, then you just need to give this a chance. Nick used to be in the cream-hating camp, and he was skeptical when told that this was on the menu. As he learned, though, this recipe is heavenly.

The corn  is enriched with a little bit of butter and some thickened corn milk. And because of the corn milk, this corn tastes even corny-er than just plain old corn. It's like corn squared; it's like pure sunshine and summer; it's like the satisfying richness of regular creamed corn without the fat greasy feeling that sometimes follows its consumption.

The basil just adds to that whole sunshine-y summery thing, and like I alluded to before, this version of creamed corn will not put you in a food coma. Food comas are rather undesirable in the summertime, don't you think?

The first time you make this recipe, you might think that it is a bit time consuming. However, this is one of those recipes that as you make it repeatedly, it seems to get easier and easier. But, even if it remains time consuming, I promise it's worth it.

Creamless Creamed Corn

(Adapted from Epicurious

Origninally from Craft)

• 12 ears of fresh corn
• 1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 small yellow onion, peeled and diced
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons finely sliced fresh basil

Shuck half the corn and remove the kernels from the cobs. Place the corn in a blender and discard the cobs and husks. Purée the corn with 1/3 cup water. Press the purée through a fine sieve and reserve.

Transfer the strained corn purée into a double boiler set over barely simmering water. Cook gently, stirring frequently, until the liquid thickens to the consistency of heavy cream, about 20 minutes. Season the purée with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, shuck the remaining corn, cut the kernels from the cobs, and reserve. Melt the butter in a large, high-sided skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and salt and cook until the onion begins to soften, about 10 minutes. Add the reserved corn, salt, and 1/2 cup of water. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the corn is almost tender, about 7 minutes.

Remove the corn and onion mixture from the heat and stir in the corn cream. Add the basil and adjust the seasoning if necessary with salt and pepper.

Tomato Tart

A tomato tart had been on the extended to-do list for quite a while now. It's a common dish in both French and Italian cuisine, and it's great as an appetizer, a snack, part of a light dinner, or as a side.

We had been little piggies all week, so we decided that we needed a light, summery dinner. Our old stand-by Golden Corn Chowder, paired with a tomato tart, fit the bill perfectly. Plus, like I mentioned before, I like to OD on highly seasonal ingredients, and I figured this would help.

We used a very mild goat cheese, but you could use any cheese that melts well, such as comte, haloumi, or even mozzarella.

Tomato Tart

Crust

• 2 tablespoons almonds with skins, toasted and cooled
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• Pinch of fine sea salt
• 1/2 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
• 1 large egg yolk
• 3 1/2 tablespoons fruity olive oil (preferably French)
• About a tablespoon Dijon mustard (optional)

Filling

• 4 ripe tomatoes, sliced about 1/4 inch thick
• 1 1/2 tablespoons freshly chopped herbs (We used summer savory, thyme, and oregano. You could also use marjoram, tarragon, basil, or anything else you feel like throwing in there.)
• 3 ounces mild goat cheese
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 425°F with rack in middle.

Pulse almonds with flour, sugar, and sea salt to a fine powder in a food processor. Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly pea-size) butter lumps.

Add yolk and oil and pulse until just incorporated and a very soft dough has formed. Form into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill until firm, about 30 minutes.

Spread dough evenly over bottom and up side of pan.
Bake shell until golden brown all over, about 13 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool a bit.

When the tart has cooled enough that it's not very hot to the touch, arrange the tomatoes in a spiral. (Optional: first brush the crust with a thin coating of Dijon mustard.) Sprinkle half of the fresh herbs over the tomatoes, and spread chunks of the goat cheese around as well. Sprinkle the rest of the herbs over the tart, and season with salt and pepper.

Drizzle with olive oil, and bake in the center of the oven for about 40 minutes, until the tart dough is golden brown, the tomatoes are tender, and the cheese is browned.

Optional-drizzle with balsamic vinegar to serve.

This tart is good served either warm or at room temperature, but it's best the day it's made.

Mexicanish Stuffed Tomatoes

These tomatoes are a great summer side, and you get your starch and your veggies all in one nice little package. Or, the tomatoes could make a light meal when served with a salad.

We liked ours with skirt steak that had been rubbed with salt, pepper, and a lot of crushed garlic, then grilled.

Mexicanish Stuffed Tomatoes

• 6 medium tomatoes
• 1 cup Arborio rice
• Kernels from 2 ears of corn
• Half of a medium onion
• Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
• 1/8 teaspoon cumin
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 tablespoon fresh, chopped cilantro
• 3/4 cup Monterey Jack cheese, divided

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Slice the tops off of the tomatoes and carefully scoop out the insides, reserving the insides in a large bowl. Lightly salt the insides of the tomatoes and place them upside down on a plate or a layer of paper towels. Leave them like that for 10 minutes.

In the meantime, cook the rice according to package directions. In a large saute pan, cook the corn and onions until the onions are soft, but the corn retains a bit of crunch. Salt to taste.

Add the rice and the corn and onion mixture to the tomatoes in the large bowl. Add cumin, cayenne, lime juice, cilantro, and half a cup of the Monterey Jack cheese. Taste and add more seasonings or lime juice if necessary. 

Spoon the rice mixture into the tomatoes, top with the remaining 1/4 cup cheese, and bake for 25-40 minutes, until the tomatoes are tender and the cheese is browned, but the tomatoes are not yet falling apart.

The Best Green Beans in the WHOLE WORLD (Sort Of)

When we lived in Upstate New York in 2000, there wasn't too much to do. The closest town had one stop sign, and the next closest town had one street light. One thing that was fun to do, though, was go to a restaurant near Woodstock called New World Home Cooking.


This restaurant has the best green beans in the whole wide world, which was part of its overall appeal. They're blackened in a super-flavorful spice mix that's just hot enough to keep you eating more and more and more. The green beans are ordered more often than any other dish the restaurant serves, and we got them every time we went there. We were, in fact, so enamored of these green beans that we used to fantasize about them.


We'd be folding laundry or driving to Deep Creek for a family visit and one of us would say, 'You know what I could go for right now? The Green Beans.'
'Mmmmm....yeah.'


We actually once drove from Baltimore, MD to Woodstock, NY just for these green beans. Well, really it was also to get out of town for a little mental health break, but the green beans were part of the decision-making process.


We dreamed about these tender pods of spiciness for years, and frequently discussed how they must be made. We speculated that they were most likely blackened and that the cooking process most likely resulted in a lot of smoke. We even speculated that maybe they were created accidentally.


All these questions were recently answered when a blogger posted the recipe. It turns out it's been on the restaurant's website for who knows how long, but I swear it wasn't there when I last checked about 3 or 4 years ago.


Really, though, all that mattered was that I now possessed the answers I had been seeking--they aredo create a lot of smoke, and they were created by accident. Best of all, I now knew what was in the spice mix. blackened, they


I was so excited by this discovery that I wanted to call Nick immediately to let him know that we would soon be in possession of these tasty veggies, without having to drive 5 hours for them. It was 4 in the morning, though, so I resisted the urge and instead waited to spring this revelation on my significant other until I got home in the morning.


We finally got around to trying this recipe the other night because it seemed just right with the ribs that were part of our Healthy Week menu. That is a joke, by the way.


So why are they now just 'sort of' the best green beans in the whole world? Well, there are a few reasons. First of all, we never really thought that a home-made version would be as good as the restaurant version. Sadly, restaurant dishes that are recreated at home are rarely as good as the original. These were pretty close though.


The other two problems were the spiciness and the spiciness. Now, we love hot foods, but these little guys were just a little too hot to easily enjoy. The restaurant beans will certainly light a fire in your mouth, but these beans were so spicy that, as Nick said, they'll make you pound your beer in about two minutes flat. We don't really like to play vegetable drinking games, so the recipe below has less Cayenne than the recipe on the website.


And speaking of Cayenne (the second spiciness problem), ours seems to be polluted. We long ago jettisoned the spice jars in favor of a more compact system, so our spices are kept in alphabetical order in plastic bags. For a while now, though, I've been thinking that I wanted to switch to a system of little metal canisters like these ones, primarily because I was afraid that the plastic bags would become permeable and lead to stale spices and/or spice contamination.


I guess I should have gotten on that little project sooner because our green beans tasted overwhelmingly of cloves. This was not a pleasant thing. First of all, you just don't want these green beans to taste like a Christmas dessert. Secondly, the cloves intensified the already too-hot heat of the cayenne.


So, when these beans are properly spiced, they'll compete with our standard roasted green beans (recipe also below) for the title of The Best Green Beans in the Whole World.

Blackened Green Beans

(Adapted from New World Home Cooking's Website)

-2 pounds fresh string beans, stems picked off
-2 tablespoons safflower, sunflower, or corn oil
-1/2 teaspoon cayenne
-4 teaspoons ancho chili powder
-3 teaspoons cornmeal
-1 teaspoon dry oregano
-1 teaspoon dry thyme
-3 teaspoons Kosher salt
-3 teaspoons finely ground black pepper
-1 teaspoon paprika
-1 teaspoon onion powder (not flakes)
-1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder (not granules)


Be sure that your kitchen is properly ventilated before you attempt to blacken any food indoors. Open the windows and doors and disable the smoke detectors. (Don't forget to hook them back up again afterward!)


In a small bowl, fold all the seasonings together thoroughly.
Fill a large pot three-quarters full of water and salt as you would for pasta. Bring to a rolling boil while you preheat a cast-iron skillet or heavy wok until very hot, about ten minutes, over high heat.


Plunge the string beans into the boiling water and cook them for 2 minutes, until they are bright green, tender but still a bit crisp. Drain the beans but do not rinse them, and put them in a work bowl big enough to toss them around. Add the oil and toss to coat them evenly. Sprinkle the seasonings over the beans and toss to coat evenly.


When you are ready to blacken them, dump the beans into the hot skillet. If your skillet is small, this may need to be done in batches. Don't overload the skillet. Using tongs, move the beans around to blacken the seasoning evenly. The idea here is to char the spices, not the beans themselves. 


Serve the beans garnished with lemon wedges, with 1/2 cup of Mustard Remoulade Sauce (see recipe below) for dipping.

Ric's Mustard Remoulade Sauce

-2 tablespoons paprika
-3/4 tablespoons Tabasco sauce
-1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
-1/4 teaspoon celery salt
-1/4 cup Pommerey or grainy mustard
-1/3 cup Dijon mustard
-1/2 teaspoon gumbo file powder
-1/4 teaspoon dried tarragon
-1 teaspoon grated or finely minced onion
-1 teaspoon grated or finely minced scallion
-1 teaspoon grated or finely minced celery
-1 cup safflower, sunflower or other neutral-flavored oil


In a food processor, combine all the ingredients except the oil and process well. Then, with the machine running, add the oil in a steady stream to emulsify.

Roasted Green Beans

We've tried many recipes for green beans, some of which included a lot of fancy ingredients and cooking techniques. We think, though, (and a lot of our friends agree) that these simply roasted green beans win hands-down every time both for ease of preparation and, more importantly--taste.

-2 pounds green beans, tough ends snapped off
-Olive oil
-Salt to taste
-Freshly ground black pepper


Preheat oven to 425°F.
Rinse the beans and dry in a salad spinner and/or on spread out on a roasting pan set on top of the preheating oven.
Toss beans with oil and salt to taste. Roast in a large heavy-bottomed baking pan, stirring occasionally, until spotted here and there with dark brown and thinner beans are crisp, 45 to 55 minutes total (depending on size of beans). Season with salt. Serve immediately.

The Zucchini Obsession, Continued: Zucchini Rice Gratin

So I've previously mentioned that I'm having zucchini issues. I made this recipe because not only did I want to eat some zucchini, but I also needed a way to dispose of the 4 pounds of it that I had inadvertently bought the other day. I know--how do you 'inadvertantly' buy something? In this case, I blame it on my zucchini addiction, but I don't have a good explanation for how I accidentally bought some bacon.


If you, like me, are having a zucchini issue and need a way to disguise it when serving it to your family so that you maybe don't hear, "Zucchini again?" then this might be the dish for you. The zucchini is sufficiently present to satisfy an addiction, but because it's layered with other ingredients, you might be able to pass it by your family without too many complaints.


This recipe was adapted from Epicurious and lightened in the process. It has a small amount of rice, which can be just right when you want a side that will be satisfying but not too heavy. If fact, you could probably even make this dish as a light meal. With the tomatoes, zucchini and fresh herbs, it has some of the best flavors of summer all rolled into one.

Zucchini Rice Gratin

(Adapted from Epicurious)

-1/2 cup rice (white or brown, your choice)
-3 pounds zucchini (about 6 medium), sliced crosswise 1/4 inch thick
-Olive oil
-1/2 pounds plum tomatoes, sliced crosswise 1/4 inch thick
-1 medium onion, diced
-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
-1 large egg, lightly beaten
-1 teaspoon chopped thyme
-1 teaspoon chopped fresh oregano
-1 tablespoon chiffonade of fresh basil
-1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
-Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F with racks in upper and lower thirds.
Cook rice according to package instructions

While rice cooks, toss zucchini with 1 tablespoon oil and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a foil-lined, shallow baking pan. Toss tomatoes with 1/2 tablespoon oil and 1/4 teaspoon salt in another foil-lined baking pan.
Roast zucchini and tomatoes in the oven, turning vegetables once halfway through roasting, until tender and light golden, about 10 minutes for tomatoes; 20 minutes for zucchini. Leave oven on. 

Meanwhile, cook onion and garlic with 1/2 teaspoon salt in 1 tablespoon oil in a large heavy skillet, over low heat, stirring occasionally, until very tender, 15 to 20 minutes.

Stir together onion mixture, cooked rice, eggs, thyme, oregano, cheese, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Spread the rice mixture in a shallow 2-quart baking dish, then top with the tomatoes. Top with the zucchini. Sprinkle the top with the basil.

Bake in upper third of oven until set and golden brown, about 20 minutes.

A Summer Obsession: Zucchini Feta Fritters

(The first flower of the year--an anemone)

Last year, this was an oft-repeated conversation around our place:

Nick: So what are we having for dinner?
Me: Uuuuummmmm...I kinda sorta wanted to make some zucchini patties.
Nick: (Eyes widening in disbelief) Seriously? Really? Again?
Me: Yeah, sorry. I can make another side for you.
Nick: Um, that might be a good idea.

I had thought that last year's hard-core addiction to these zucchini fritters would have cured me of my never-ending lust for their vegetable-y, cheesy goodness. But it didn't. When I told Nick the other day that I wanted to make them just once in honor of the start of summer, this pronouncement again had the Eye-Widening Effect. "Is this going to be a problem?" he asked.

"I don't think so," I said, "I think I can make them just this once and be okay."

Five batches later, Nick is again begging for mercy and I'm considering zucchini rehab.


I think you should try these fritters, although Nick might beg to differ. Their herby, zucchini-y lightness is perfectly countered by the saltiness of the feta cheese. They're not too heavy to make an enjoyable summer treat, but at the same time they're wickedly satisfying in the way patties of pan-seared, shredded vegetables tend to be. These are extremely easy to whip up, and they're delicious hot, at room temperature, and even cold. They're great as sides, appetizers, or snacks. 

Zucchini Feta Fritters

(Adapted from Epicurious)

• 3 cups coarsely grated zucchini (from about 3 medium)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1 large egg
• 1 large egg yolk
• 1/2 cup (or more) all purpose flour
• 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian flat-leaf parsley
• 1/2 cup chopped green onions
• 1 tablespoon chiffonade (cut into ribbons) fresh basil
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 tablespoon canola oil, plus more as needed

Toss zucchini and 1/2 teaspoon salt in large bowl. Let stand 5 minutes. Transfer to sieve. Press out excess liquid; place zucchini in dry bowl.


Mix in egg, yolk, 1/2 cup flour, cheese, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Mix in parsley, onions, and basil. If batter is very wet, add more flour by spoonfuls. However, if liquid is leaking out because the batter has been sitting for a few minutes, do not add more flour. Only add more flour if the homogeneous batter is runny. Season to taste with salt and pepper.


Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 tablespoon canola oil in large skillet over medium heat. Working in batches, drop batter by rounded tablespoonfuls into skillet, and flatten to a 1.4 inch thickness. Fry patties until golden, about 5 minutes per side, adding more canola oil as needed.


These can be made a day ahead of time and rewarmed in a 350 degree oven. They can also be made ahead of time and served room temperature.

Epicurious suggests that these patties be served with plain Greek yogurt, but I find it unnecessary. The last time I made these, I added a couple tablespoons of fresh lemon juice, which was quite nice, but it's optional.