Tea Time With The Edible Word - Creamy Dreamy Raisin Scones

When the Cook the Books hostesses announced a new blog event on the Cook the Books website that involved not only cooking but also reading, I knew that I had to participate. This event, called The Edible Word, is a foodie book club in which you basically read a book and then cook something that is inspired by that book (you have to include a dish or ingredient that is mentioned in the book). The event differs from Cook the Books in that no review is necessary.

For this edition of the event, we read Confections of A Closet Master-Baker, a memoir of sorts that is written by Gesine Bullock-Prado. The sister of, you guessed it, Sandra Bullock. I just have to note that I did NOT figure that one out for a while. My friend Andrew came over, saw the book on my bed, and immediately asked me if the two were related. Once he said that, everything fell into perspective since Gesine does mention that her sister is a famous actress in the book and I had been wondering for at least 100 pages who the sister was but didn't have the motivation to get off my bed and actually google her. Or look at the front cover and read her full name, apparently.

To give you a brief synopsis, the novel is broken down into chapters, each of which consists of a different anecdote or reflection with a recipe to match. Gesine ruminates on various topics such as her whirlwind life in Hollywood, how it spurred her decision to leave that world behind for good in favor of a small town in Vermont, her experience in the small town , the trials and tribulations that came with opening up her own bakery, and how her mother and grandmother have inspired her baking process.

The latter, I believe, are my favorite passages because they are infused with such a wealth of emotion and nostalgia. It never ceases to amaze me how certain smells and tastes can transport you to different times of your life and allow you to revisit memories that you thought were locked away for ever. Everyone remembers and craves the foods that their mom made for them when they were a kid or the dinner that they always had at grandma's house on Sundays. We have certain attachments to the meals from our first dates, what we ate right after our worst break-ups, and the new cuisines that we tried in the exotic lands that we have traveled to. This why the abuse and mass production of food that has occurred through the invention of McDonald's and Sara Lee is so tragic. It has taken the importance of savoring and truly enjoying food out of eating and replaced it with convenience and trans fats. As Gesine writes in her chapter on raspberry meringues, neither she nor anyone who works for her is fat. There are even customers who come by every day and have a treat, but who have lost weight in the process. Her theory on why this is? "They just buy and enjoy their treats thoughtfully...When [people] have the experience of choosing something from a pastry case and knowing that the little tart they're going to take home was baked today, just a few steps form where they're standing, they'll savor that small treat, instead of thoughtlessly devouring the entire contents of an economy-sized Acme brand bag of cookies." Small shops like hers add a personal aspect to eating that allows us to remember why it became a keystone of culture to begin with - not just as a form of nutrition but as a means of connecting with our fellow eaters through a shared act of indulgence.

As a corollary to this, Gesine also writes of the German tradition of having tea at 3 pm every day. This was the "sacred time for cake and coffee", a preplanned period of time in which the family could reconnect and regroup to discuss their hopes, dreams, and memories. A time to "[share] thoughts and stories" or even just "[sit] silently, enjoying each other's company and savoring small cakes, preferably something laced with almond, and a cup of strong coffee". Gesine takes pleasure in knowing that she "[makes] 3 pm happen" for the people who live in her town and now, she can also take pleasure in making in happen for me, my roommate Sophie, and my friend Anu.

Being inspired by the idea of this magical hour of the day in which time was actually set aside to not only enjoy a dessert but to experience it with those you care about, I chose a recipe to make (Gesine's scones), set about making it, and then invited two of my closest friends over for coffee and conversation. We talked, laughed, and reveled in each other's company for a good hour or so. We turned eating scones and sipping coffee into an experience and whenever I smell the buttery scent that lingered in the air that afternoon, I will be taken back to the tiny kitchen table in my tiny apartment on the upper east side and I will smile. Then I will head for the kitchen and turn on the oven because that is what I do when I'm happy or sad or just plain content.
I would include the recipe for these but since I used Gesine's recipe, I am strictly verboten from doing so. I will, however, include a recipe from the Food Network's website that is VERY similar. I would just substitute raisins for currants, since that is what I did with Gesine's recipe anyway.

Cream Scones with Raisins
Serves 8

1 3/4 cups flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
3 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
6 tbsp butter
2 tsp orange zest
1/4 cup raisins
1 egg
5 tbsp heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Add the butter and work it into the flour mixture with your fingers or a pastry blender, until it resembles a coarse meal. Stir in zest and currants.

In a small bowl, beat the egg and 4 tablespoons of the cream together with a fork. Add to the flour mixture and mix with your hands until the dough just comes together. (If the dough seems dry add the extra tablespoon of cream.) Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Pat the dough into a 6-inch round about 1-inch thick. Cut into 8 equal sized wedges. Space the scones evenly on the prepared baking sheet. Bake until golden brown, about 12 to 15 minutes. Serve warm.

Cook's Note: For a richer, darker crust, brush the tops of the scones with heavy cream and sprinkle with sugar before baking.

Check for the round-up and to see what other people made on A Blithe Palate on September 7th.

Eggplant Caponata Over Creamy Polenta

I'm beginning to think that I should rename my blog "Joanne Eats...Whatever is On Sale At Whole Foods". Since that is all I cook. I should also note that whatever is on sale is also almost always locally grown. That helps in my decision-making and menu-planning process. I like supporting local farmers. It makes me feel like I'm fighting the good fight against big business in a very Captain Planet kind of way. So from now on, I'm going to stop writing things like, "I made this and used this because this ingredient was on sale at Whole Foods." You can just assume that to be the case. Unless you see me cooking with fresh figs in the middle of January. In which case you can just assume that I've lost my mind or come into a lot of money and can have them specially imported from some tropical location in the Caribbean. Are figs even grown in the Caribbean? I have no idea.

I always feel bad cooking with eggplant because my roommate, Sophie, can't eat it. She is allergic and it makes her tongue numb. So she'll walk into the room and say, "Something smells really good." Probably with the notion that I'll say, "Hey do you want to taste some?" And I do say that. But then she notices that it has eggplant in it and has to walk away. Sadly. And I have been cooking with it so much lately that she is probably beginning to think that I am categorically including it in recipes so that I don't have to share. And that's really not the case. I SWEAR. It's just that it's so cheap right now and I love it so much that I just can't miss the narrow window of opportunity that is eggplant season at the end of August.

Okay so I saw this recipe for eggplant caponata on Closet Cooking many many months ago. It is based on a Mario Batali recipe that can be found on the Food Network website. I have never had a caponata before this although my parents and I were talking about it once and they said that rumor has it that Italians used to keep caponata for months and months before there were fridges by adding salt to it every few days. So you would make it in August when the eggplants were ripe and then eat it in January when it was cold to remind yourself that there is a light (the sun, for example) at the end of the tunnel. After tasting it though, I don't think I would be able to let it sit around for that long. The intense flavor, especially with the addition of the cinnamon and cocoa powder and balsamic vinegar, was actually addictive. In fact, if you are going to make this you must MUST MUST use good balsamic vinegar. That $2 store brand stuff is just not going to cut it. Sorry.

Although caponata is traditionally served as an appetizer on crostini, you can also turn it into a panini or serve it with pasta. I happened to eat it with a creamy polenta, the simple flavor of which balanced very nicely with the heavily spiced caponata. If you have any eggplants left over from your harvest, this is something I would definitely try making. And for those eggplant-haters out there, I bet it would be great with summer squash as well, which I'm sure is threatening to take over your lives with it's sheer abundance.
Eggplant Caponata Over Creamy Polenta
Serves 4, adapted from Closet Cooking

2 lb eggplant, diced
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion
3 tbsp pine nuts
3 tbsp raisins
1 tsp red pepper flakes
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp thyme
1/4 cup marinara sauce
1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
3 1/2 cups water
1 cup polenta
3 tbsp butter
8 oz neufchatel

For the eggplant:
1. Broil the eggplant in the oven until golden brown, about 7 minutes per side.

2. Heat the oil in a pan. Add the onion, pine nuts, and raisins until the onion is translucent.

3. Add the eggplant, sugar, cinnamon, and cocoa and cook for five minutes. And the thyme, marinara sauce, and balsamic vinegar, and boil. Lower the heat and simmer for five minutes. Serve.

For the polenta:
1. Bring the water (salted) to a boil. Whisk in the polenta. Lower the heat to a simmer, add the butter, and cook according to package directions.

2. Stir in the neufchatel until melted and incorporated and add salt and pepper to taste.

"Grilled" Eggplant Parmesan Sandwiches

We're getting to the point now where things are starting to get overwhelming. Orientation is in full swing here on the Weill Cornell Medical College campus. Our Whitecoat Ceremony was a few days ago, at which we received not only our...you guessed it white coats, but also our first stethoscopes! It's actually beginning to sink in that I won't be heading back to MIT this year and that I may actually be on this campus for the next 7-8 years.

The medical school class arrived on Friday with half of us going camping for a few days and the other half staying in NYC and familiarizing ourselves with the city. I am not really an outdoorsy kind of person, per say (although running outside has made me a bit more tolerant of such things) and the thought of peeing in a bush with people who I'd just met did not sound like the best way to make a good first impression, and so I decided to stay in the city. Since Monday, when the campers got back, we've been going out pretty frequently and trying to bond over anything and everything. We spend our days locked up in Weill Auditorium being orientated and our nights out on the town. One night we went on the Circle Line which is a boat tour around Manhattan, followed by some gin and tonics and $1 beers at a local bar. Then there was some good old-fashioned hanging out followed by some flip cup. And then last night there was, and this is my personal favorite, a trip to Baskin Robbins for some ice cream. We are living it up before classes start on Monday. At which point I am expecting that some kind of switch will go off in the heads of all the really hardcore premeds and they will lock themselves in their rooms with their anatomy textbook. I, not really being "one of those people" will do no such thing. In my opinion, passing is passing (especially since all of our classes are Pass/Fail) and while I will definitely strive to do well (I am after all a Type A person) I have never seen the sense in giving up my own personal happiness for .10 of a point on an exam.
That being said, amidst all of the mayhem, I have been craving simple and easy foods. Sandwiches, for instance, have become a fixation.

And really, at this point in the summer, when eggplants and tomatoes abound, what makes more sense than an eggplant parmesan sandwich? Especially when the eggplant is grilled (or broiled in my case), layered onto some good rosemary focaccia or ciabatta with slices of tomato, sprinkled with a dusting of parmesan cheese, and then popped under the broiler again so that the cheese gets melty and the bread gets crispy? There is very little that could have satisfied me more.

"Grilled" Eggplant Parmesan Sandwiches
Serves 3

1 loaf rosemary focaccia bread, cut into thirds
1 medium eggplant (about a pound)
2 tomatoes, sliced
1/2 cup marinara sauce (I used a jar of the Tomato-basil No Sugar Added sauce from Whole Foods)
6 tbsp parmesan cheese
salt to taste

1. Preheat the broiler to high. Slice the eggplant and place on a greased baking sheet. Spray the eggplant with cooking spray and sprinkle with salt. Broil until soft and beginning to brown, about 7-10 minutes.

2. To assemble the sandwiches, cut the thirds of bread in half so that you have two slices. On each half, put a layer of tomato sauce, a layer of eggplant, a sprinkling of parmesan cheese, a layer of tomatoes, a drizzle of tomato sauce, and a final sprinkling of parmesan cheese. Broil until the cheese has melted, 2-3 minutes.

I am submitting this to Souper Sunday over at Kahakai Kitchen.

As a final note, I thought I would spread the word about some blog events that are going on this month since I really love participating in them and it's always good to know what's out there. Please leave a comment if there are any that you really like to participate in that I don't list. I'm sure there are many that I am not even aware of!

First there are the weekly events - Tyler Florence Fridays, Presto Pasta Nights, Souper Sundays, Blogger Secret Ingredient (the theme for this week is figs) and Weekend Herb Blogging.

Then there are the monthlys - Meeta's Monthly Mingle over at What's For Lunch, Honey (the theme for this month is heirloom recipes), Regional Recipes over at Blazing Hot Wok (the theme for this month is Spanish food), No Croutons Required (September's theme has not been announced yet but will be soon, and Have the Cake (the theme for August is carrot cake).

Finally there is the bimonthly event that I participate in - Cook the Books.

All of these are tons of fun and I hope you participate in some or all of them!

Blueberry Muffin Cake

One of my favorite perks of living in New York? The fruit vendors who are strategically located on every other street corner and who sell fruit at ridiculously low prices. They have everything from figs to lychees to eggplants and while it is not organic and probably not local, I think I can feel good about buying from the average Joe who is fighting to achieve the American dream through produce sales. There are certainly worse causes I could donate my money to. Like Coca Cola, for example.

All of this available fruit has spurred me to want to bake more fruit-filled desserts, especially as I'm not sure whether these low scale venture capitalists will still be around in the winter. Knowing that blueberry season is beginning, I decided to make a blueberry cake as my dessert-of-the-week. Kind-of like a muffin top turned cookie cake, this confection was especially good served with a dollop of whipped cream and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Or you can just dust it with some powdered sugar and serve it for breakfast or brunch instead of dessert. It's good at multi-tasking that way.
Blueberry Muffin Cake
Makes 1 10-inch cake, adapted from Simply Recipes

1 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsp flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
3 oz butter
3 oz unsweetened applesauce
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla
3 eggs
2 cups blueberries
1 1/2 tsp lemon juice

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Grease a 10-inch springform pan.

2. Combine the 1 1/2 cups flour, baking soda, and salt and set aside.

3. In a separate bowl, beat the butter on high for 2 minutes. Add the sugar and vanilla and beat on medium until fluffy. Add in the eggs one at a time and mix until incorporated. Add the applesauce and mix until incorporated. Reduce the speed of the mixer to low and add in the flour a little bit at a time. Pour the mixture into the baking pan.

4. In the same bowl that the flour was in, combine the blueberries, 1 1/2 tsp flour, and lemon juice. Pour over the cake.

5. Bake on a middle rack for 1 hour or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes and then remove to a platter, berry side up.

I am submitting this to Weekend Herb Blogging which is being hosted this week by Rachel of The Crispy Cook.

Greek "Caprese" Pasta Salad

I promise that I do eat things other than pasta. Sometimes. For example, yesterday after my 17.7 mile run I had a bagel smothered in peanut butter. And by smothered I mean doused. Really I should say I ate a bowl of peanut butter with a bagel on the side. And loved every second of it.

But to be fair, pasta really is a major food group for me. This whole carb loading business notwithstanding.

And is there a better way to eat pasta than to share it with those who are nearest and dearest to you? I think not. So when my parents informed me that we were going to visit my aunt in New Jersey yesterday, I decided that it would be a wise choice to bring some pasta salad with me. Since I really loved the fresh tomato sauce from last week's caprese salad, I decided to remake it but with a twist. I Greek-ified it. You see, I had feta cheese on a salad the other day and set myself off on another craving spree. I think everyone felt the same way because I left with two pounds worth of pasta salad and came home with an empty bowl.

I am submitting this both to Presto Pasta Nights which is being hosted this week by Helen of Fuss Free Flavors and Souper Sundays which is hosted by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen.
Greek "Caprese" Pasta Salad
Serves 4 as a main dish, 8 as a side

1 lb whole wheat elbows
1 can black olives, chopped
4 oz crumbled feta cheese
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 lb tomatoes, diced
3 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper

1. Set up water to boil the pasta. In a large, nonstick skillet, heat the olive oil. Add in the garlic and saute until fragrant.

2. Add the tomatoes, salt and pepper. Simmer until the tomatoes have cooked down a bit and have a more sauce-like quality (while still being chunky).

3. Cook and drain the pasta, reserving 1/2 cup cooking liquid. Mix the tomatoes with the olives and the pasta. Pour in the cooking water until pasta is not dry. Mix in the feta cheese and let cool to room temperature.

Tunisian Chicken with Raisins and Lemon

Frank Bruni, a new food columnist over at the NYTimes, wrote a piece on Wednesday about the strange mannerisms and idiosyncrasies his friends take on when invited to eat with him at a restaurant review. People become very protective over whatever dish they are instructed to order, wanting only to have ownership over the more elegant or pricy dishes (steak is always a hot item) and scorning simpler fare like the pasta or vegetarian entrees. Never mind the fact that no matter what they order, they will only be eating a quarter of it and will also have to eat a quarter of everyone else's. (It is a very communist system that Bruni has in place where everyone is created equal and no patron is left behind.) What makes this even more amusing is that no matter what dish a person ends up being paired with, he becomes very protective of it and will argue tooth and nail that it is superior to every other. People are strange, is what Bruni concludes, and somehow inevitably see the dish that is set before them as an extension of themselves, hence the desire to not only order the heftiest dish but then to convince everyone else of it's decadence before the night is through. As if that will give them some kind of acclaim.

This all got me thinking about my own meals and whether or not I feel the same way about the food that I produce. Take this Tunisian chicken with raisins and lemon, for example. I had bought extra chicken, so I invited my friend Anu to come over and eat with me. Having never made the recipe before, I was a little nervous, but I knew that she would be forgiving if it didn't quite turn out. Okay. Fine.

Observation one. Anu comes over after a day at the lab, sets her backpack down by the table and joins me at the stove, asking me what I'm cooking. I point out the recipe in the Bon Appetit cookbook and she becomes very impressed by the word Tunisian in the name, immediately jumping to the conclusion that the dish will be a complicated and other-worldly masterpiece. Tunisian food somehow calls to mind images of the exotic, strange and unusual. I mean, let's be real, who has ever actually had authentic Tunisian food before? "This is going to be intense," she says confidently, in a way that suggests that she feels very proud to be the recipient of such a feast. As if my choosing to invite her over for this specific meal is somehow a commentary on my end about her adventurousness as an eater. (She is a very adventurous eater, which is one of the many reasons why adore her, but that's not quite the point.) The ironic part of all of this is that the recipe actually only calls for about 5 real ingredients (all of which are common pantry items) and one spice (turmeric). Not exactly intense. Probably not authentic either, but like I said, we wouldn't know the difference.

Observation two. At the dinner table. After the cooking we pour ourselves a glass of wine and sit down to eat. Anu waits patiently while I photograph the food, offering up her plate as the more aesthetically pleasing of the two. And then we eat. I start ponderously, thoughtfully, thinking with every bite about how I feel about the dish. She begins raving with the first bite, "Oh my gosh, this is so good. I am amazed." Now this is music to every chef's ears, but it also fits all too well with Bruni's theory. Perhaps she feels that because the meal was cooked for her, it is her dish and thus she must wax poetic about its qualities for fear that if I disregard it as being somewhat pedantic, I will do the same to her as well.

In reality, the dish was good, not great. It featured a good, simple combination of flavors that went well together but was really not something to write home about. I kind of wish the sweetness of the raisins had gotten infused in the sauce more so that you really got that sweet and sour quality when it mixed with the lemons. What it was good for was a study on human behavior and a reminder of how important food is within the context of our social interactions. It influences us in ways that we cannot even realize and somehow manages to delve deep into our subconscious.

The moral - be careful what you cook and who you cook it for. It may have a far great impact than you know.

Tunisian Chicken with Raisins and Lemons
Serves 4, adapted from Bon Appetit's Fast/Easy/Fresh

1 1/2 lb chicken thighs
2 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 lb russet potato, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 tsp turmeric
1 lemon, peeled and sliced very thinly
1/2 cup raisins
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 lb zucchini, sliced and diced (I added this since it was local and on sale at Whole Foods)

Arrange chicken in a single layer in a heavy pot. Drizzle oil over it. Tuck the potatoes in-between the chicken. Sprinkle with garlic and turmeric, then salt and pepper. Lay lemon slices over it. Sprinkle with raisins. Pour enough broth over it just to cover it. Bring to a boil. Cover and boil for 10 minutes. Uncover, add the zucchini on top, reduce heat to medium and simmer until chicken is just cooked and potatoes are tender, around 20 minutes. Remove the chicken, potatoes, and zucchini to a platter. Tent with foil to keep warm. Add lemon juice to the pot and boil until the cooking liquid has reduced by half and thickened, about 7 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Pour over chicken and serve.

Carrot Cupcakes with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

One of the benefits that comes along with learning to cook and/or bake is that you never have to buy presents for anyone ever again. Instead, you can just cook them their favorite meal or bake them their favorite treat. And usually, if the person is worth the sweat and toil, they will offer to share their present with you. This, my friends, is a true exemplification of the gift that keeps on giving.

It was my friend Anu's birthday this past Saturday and when I asked her what she wanted she promptly responded, "Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting." A girl after my own heart. Can you see why we are such good friends?

As fun as carrot cake is to make, I decided to go with cupcakes instead. My roommates and I were hosting a room party the night of Anu's birthday (actually we were the first stop on a room crawl - kind of like a pub crawl but with rooms in our apartment building) and it is much easier to serve cupcakes to large amounts of people than it is to serve cake. More of a self-contained chaos kind of deal.

So I spent Friday night grating 3 cups of carrots by hand and developing carpal tunnel syndrome and Saturday afternoon teaching myself how to pipe frosting out of a ziploc bag. In the end, though, it was all worth it because Anu almost fainted from happiness when she bit into the first one, proclaiming them the best carrot cupcakes she has ever eaten. I maintain that anything tastes good when you smother it with cream cheese frosting, but she's right. The cupcakes were pretty damn good.

I am submitting these carrot-filled babies to this week's Weekend Herb Blogging which is being hosted this week by Prof. Kitty of The Cabinet of Prof. Kitty.
Carrot Cupcakes with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting
Serves 24, adapted from Smitten Kitchen

2 cups AP flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1 tsp ground ginger
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup canola oil
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
4 large eggs
3 cups grated carrots
1 lb neufchatel or regular cream cheese
1/2 cup butter
1 1/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1/4 cup maple syrup

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Line 2 cupcake tins with cupcake liners or grease the tins.

2. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg in a large bowl. Whisk the sugar and oil and applesauce in a second bowl until well-blended. Whisk in the eggs one at a time. Mix the flour mixture into the wet mixture. Stir in the carrots.

3. Divide batter among cupcake molds. Bake for 14-18 minutes (longer for me - about 20-25 minutes) or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Let cool completely before icing.

4. In a stand mixer, beat together the cream cheese, butter, confectioner's sugar, and maple syrup. Chill for at least 20 minutes and then pipe or spread onto the cupcakes.

NOTE - I like my cream cheese frosting to have a little bit of tang to it, which is why there isn't that much confectioner's sugar in it. Some people like a sweeter frosting and I have seen recipes that call for a whole box of confectioner's sugar. Add it based on your own taste.

Caprese Pasta Salad

For most people, summer food means one thing - lots of barbecue. And while I like a good hamburger every once in a while, they are not the food that I dream about during the middle of February while I am walking down the street in knee-high snow, chilled to the bone and imagining how much better life would be if it could be June year-round.

Instead, I am taken back to an appetizer that my mother used to make for us on most summer nights. She would cut small slices of Italian bread (crostini-sized), top them with fresh mozzarella slices, tomato and/or store-bought bruschetta, and basil and then decorate them with a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Sometimes if we were lucky and the bread was a day old, they would go into the oven where the cheese would melt and bubble and brown, making for a truly delicious mouthful.

For me, then, no summer would be complete without a caprese dish of some kind or another and so when I saw that tomatoes, basil, and fresh mozzarella were not only on sale this week at Whole Foods but were also locally grown and produced - I knew it was time. Although it would have been nice to do a traditional "mom-style" dish of little appetizer sandwiches, I am in carb-loading mode and so making a pasta dish was much more imperative. This recipe comes from Giada DeLaurentis and uses fresh tomatoes to make a heavenly sauce that is dotted with pillows of mozzarella and flecks of basil. I think you should know that if I could, I would eat this every day for the rest of my life. It was that good. It also fueled me really well for the 16 miles I ran yesterday, as well as made for some really good drunken midnight fridge raiding done by my friend Andrew who dug in with a fork straight from the tupperware. The only thing that could lure him away was a carrot cupcake. But that's another post for another day.

I am submitting this to Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted this week by Katie of One Little Corner of the World.


Caprese Pasta Salad
Serves 4, adapted from Giada De Laurentis

1 lb whole wheat pasta
2 very large tomatoes (about 2 lb), cut into small pieces
8 oz fresh mozzarella (I used ciliegine balls that I then cut into sixths)
3 tbsp olive oil
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup basil, torn
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper

1. Start the water for the pasta. When it boils, cook the pasta and drain, reserving 1/2 cup of the pasta water.

2. In a large non-stick skillet, heat the olive oil. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes, salt, and pepper and cook until they break down into a sauce-like consistency. You should probably mash some with a fork.

3. Mix the pasta with the tomato sauce. Toss in the mozzarella and basil. Pour in the reserved pasta water 1/4 cup at a time until pasta is not dry.

Red Curry-Roasted Salmon with a Pepper and Snow Pea Salad on Buttered Lime Rice

The movie Julie And Julia, though I haven't seen it, has got me thinking about challenges, specifically those that involve food and cooking and the blog. If I had more time, I would love to do something like take a master chef and cook through all of their recipes. The thing about that, though, is that it would be structured and there would be no leeway in the process (but maybe that is part of what I like about it?). Surely, I would get tired of eating one person's cuisine for an entire year! Especially if their food was so centered around one genre, as Julia Child's was. Midway through the challenge, I would definitely be craving things like pasta and coconut milk; it just wouldn't work out.

This week, one of my friends invited me to go with him and some friends to Crash Mansion, a bar/club in the Bowery, where all sorts of world records that revolve around food were going to be set. Now that the Guinness Book of World Records is going to be published almost solely on-line (what isn't these days?) many places around the country are having these events where you can create and set your own world record. The real hook, line, and sinker of the deal - what truly reeled me in - was the record that we were going to set - most PB+J sandwiches made in one minute. I have a feeling I stopped listening at the phrase "peanut butter", and so needless to say I accepted the invitation hands-down, no questions asked.

There were seven of us who met on Wednesday night at a bar close to the place where the event was being held for some serious strategizing. The plan was simple. We were going to do this assembly line-style (a strategy that's worked so well for Ford in the past hundred years can't be wrong) - one bread distributor, two peanut butterers, one jelly-er (that was me!), one bread smusher, and two crust cutters. After a few practice runs, a peanut butter-covered table, and some shots of liquid courage (a.k.a free rum from the open bar) we headed down, ready to make our names in the peanut butter world.

Things were just getting started when we walked in, so we settled down to watch the world's largest fruit kabob, the world's largest smore, and the fastest girl to ever say the alphabet backwards with an egg on her head and a spoon on her nose records being set.

Then, it was our turn. The moment of truth having finally arrived we all got into position (kneeled) around some very short tables. That was when mass chaos ensued. Truth-be-told no amount of practice could have prepared us for the frenetic energy that overtook us - mind, body, and soul. Although I can only speak for myself, I jellied like I had never jellied before. Maybe I couldn't do something as laborious or noteworthy as cooking through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, I thought, but there was no way I was going to fail at something so near and dear to my heart as making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. So I got into this zone where all I could see was the bread in front of me and the jelly container in my hand.

And it was glorious. When time was called, we arose from our delirium in a daze, some of us with peanut butter all over our pants (Andrew) and others of us shaking from the adrenaline of it all. After the the wreckage was cleared away and the stray peanut butter licked from the table (and some crusts eaten), the definitive tally was declared to be 14 sandwiches. A respectable number. Something that we could be proud of.

We walked out of that room with our new World Record Holder badges attached to our shirts and spent the rest of the night rehashing the tale of our success and patting ourselves on the back over mojitos and rice pudding. We were heroes, at least in our own minds. And even though I might not get a blockbuster movie out of it, I have at least made a small dent in the world of culinary feats.

What does this have to do with salmon, you might ask? Very little. Except that the recipe comes from Bon Appetit's Fast/Easy/Fresh, which I decided to cook my way through a long time ago, albeit at a very slow pace and with no time limit. Perhaps that will someday garner me some recognition, but until then, at least I have my world record.

Red-Curry Roasted Salmon with a Pepper and Snow Pea Salad
Serves 2, adapted from Bon Appetit's Fast/Easy/Fresh

1/2 lb salmon
1/2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 tbsp lime juice
1 tsp red curry paste
8 oz snow peas
1 red bell pepper, julienned
1 tbsp mint
1 tbsp basil

1. Preheat the oven to 400. Spray a large bakign sheet with cooking spray. Place fish on half the sheet. Whisk together the oil, lime juice, and red curry paste. Brush it over the salmon reserving whatever is left over. Place the snow peas and bell pepper on the other half of the bakign sheet and spray with cooking spray/sprinkle with salt.

2. Roast until the fish is just opaque and the veggies are tender, about 12 minutes. Plate the fish and toss the veggies with the leftover sauce, mint, and basil. Serve.

Buttered-Lime Rice
Serves 2, adapted from Lisa's Kitchen

3/4 cup brown rice
3/4 tbsp butter
1 tsp lime juice
1/4 tsp salt

1. Heat the butter in a small sauce pan over medium heat. As soon as it turns frothy and begins to burn, add in the brown rice and stir fry for 2 minutes.

2. Add water per package instructions, lime juice, and salt. Bring to a boil. Then cover and simmer until rice is cooked.

NOTES
Although I thought the salmon was a little bland, I loved the red curry dressing for the salad. It's fresh and bright flavor paired really nicely with the sweetness of the snow peas and bell pepper. I would make that on it's own before I make the salmon again.

I loved the rice. Lisa is a genius. It had such a subtle buttery/lime-y flavor. Delicious.

I am submitting the salad to the event No Croutons Required which is being hosted by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes.

TFF - Peach-Blueberry Pie

I was walking home from Central Park a few weekends ago with my friend Josh and we were talking about food. He likes to cook as much as I do so no matter what conversation topic we start out on, it really always comes back to something along the lines of, "So what are you making for dinner tonight?" Josh has mainly learned to cook from his mom and so he was telling me about some of her signature dishes. Then all of a sudden he went quiet.

"There was one time, though - we call it the meal that shall not be named - that something she made just didn't turn out."

"What was it?" I asked.

He shook his head sadly. "I didn't mean to do it," he said morosely. "It was all my fault."

"It will make you feel better if you talk about it. Let it out," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

After a moment of silent consideration, Josh nodded and began his tale. (The sky begins to darken at this point and even though up until now it has been a beautiful sunny day, there are some definite cracks of thunder and lightening in the distance. Not a sign of good things to come.)

"We have this tradition in my family where for your birthday, you can request a meal and Mom will do her best to make it. I wanted a really simple dinner, something easy, I think it was meatloaf or a roast but for dessert, and here is the fatal event, I requested a pecan pie. And so she set about to make it, all the while maintaining that pies just aren't her thing. And so we sit down to eat it, we've blown out the candles and everything. She hands me the pie cutter and I sink it into the first slice. And it is a liquid mess. Completely inedible. She hasn't been the same since."

We walk in silence for a bit more, Josh contemplating the gravity of what he has done, me contemplating whether or not the powers that be have issued me a challenge in the form of Josh's story. Pies are hard, they seem to be taunting, much too hard for an amateur like YOU.

Bring it on, I replied. (Cue background music - Eye of the Tiger).

This one's for you Josh.

And for the record, it wasn't that hard.

The only changes I made to this was to double the cornstarch since that is what many reviews said to do on the food network website as well as to use a crumb topping instead of a top crust. This pie was very good - not too sweet, which really allowed the flavors of the peach and blueberry to shine through. The crust was also AMAZING. My favorite part, actually, it was infused with this lemony flavor from all of the zest. It will definitely be my go-to fruit pie crust recipe in the future.

Peach-Blueberry Pie
Makes 1 9-inch pie, adapted from Tyler Florence

Filling:
2 lb peaches, pitted and sliced
1 pint blueberries
1/4 cup sugar
2 tbsp lemon juice
3 tbsp cornstarch
2 tbsp butter, cold and cut into dice

Crust:
1 egg yolk
1 cup flour
1 1/2 tbsp sugar
1/8 tsp salt
3/8 cup butter, cold and cut into dice
1 tbsp ice water
zest of one lemon

Crumble:
1/2 cup flour
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup butter, very cold and cut into dice
1/4 tsp cinnamon

1. Preheat the oven to 400. Move the oven rack to the bottom third of the oven.

2. Make the crust - combine the sugar, flour, salt, and lemon zest in the base of a food processor. Add in the butter and process until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the egg yolk and ice water. Pulse some more. Shape the dough into a disk and wrap it in plastic. Put it in the fridge and chill for 30 minutes.

3. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough to a 10-inch round. Loosely drape it over the rolling pin and transfer it to a greased 9-inch pie pan. Press the dough over the bottom and sides and trim the edges to 1/2-inch.

4. Toss the fruit with the sugar, cornstarch, and lemon juice. Pile the fruit into the pie shell and dot with butter.

5. In a food processor, mix together the crumble ingredients and pour over the pie. Put on a baking sheet and bake until the crust is golden brown and the juices are bubbling, 50-60 minutes. Cover with aluminum foil if they brown too fast. Cool before serving. Unless you can't wait to eat it but be warned it will be VERY messy to cut.

I am submitting this to Tyler Florence Fridays!

Pistachio Pesto Pasta with Butternut Squash

On Saturday my friends and I went out for some all-you-can-eat sushi and sake bombing at this restaurant called New Ashiya on 1st Avenue between 10th and 11th. For those of you who don't know, sake bombing basically consists of you dropping a shot of sake into a glass of beer and then chugging it as fast as possible. The best part is that you balance the shot of sake on top of your glass of beer (it's held in place by the chopsticks that you've placed on top of your glass to hold it) and then everyone bangs on the table at the same time so that the shot falls into the glass. I'm not usually one to drink a lot but this was a TON of fun. I ended up doing four. Everyone was impressed. Thankfully, all the alcohol that I ingested was balanced out by the 6 rolls of sushi that I ate (running 14.5 miles really gives you an appetite). Rice is a wonderful absorber.

Anyway, at the dinner one of the guys in my class randomly turned to me and said, "I suspect we have very similar tastes in food." I was kind of taken aback but then he started listing his favorite foods of all time. The things he can't go a day without eating. Oatmeal. Peanut butter. Almond butter. Butternut squash. Sweet potatoes. Apples. Mangoes. (Side note - this actually wasn't as out-of-the-blue as it sounds. His girlfriend is in culinary school and he knows about the blog, so we talk about food from time to time.)

His saying this got me thinking about my palate and how certain types of recipes just seem to draw me in. Anything with the words coconut and lime in the title, dishes with green sauces, winter squash, salmon, curry, peanut butter, avocado. I'm sure everyone has their own constellation of ingredients or characteristics that they look for in a food but it is so interesting to me just how different (or similar) they can be. It makes me wonder if flavor preferences come in sets so that if I'm inclined to like butternut squash, lets say, it means I must also like peanut butter and coconut, etc. I don't know if this even makes sense but this kind of rambling is what happens when you are slightly tipsy and manage to convince yourself that every thought you have is incredibly profound.

To be fair there is some relevance to the pistachio pesto that I made since pesto is a green sauce and we've already decided that I have a proclivity for green sauces. This recipe caught my eye when it appeared on Closet Cooking. I've always been fascinated by pestos that use non-traditional nuts or herbs. The pistachios lent the pesto a sweeter flavor than pine nuts do, which was actually very nice. It's too bad that I used all of my basil because i would have loved to make this in bulk for use during the winter. I still have most of the bag of pistachios left, so I guess I will just have to stop by Whole Foods and pick some more up.

Before I get to the recipe, I would like to thank Palidor of Crazy Asian Gal for giving me this award:
I have to nominate 7 other bloggers - Sophia of Burp and Slurp, Reeni of Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice, Donna of My Tasty Treasures, Kim of Stirring the Pot, Denise of Keeper Worthy Recipes, Mari of Namaste, and Shannon of Tri 2 Cook.

AND I also have to list 7 of my personality traits. I would say I am a very driven person (I always like to be challenged and will work hard to achieve my goals), intelligent, compassionate, whimsical, confident, controlling (in the sense that I like there to be a plan and to know what the plan is and that usually requires me being the planner since most people aren't as picky about such things), and generous.
This is my blender full of basil and pistachios. It looked too pretty not to take a picture.
Pistachio Pesto Pasta with Butternut Squash
Serves 4, adapted from Closet Cooking

1 lb pasta
1 large tub of basil
about 37 pistachios (Kevin said 2 tbsp but I kept adding them until it tasted right since I also used more basil)
1 clove garlic
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup spinach (for green-ness)
1 lb butternut squash, diced into small pieces

1. Preheat the oven to 400/425. Place the squash on a baking sheet, spray it with cooking spray, sprinkle it with salt and cook for 30-45 minutes or until soft. Set up the water for the pasta.

2. Combine the basil, pistachios, garlic, parmesan cheese, spinach, and olive oil in a food processor and process until reaches desired consistency.

3. Cook the pasta, reserving 1 cup of pasta water. Mix the pasta with the pesto and butternut squash. Add in the pasta water until sauce reaches desired consistency. Add salt to taste and top with grated parmesan cheese.

I am submitting this to Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted this week by Giz and Psychgrad of Equal Opportunity Kitchen.
This picture is for Sophia who likes all things green :D.

Lemon Mascarpone Blondies

I told one of my roommates yesterday that I've made the executive decision to try to bake something new every week. With the corollary that she and my other roommate, Sophie, will help me to eat whatever I've made, along with a portion of the MD/PhD class. I really do have a sweet tooth, it seems, and having dessert every day, whether it be as simple as a scoop of ice cream with some strawberries or something more elaborate has become crucial. My roommate was not too happy with this decision, proclaiming "But Joanne, not all of us run 20+ miles a week!" To which I responded, One slice of cake a week is not going to kill you. A wise and true statement on my end, if I do say so myself. Plus what she doesn't know is that almost everything I make has been healthified in some way, so it's never actually as bad as she thinks. But neither she nor anyone else has noticed yet, so I don't plan on cluing them in. What they don't know won't kill them...in fact, it might even make them healthier.

Speaking of running. Today was a 14.5 miler. For the next three weeks, Park Avenue will be closed on Saturdays and so we were able to run up and down Manhattan from City Hall to 72nd Street un-impeded by cars. In fact, Team In Training was the official "opener" of Park Avenue so if anyone watched NY1 or a local news station this morning (in NYC) we may have even been on it.

How fast was my run, you might ask? I averaged a 7:30 pace! It was like running on crack and I'm not quite sure how it happened. (Okay I'm a little sure that it had something to do with me putting my right foot in front of my left and then vice versa at an alarming rate.) My running partner, Matt, didn't show up this morning (TSK TSK) and so I had to run with other people. They claimed we were going to be keeping an 8:00 pace which is a little fast for me but I figured we would naturally slow down. WRONG. They just kept going. And going. And going. And so I just kept going. And going. And going. Doing it made me realize that I may actually qualify for the Boston Marathon with my time (as a female between the ages of 18 and 24 you need to finish a marathon in 3 hours 40 minutes)! How awesome would that be?!?!? So that is my new goal.

My fundraiser on Thursday went SOOO well! I charged $10 at the door to get a wristband, which then got you reduced prices on a variety of drinks. To prepare, I put up fliers all over my building and all over Sloan-Kettering's research facilities and in my New York Sports Club (thanks again to the manager!). I ended up making $500! A lot of random people from Sloan-Kettering/Cornell ended up coming, as did all of my friends, and I even got some random bar-goers to donate. My mom even came! The night was karaoke-filled and a ton of fun. Pete, the bartender and owner of For Pete's Sake is one of the most awesome guys I've ever met. He basically let me have free reign of the place which is something that usually doesn't happen at these things. I will definitely be holding any and all future fundraising events there, and of course stopping in for karaoke and a beer every Thursday. In addition, one of my uncles also donated $500, so now I am over halfway to my goal! This all actually seems feasible now and I am SOOO thrilled. If any of you want to donate, the link is now featured on the side of my blog, so click away.

Now that I've bored you to death with running updates (sorry I can't help it...this is all I think about), I will get on to the good stuff. Mascarpone cheese was on sale at Whole Foods last week and I picked it up and said, okay I can do something with this. I didn't want to make tiramisu or cheesecake because those would require a lot of ingredients. So when I found this recipe for mascarpone blondies on Simply Recipes, I was thrilled. I think they tasted more like cheesecake bars than blondies but who cares so long as they taste good! I would imagine you could substitute cream cheese for the mascarpone for a cheaper version of this baked good.
Lemon Mascarpone Blondies
Serves 12, adapted from Simply Recipes

1/4 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce
8 oz mascarpone
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 1/2 tsp lemon zest
1/2 tsp baking powder
a pinch each of baking soda and salt
1 cup flour

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Grease an 8x8 inch pan. Whisk together the melted butter and sugar.

2. Add the egg and vanilla extract and applesauce and whisk together.

3. Add the lemon juice, zest, and mascarpone and mix until smooth.

4. Add the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt and mix thoroughly.

5. Pour into the pan and spread evenly. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Allow to cool on a wire rack. Cut into squares when cool.

Louisiana Red Beans

You know it's way too hot to be running outside when you find salt crusted onto your face when you get home from practice. Not the best way to be starting out a food post, but my skin looked and tasted like someone had raked the Dead Sea and then deposited their collection all over my body. We did repeats of Harlem Hill in Central Park the other day for over 7 miles. It was incredibly humid and I swear I have never sweat so much in my life. It usually takes me at least three miles to really get a good perspiration going but within five minutes, I was drenched. At least it's good preparation for San Francisco!

So I've been trying to get back into my tradition of cooking one vegetarian and one non-vegetarian meal a week. It's much better for my wallet and probably also for my health. I had picked up some red beans at Fairway a few weeks back and they sat and sat on my bookshelf and then I forgot about them for a spell until I woke up last Thursday and remembered that I should eat them. Looking back at my bookmarked recipes, I found Susan of Fat Free Vegan Kitchen's recipe for Real Louisiana Red Beans and Rice.

Red beans and rice are a signature dish of Louisiana Creole Cuisine and are traditionally made on Mondays (I didn't know this then, but I actually did coincidentally make these on Mondays) with veggies, spices, and pork bones cooked together slowly in a pot. They are made on Monday because Monday is washday and you can leave these simmering on the stove while you go and wash all your clothing.

So how did I alter this recipe (because you already know I did)? Firstly, no celery. I hate the stuff. That and beets are the two veggies I just cannot bring myself to eat. Beets probably have a bit more leeway because their flavor can be disguised more easily. Celery just seems to permeate everything it touches. Secondly, no rice. I wanted sweet potatoes instead. No surprises there.

The end result - very delicious if not photogenic at all. Definitely good old stick-to-your-bones comfort food without the guilt. It was also the first time I've made beans on the stove instead of in the crockpot and honestly, I liked them better. Sorry crockpot!
Louisiana Red Beans and Sweet Potatoes
Serves 4, adapted from Fat Free Vegan Kitchen

500 g red beans
4 cloves garlic
1 large onion
1 red bell pepper
3 bay leaves
2 tsp thyme
1 tsp oregano
1/4 tsp cayenne
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp chipotle peppers in adobo
1 tbsp tabasco
1 tsp liquid smoke
1 1/2 lb sweet potatoes

1. Soak the beans in lukewarm water for 8-10 hours or overnight.

2. Drain the beans. Put them in a pot and cover them with water 2 inches above the top of the beans. Put over high heat.

3. Prep the veggies. Place the garlic cloves and the onion, quartered, into a food processor. Process until finely chopped. Add into the beans. Core and seed the red bell pepper. Cut into quarters. Also process until finely chopped and add to the beans. Mix all of the remaining ingredients except for the sweet potatoes into the beans. When the beans reach a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook, stirring every now and then until they are tender and falling apart. This took me about 2 hours. Add salt to taste (you will need a LOT). Cook for at least ten more minutes until the sauce is thick and the beans are disintegrating. Remove the bay leaves. NOTE - I also had to remove some of the water midway through because the beans were done and it was just TOO water. Use your own discretion.

4. About midway through the cooking of the beans, preheat the oven to 400. Cut the sweet potatoes into coins. Put them on a baking sheet, sprinkle with salt and bake for 40 minutes. Alternatively, I bet this would be great served in a buttercup squash bowl.

Cook The Books - The Last Chinese Chef, and How Drinking Cures Cancer!

THIS JUST IN. Consuming large amounts of alcohol WHILE singing karaoke cures cancer. But only when you do the two this Thursday from 9-11 pm at For Pete's Sake, a bar on 70th Street between 1st Avenue and York Avenue in NYC. I will be holding a happy hour there to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (and so that I can run in the Nike Women's Marathon). A ten dollar entrance fee will get you a wristband as well as reduced price beers, shots, and margaritas. Plus Thursday is karaoke night, which I can tell you from experience is a TON of fun! If you're in the NYC area PLEASE come by and tell your friends. It is definitely going to be a good time.

I am now going to abruptly change topics.

The Last Chinese Chef by Nicole Mones is a about a newly widowed woman, Maggie McElroy who is a food critic. Maggie and her late husband had what she thought was a good, albeit unique relationship, while he was still alive; both of them traveled a lot for work and so it was rare that they were ever in the same place for more than a few days at a time. But this seemed to work for them...kind of an absence makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal. After her husband's death, however, Maggie receives word from another lawyer in his company that a woman in China, where Matt often went on business trips, has filed a paternity claim against him. It seems that she has given birth to his child and, not knowing of his death, is suing him for child support. Maggie decides to leave the US for China in order to obtain the child's DNA for a paternity test. While going, she also takes on an assignment - to do a profile of a Chinese-American-Jewish chef named Sam Liang who is opening up a restaurant in China. Sam is infamous for his adherence to classic Chinese culinary practices and is also bent on translating his grandfather's treatise on cooking, The Last Chinese Chef, into English.

Even though Sam's restaurant opening gets canceled, Maggie decides to keep on with the assignment, instead choosing to write about a competition he is taking part in. Sam is auditioning to be on the national cooking team for the 2008 games in Beijing. As such, he has to prepare a huge multi-course meal, all in the style of traditional Chinese cooking. Throughout the novel, Sam gives his insight into Chinese cooking, which emphasizes textural and deceptive elements as much as it does taste. Eating for the Chinese is a completely sensual experience, stimulating both the mind and soul.

I have to say that I liked the foodie passages in this book more than the actual plot itself. I enjoyed reading about Sam's endeavors in the kitchen as well as his description of the theory behind traditional Chinese meals. There are so many aspects to take into consideration that no food is ever as simple as it appears...there are suprises behind every bite.

That being said I had a very difficult time deciding what to cook for this event. What I really wanted to do was to make one of the vegetarian ducks that Sam describes; these look so much like real duck that the taster is shocked when he bites into it only to discover that it does not contain a shred of meat. However, that seemed like a bit too much of an undertaking. As I went through the book, I earmarked every page in which is a dish was described and made a list when I finished of all of the potential options. One recipe that I kept coming back to was one for a local dish of shredded pork in piquant sauce that was served in a tofu wrapper. After some googling around, I came across a recipe for Mandarin Shredded Pork and Sweet Bean Sauce. This seemed piquant to me!

Sweet bean paste is commonly used in Chinese desserts. It is made of mashed adzuki beans and sugar. What I liked about this dish was that one looks at it expecting it to be savory and then bites into it, only to be met with a delicious and unprecedented sweetness. The pairing of the red bean paste, which is almost always associated with desserts, with the pork is one of those suprises that Sam talks a lot about in the book. I also decided to put this over pasta because, well, I like pasta. All in all, an excellent read accompanied by some excellent food!

I am submitting this to Cook The Books as well as to Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted this week by the creator herself, Ruth, of Once Upon A Feast.


Shredded Piquant Pork With A Red Bean Surprise
Seves 4, adapted from Recipezaar

1/2 lb pork cutlets
4 1/2 tsp soy sauce
1 tsp rice wine
2 tbsp water
2 tsp cornstarch
3-4 tbsp sweet red bean paste
4 1/2 tsp rice wine
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 tsp sugar
2 cups green onions
2 tbsp olive oil
1 lb spaghetti

1. Mix together the ingredients from soy sauce through cornstarch. Cut the pork cutlets into matchstick sized pieces and marinate for at least 30 minutes.

2. Set up the water for the pasta. Mix together the red bean paste, rice wine, soy sauce, and sugar.

3. In a large pan, heat the olive oil. Add the pork and its marinade, stir-frying until browned, about 2 minutes. Add in the sweet bean sauce and the sliced green onions. Cook until slightly thickened.

4. Mix the pork in with the pasta when it is done cooking. Top with a large dollop of red bean paste.

Summer Squash Casserole

Happy August everyone! The past few days have been a whirlwind of running and visitors and pretending to be a tourist in a city that I like to think I know like the back of my own hand. (Is it sad that I can list at a moment's notice all of the stores on 42nd street between Broadway and 8th Avenue?).

I ran my longest distance ever yesterday - 15 miles. Thanks to my awesome running partner, Matt, we finished in 2 hours and 7 minutes with an average pace of 8:28 minute miles. It was so great to run with someone who is the same speed-ish as I am and who I can talk to for 15 miles without getting bored of. As Matt said, "It was just so great to run with someone who I actually like." I hope I've convinced him that running at 7 AM on Saturday is way better than running at 8:30 M and that we'll make this a tradition.

After the 15 miles I came home and ate a bagel smothered in peanut butter. I knew I needed to calorie-load and really - can you think of a better way to start your morning? Smart water also saved my life since I lost a TON of electrolytes while running and needed to replenish the stock.

One of my friends from Boston had come in on Friday night to visit and so on Saturday we went into tourist mode. After mulling over our options, we decided that it was such a nice day that we would go to the Bronx zoo. It was fun to see all the animals and was the perfect atmosphere for some relaxing conversation. We then traveled back into the West Village for dinner at Dallas Jones BBQ - a cute but very small place on Houston street (mmmm pulled pork and maple sweet potatoes and STUFFING) and ended the night by meeting up with my roommate and her two friends at a bar called d.b.a on 1st Avenue between 2nd and 3rd. This place was a beer connoisseur's heaven (which I am not). They had cider ale, which is my absolute most favorite beer-like substance in the world, so I was happy.

And that brings me to this morning, where I have a whole day of nothing to do ahead of me. Hopefully, the weather will clear up and I will be able to go sit in Central Park with a good book. Then, I am meeting up with one of my BEST friends from Boston who I miss to no end, hopefully for some Thai food or sushi. Or maybe Indian.

This summer squash casserole was one that I made for my family a while back with summer squash that I bought at the farmer's market. I actually used a combination of yellow summer squash and lita squash, which are these very pale green squash that are supposedly slightly sweeter than normal summer squash. Everyone loved it except for my brother who doesn't like squash or eggplant or anything with that consistency unless it is breaded and fried. My dad even insisted that I should make it for any future boyfriend because it would most certainly win his heart. I am submitting it to this week's Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted by Anna from Anna's Cool Finds.
Summer Squash Casserole
Serves 6, adapted from A Veggie Venture

2 lb summer squash, sliced thin
2 tbsp butter
1/2 cup reduced fat sour cream
1/2 cup reduced fat cheddar cheese
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp paprika
2 egg yolks, lightly beaten
2 tbsp chives, chopped
2 tbsp butter
1/4 cup bread crumbs
1/4 cup grated parmesan

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Put all the zucchini in a microwaveable bowl, add a tbsp or two of water, cover with plastic wrap and microwave until tender.

2. In a saucepan, melt 2 tbsp butter, sour cream, cheese, salt and paprika until smooth. A tbsp at a time, whisk the cheese sauce into the eggs so that they become tempered and don't cook upon contact. Put all the squash in a 9x13 casserole dish. Cover with cheese sauce.

3. Mix the topping ingredients (the chives, 2 tbsp melted butter, bread crumbs, and parmesan). Spread evenly over the squash. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until hot and bubbly.

We ate this with a nice piece of steak, as my grandmother would say.