We’re having an unusually dry winter in San Francisco, and although I love the sunny days, I worry about the deepening drought. It affects my cooking, too, since a drier, sunnier winter also means I’m doing less roasting and soup-making. But today was a good, cold, wintery day and it was time to try a new soup recipe, which I’ve adapted from Sunset magazine (an excellent source for creative recipes, by the way). The original recipe is a play on cream of tomato soup, so calls for dry milk powder. I left it out (in deference to my vegan niece), and I can’t say we missed it — the soup is incredibly creamy and delicious. Even said niece (who doesn’t care for onions or red peppers) loved the soup. We served it with a tossed green salad and some crusty bread for a perfect winter supper.
2 T olive oil
2 medium onions, halved and thinly sliced
1/2 t salt
6 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 t paprika (we have some nice smoked paprika, but any will do)
1/2 cup hulled red lentils, picked over (sometimes a pebble or two will sneak in with the lentils) and rinsed
4 large roasted red peppers
1 can (28 oz.) diced tomatoes
about 1 1/3 cups broth or water
1 T red-wine vinegar
1/4 cup sliced almonds, toasted (if you happen to have Marcona almonds, so much the better)
Warm olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add onions and salt and stir to combine. Cover, reduce heat to medium, and cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are very soft, 5 to 10 minutes; reduce heat, if necessary, to keep onions from browning.
Add garlic and cook, uncovered, until soft, about 3 minutes. Stir in paprika and cook another minute. Add lentils, peppers, tomatoes, and broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to maintain a steady simmer, cover, and cook until lentils are extremely soft, about 30 minutes.
Puree soup in a blender in 2-3 batches. Return to the soup pot and add vinegar and salt to taste; add a little more broth if soup seems too thick.
(update 12:14 PM/PST, because I forgot about the zest….)
Some things are born not so much of necessity but of the inspiration from what you have on hand. I roast a lot on winter weekends: chicken, pot roasts, braised pork butt. I discovered a few years ago that to my very great surprise, I was good at it, and with a little thought and prep time, one could turn out a really great meal that made the house smell terrific and also feed a small army or provide great leftovers for a rushed night later in the week.
Last weekend, I had a chicken to roast, but wanted to do something new. One of the standards, of course, is to stuff the cavity with lemon, then rub the skin with salt and an herb butter, often thyme or rosemary. I’ll often finish with paprika, because it adds great color, and a squeeze of lemon juice for extra browning. Good, right? But something was restless in my culinary subconscious, and while we have abundant lemons on our tree right now, it was our bountiful orange tree, right outside our door that called to me. I decided, I would substitute citrus and herb and mix it up (exciting, huh?) and make an Orange Oregano Roast Chicken, because that’s what we had growing in our garden.
It was easily and by far the best chicken I’ve ever made. Even I was surprised by the result of my experiment. And while roast chicken is not fancy, it can be a perfect and really delicious family meal. And if you want to do a themed, seasonal, citrus meal, you can try the blood orange tart posted over on Smitten Kitchen.
If you do eat chicken, please make sure to buy a chicken that is organic, free range, and comes from a farm where you know exactly what the conditions are for the birds. If you’re not careful about how you source your chicken, you really do run the risk of supporting a farm that does unspeakable things to birds.
Here’s what I did for a 4.25 lb chicken:
I had Kory bring me 2 large oranges while I cut a few long sprigs of oregano from our bush.
I cut one orange into 8 pieces. I zested the other.
I cut 1/2 a red onion into 4 small pieces (the better to wedge them into the chicken cavity).
I generously salted the chicken’s cavity.
I stuffed the cavity with several pieces of orange and the red onion, and several long sprigs of oregano.
I carefully slipped my hand under the skin of the chicken and separated the skin from the meat with my hand. This is not hard to do, and is a technique we often use with turky. I rubbed several tablespoons of softened butter (yes, it’s a lot of butter), all over the breast, thigh, & leg meat, and then rubbed the orange zest right over that into the butter.
I sprinkled dried oregano (also from our yard) all over the outside of the chicken.
I salted, generously, the skin (on the outside).
I squeezed a generous portion of orange juice from the fresh orange over the skin.
I trussed the chicken. For me, this is essential. I’m sort of neurotic about trussing & it gives me great satisfaction.
I placed around the chicken lots of quartered red and white onions, potatoes, and carrots. These I salted, drizzled with olive oil, and few more squeezes of orange juice.
I roasted at 425 degrees for 20 minutes, then turned the heat down to 375 and roasted for about an hour longer, until the juice from the cavity ran clear.
The chicken was done a little before the vegetables, so I removed it and let them roast a little longer.
Then I poured off the drippings, separated off the fat, and deglazed the roasting pan with a little bit of white wine, added back the drippings, about a 1/4 cup of water, and swirled in about a tablespoon of butter and, presto, a fast, delicious pan sauce.
While you’re carving, if the kids are clamoring treat them (or yourself if there aren’t kids in your house), to the tender nugget of meat on the bottom of the chicken. You can just pop it out of the small cavity with your thumb. The two “oysters” are the best part of the bird, and it was great when we had only one kid top treat and I got to eat the second oyster. Oh well. Motherhood is about sacrifice, right?
But everyone loved the chicken proper, and it made a great pot pie later in the week. Which is a post for another day.
In the spirit of the day, we took a vote on our celebratory Inauguration Day dinner, and sushi won. It’s one of those modular meals that everybody likes because each can tailor it to his or her own taste. Of course in this house, it’s all vegetarian sushi; all I can tell you about the fish is go to the best fish market you can, ask them what’s freshest, and have them cut it for you. The main thing is to make the rice (recipe below) and then slice up and lay out whatever filings you like. It’s not fancy here — cooking with kids is always a bit of an art project — but it’s always tasty.
Here’s what we use:
sheets of roasted seaweed (“sushi-nori”)
1 sweet potato, cut into sticks and roasted with a bit of sesame oil and soy sauce
spinach, cooked, excess water squeezed out, and tossed with a splash of rice vinegar and sprinkled with sesame seeds
1 avocado, sliced
3-4 carrots, cut into matchsticks; raw, steamed, or roasted with the sweet potatoes
1 pound of tofu, sliced and fried
2 eggs, beaten with a little bit of rice wine, cooked into an omelette, and then sliced
cucumber, shitake mushrooms, and any kind of pickled vegetables are also nice if you happen to have them.
To make the rice, first cook 2 cups short grain rice in 3 cups of water. While it’s cooking, combine in a small bowl 6 T rice vinegar, 2 1/2 T sugar, and a pinch of salt. Let the rice cool a bit after it’s cooked, just by spreading it out in a large bowl, then stir in the vinegar mixture. Keep the rice covered with a damp cloth to keep it from drying out while you’re making the sushi (we never have this problem).
It’s helpful (but not essential) to have a bamboo rolling mat; a small kitchen towel will do in a pinch. Lay your sheet of seaweed on the rolling mat or towel. Spread the rice on a sheet of seaweed, leaving a slight border at top and bottom but getting it all the way out to each side. Lay your fillings on top of the rice in a small pile. Roll the seaweed up over the filling, and then continue rolling into a tight cylinder. Slice and eat!
I didn’t take very careful pictures of our process, but here’s how it looks:
Sushi ingredients, plus a banana (I don't recommend banana sushi)Eli demonstrates how not to arrange the fillingsEli likes to make train tracks with his tofu slices; we admire, and then rearrange.Eli likes a super-protein roll of egg & tofuBen's tidy avocado roll in progressA finished roll
This recipe is easily one of my favorite recipes for spaghetti. It’s quick, simple, and can be made with what you likely have in your pantry on any given day of the year. The blend of garlic, anchovies, a good olive oil, and tomato paste creates a rich, garlicky, slightly nutty sauce that slicks the pasta in exactly the right way.
The kids adore it, and you can use it as good, meatless main course any night of the week, no matter how little time you have, or it can be served in small portions as a first course for a dinner party or for more formal family dinner (if you are so lucky as to have those in your house).
I believe I found the original recipe in a magazine many years ago, but it’s been tampered with to suit our family’s preferences. You should tamper, too.
First, mince 1-3 cloves of garlic, depending on your taste, and sautee them in a generous 1/4 cup of olive oil over medium high heat with 2-4 anchovies . If you really hate anchovies, don’t give up on this recipe. They add depth and richness to the sauce. Rather than leave them out, just add one or two. But be sure to use the good ones, packaged in a glass jar, not a tin. The price is worth it.
Serve with fresh grated parmesan, or its more affordable but equally good cousin, Grana Padano, a side of prosciutto, your seasonal produce…
When the anchovies have dissolved and the garlic is slightly golden, add a small can of tomato paste.
Stir to bind up the garlic in the tomato paste (if you don’t it will burn as the sauce cooks), add a bit of salt and a good sprinkling of whatever herb you like or have on hand. We use a lot of fresh, dried oregano, because we have a terrific bush in our backyard. But I’ve used fresh dried rosemary, or fresh basil, parsley–whatever mix or blend or solitary herb you like.
Turn the heat to low, and let the sauce cook, and cook, and cook, for about twenty minutes or so, until the raw paste has cooked through and the whole thing turns into a lovely, pasty mess. There will be some separation of oil and tomato, and the oil will take on a lovely reddish, orange hue. This is good (to eat, but not on your clothes). If it looks too dry, you can add oil along the way.
Toss this sauce over your cooked pasta. This recipe will make enough to dress 1 lb of pasta, but it actually freezes well if you want to use just part of the recipe. I’m a big believer in the right pasta for the sauce, so I wouldn’t use anything other than a good spaghetti for this recipe. Also: don’t use too much. The sauce should just bind, not soak, the spaghetti.
Serve with a grating of parmesan or its more affordable, but equally good cousin, Grana Padano, a side of prosciutto, your seasonal greens…
Confession: I’m a little crazy when it comes to cooking, even on weeknights, and sometimes I do things that are more involved than I have time for. But I also like to keep things around that are delicious, and which I can just pull from the refrigerator on a moments notice, which can turn a meal from a run of the mill affair to something seasonal and inviting. Because we depend on farmers and seasonal produce, simple things can be special because we don’t eat everything all year round. Ella and Finn know when it’s apple season, or crab season, and that when holidays and parties roll around, they get pate.
One of the things I love to keep around during the week is roasted peppers, another is fegatini (which I’ll write about soon), and another is steamed artichokes.
For most of the country, artichokes in January are just not available unless they come from far away, but some showed up recently in our market, including really ugly, blemished ones that are called “frost-kissed.” I think they’re not quite as good as the ones we’ll get later in the spring, but the inner leaves are tender and sweet and the hearts are excellent.
I have a large, three-tired steamer, which is bulky but very, very handy. I trimmed the stems and peeled off the bitter outer leaves, then threw the artichokes in the bottom tier and steamed until they were tender–about an hour for the large ones, 30 minutes for the mini-sized.
I mixed up a batch of faux aioli, which is another Thing That Keeps, at least for a couple of days, and which we also use on crabcakes. While the artichokes take some time on day 1, I had several left over, which I tossed in the refrigerator, and was able to bring out another day. Instant vegetable.
So, my point is not so much about artichokes, or peppers, exactly but about planning. My roast chicken, for instance, with the help of Trader Joe’s excellent-in-a-pinch premade pie crust, makes a speedy and delicious chicken pot pie. I very often will roast several bunches of beets on market day, dress them simply in olive oil, then have them all week. We can add vinegar, arugula, goat cheese. Etc.
What kinds of things do you prep ahead and keep for those days when you need a quick snack or on those nights when you need something fast to round out your table, when the kids have had enough of their Webkinz, or soccer ran too late, and they’re clamoring for, you know, something to actually sustain them?
Faux Aioli
In a mortar and pestle, grind 1-2 cloves of garlic (to your taste) with coarse salt (sea, kosher, hawaiian red…).
Add the juice of about 1/2 a lemon or meyer lemon, continue grinding until you have a thin, smooth paste.
Add maybe 1/2 -3/4 cup mayonnaise, mix to blend. Taste, correct seasonings.
