Fusilli Al Fagiolini - A Book Review of The Geometry of Pasta

800+ year old pasta seeks a thick chunky sauce to entwine itself with; to trap amongst its ridges; to hold onto and never let go.  Enjoys long walks on the beach, meandering through the small intestine, and pleasuring the taste buds of pasta eaters world wide.

Likes: nice full bodied sauces with curves, texture, and multiple dimensions.

Dislikes: thin, one-dimensional sauces that will slip right through its spindles. Pesto, alfredo, and vodka sauces need not apply. 



Now.  Some may argue that choosing the perfect pasta shape to pair with the perfect pasta sauce.  Is trivial.  Unimportant.  Something to be decided in five seconds as you rush into the grocery store on your way home from work, close your eyes, and blindly pull a box and a jar from the supermarket shelves.  And, well, hope for the best.

To those people.  Man, am I about to blow your mind.


In their new book, The Geometry of Pasta, which I absolutely jumped at the chance to review, Caz Hildebrand and Jacob Kennedy argue that the Italian "preoccupation with choosing the right pasta shape to go with the right sauce" is not just some silly European thang, but can actually "[make] the difference between pasta dishes that are merely ordinary and truly sublime".

In short, shape and size do matter.  No matter what your mom (or your girlfriend) tried to tell you.

Using the geometry of a given pasta - each with its own nuances, personality traits, online dating profile - one can actually turn the art of pasta preparation into a science; an architectural study, if you will. 

However, I think we all know it is not as straightforward as all that.  Like choosing a husband (ahem), there are dealbreakers of course - certain rules and regulations that one must abide by (for example - some pastas refuse to date smokers.  Or picky eaters.  And by "some pastas" I actually mean me.), but there are also exceptions.  Evolution.  Subtleties.

One could pair a penne with a blonde haired blue-eyed ragu one day.  And then realize that maybe it would do better with a brunette of a penne a la vodka the next.

Much like matchmaking, it's an art form and a semi-confusing one at that.  Thankfully, though, it is demystified a little by Hildebrand's and Kennedy's book, which devotes a chapter to each pasta shape that denotes the origin of that shape, and provides a list of sauces that would mesh well with it, along with a specific recipe or two.  A book well worth having, in my opinion.

Now if only someone could make something like that for dating in the real world. A rubric or checklist of sorts.  That would be awesome.

But until then, I'll stick to pasta.



If you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, please head on over to Foodbuzz and vote for me to be the next Project Food Blog Star!  You can find my entry to challenge #2 here.  Remember, you have 200 votes for this round, so I would really appreciate it if you would make Eats Well With Others one of them!

Gemelli Fusilli Al Fagiolini
Serves 4, adapted from The Geometry of Pasta

1 lb pasta
1 1/3 lb green beans
2/3 cup half and half
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 clove garlic
parmesan cheese

1. Trim the tops from the green beans but leave the tails.  Boil about 2/3 of the green beans in salted water until COMPLETELY cooked - no crunch!  Put in a food processor or blender and puree with the half and half, cinnamon, and garlic.  Season with salt and black pepper.  Set aside.

2. Set another pot to boil.  Cook the pasta until al dente.  About 4 minutes before it is done, add the remaining green beans into the pasta.  About a minute before being done, strain the pasta, reserving about a cup of hot pasta water.  Put in a pan along with the green bean cream sauce and a splash of pasta water (NOT the whole cup, just enough that it's allowing the sauce to be.  Well.  A sauce.)  Cook together until al dente and well coated.  Season with salt and pepper.  Sprinkle it with parmesan cheese and walnuts, if so desired.

Disclaimer - Although I received these products for free, I did not receive any monetary compensation for doing this review. My thoughts and feelings on them are entirely my own.

I am submitting this to Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted this week by Ruth of Once Upon A Feast.  I am also submitting it to Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted by Simona of Briciole.

Also, today is the last day for Regional Recipes: JAPAN submissions, so please send them my way!

Japanese Chicken Curry - Regional Recipes: Japan

There are people out there who think they don't like curry.

I know this for a fact because one of them gave birth to me.  And another donated a whole bunch of genes and chromosomes to the one who gave birth to me. 

(I use the term donated loosely because I have a feeling it wasn't an entirely selfless act.  If you know what I'm saying.  Hubba hubba.)



Well, fear no more.

Stop the presses and drop whatever you're doing because I have found it.

The gateway drug of curries.  The marijuana of the narcotics world.

(Although, I should clarify for my mother who may or may not be reading this and who has a tendency to manipulate just about everything anyone says to suit her own purposes (selective hearing at its finest).  Curry is NOT a controlled substance.  There are NO government regulations regarding it's sale and/or production.  And yes, President Obama is STILL a US citizen.  No matter what FOX news or Rush Limbaugh has to say about it.) 



The thing about Japanese curry, you see, is that it is not really curry. 

Really. Deep down. Beneath all of that misguided youth clothing.  The pierced eyebrows.  The studded belts.  The Silly Bandz shaped like the chemical structures of hallucinogenic drugs.

It is really just a stew.  A hearty, thick, utterly delicious stew.  Perfect for your average meat-and-potatoes American, except of course, if you are my brother who is possibly the only meat-and-potatoes American who doesn't actually like meat-and-potatoes.  At least not in stew form.

It tastes surprisingly like the stew that your momma used to make, but with a little hint of something...extra.  Something unexpected.  Something utterly hypnotic that, try as though you might, you just can't place. 

That would be the garam masala, people.  And I know I said it wasn't a narcotic. 

But damn. Is it ever addictive.



If you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, please head on over to Foodbuzz and vote for me to be the next Project Food Blog Star!  You can find my entry to challenge #2 here.  Remember, you have 200 votes for this round, so I would really appreciate it if you would make Eats Well With Others one of them!




Japanese Chicken Curry
serves 4, adapted from [No Recipes]

For the Roux
3 tbsp butter
1/4 cup flour
2 tbsp garam masala
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
fresh ground black pepper
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce (or tonkatsu sauce if you can find it!)

For the Curry
2 tsp oil
2 large onions, sliced thin
1 1/2 lb chicken thighs, cut into large chunks (beef, shrimp, or tofu can also be used!)
2 carrots, chunked
4 cups water
about 1 1/2 lb blue potatoes, chunked (although Yukon gold are recommended.  I found these at the Farmer's Market and couldn't restrain myself)
1 small apple, peeled, cored, and pureed or grated
2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 cup peas (I used frozen)

1. Heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium heat.  Add the onions and cook on medium heat until brown and caramelized, about 30 minutes.  Turn up the heat to high and add the chicken to brown it.

2. Add in the carrots and water and bring to a boil.  Once the water is boiling, add the potato chunks, apple, salt, and garam masala and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes.

3. While that is simmering, make your roux.  In a small nonreactive saucepan, melt the butter on medium heat.  Add in the flour and garam masala, stirring until you have a thick paste.  Add in the cayenne and black pepper and incorporate it into the roux.  Add the tomato paste and worcestershire sauce and mix.  Cook until the paste starts to crumble and it seems like most of the liquid is dissolved.  Remove from the heat and set aside until the meat and veggies are ready.

4.  When there are 2-3 minutes left for the meat to simmer, remove two cups of water from the pot and pour it into the pan with the roux, whisking until all (or most) of the roux has dissolved.  Pour this back into the pot with the meat and stir until the sauce thickens.  Add in the peas and stir until heated through.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

This is my entry to Regional Recipes: JAPAN which you should submit an entry to!  Email it to me by September 30th!  It is also going to Deb over at Kahakai Kitchen for Souper Sundays and to Hearth 'n Soul!

Please Vote For Me - Butternut Squash Enchiladas with Red Mole Sauce

Thank you all SO MUCH for your support last week in round one of Project Food Blog.  I truly could not have advanced to round 2 without your help!  

However, the challenges are not over and I need you guys again for Challenge #2.  My submission for this week's challenge is Butternut Squash Enchiladas with Red Mole Sauce, a verified Mexican classic.

If you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others please VOTE here. Voting will start at around 9AM EST.  You have 200 votes for this round and I would love it if Eats Well With Others were one of them!

Butternut Squash Enchiladas with Red Molè - Project Food Blog Challenge #2

To say that the thought of making molè sauce has struck fear into my heart since I first tasted it in 2006.  Is.  Well.  An understatement.

In reality, I have lived in mortal terror of this rich and complex entity (and trust me, this sauce is an entity if ever I've heard of one.) ever since one fateful night out in Boston when my college roommate convinced me that my life would not be complete without it.

Actually, she told me to stay away from it at all costs (she had had a bad experience with homemade mole` a few years earlier and had reportedly been scarred for life).  And so I, in true Joanne fashion, forged ahead and ordered it, completely unperturbed by the mass of brown goo that arrived in front of me a mere twenty minutes later.  I mean, how is a girl going to achieve her goal of eating the world if she shirks at every mass of brown goo that appears in front of her.  Really. 

Suffice it to say that after one spoonful, the thick sauce coating my tongue with its bitter sweet savory spicy mix of chiles, raisins, nuts, and chocolate.  I was hooked.


So, you ask.  What has kept me from making it these past four years?  What, pray tell, could the girl who has conquered pierogi, homemade pasta, and pulled pork (sigh.  pulled pork.) have to fear from a sauce?

Was it the twenty plus ingredient list?  The multiple hours of cooking?  The prospect of potentially letting down an entire nation of devout mole` lovers with some kind of subpar rendition of Mexico's most celebrated cuisine?

No, no, and, well.  Kind of, but mostly no.

In actuality, what has kept me from taking on the tremendous endeavor that is molè making.  Is the legend behind the sauce.  There are a few actually, and while its origins are shrouded in a dark and hazy history, the one consensus that all of them come to is that the awe-inspiring and counter-intuitive combination of ingredients that come together to make mole` what it is.  Is nothing less than an act of god.

Now I don't if you know anything about Montezuma, the god of the American southwest and protector of all things Mexican.  But he was one wicked immortal.  And by wicked I mean vindictive, tyrannical, a force to be reckoned with.

And so it is fear of incurring his wrath that has kept me out of the kitchen all these years.

Until now.



When I saw that the next challenge for Project Food Blog was to recreate a classic ethnic dish, I immediately knew that molè was the one I wanted to conquer.  I felt like I had finally built up my cooking prowess enough so that I would make something that Montezuma would be proud of.  Or, at least, wouldn't strike me down dead for.

Plus, according to Wikipedia (a most trusted and revered source amongst students and food bloggers alike), molè was the first international dish created in the Americas, as it contained ingredients from three continents - the Americas, Europe, and Africa.  And what is food blogging about, if not bringing people together; bridging cultures through the sharing of food.




And so on one fateful Monday evening of last week.  When I should have been learning all of the different ways that the cerebellum acts to modulate and coordinate balance and movement.  I set to it.

Spices flew.  Nuts were ground.  Spoons were licked.  And I'm pretty sure every ingredient somehow managed to find its way into my hair at one point or another because I smelled like mole` for days afterward.  Or maybe it was just that some of it ended up on the ceiling.  Hmm.

It was a trying and arduous experience.  But after over an hour of simmering, when I tasted the concoction that I had been vigorously stirring at ten minute intervals, kind of worried that the whole thing was going to be a bust and that I had wasted a few hours of my life for naught.  I was transported back to that fateful day in 2006, the day that started it all.

And yeah.  It was worth it.



Butternut Squash Enchiladas with Red Molè Sauce
Serves 4, adapted from How To Cook Everything Vegetarian

1 large butternut squash
3 tbsp almond milk
7 mild to medium dried chiles, I used a mix of pasilla, guajillo, and ancho chiles, soaked in boiling water for 10 minutes, deseeded, and chopped
1 cup assorted nuts, I used a mix of pecans and almonds
2 tbsp tahini or sesame seeds
2 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder or chopped unsweetened chocolate (I used the latter - more authentic!)
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 head garlic, peeled
2 plum tomatoes, cored
1 slice thick white bread
1/2 quart vegetable stock, plus more water as needed
2 tbsp neutral frying oil
2 bay leaves
1 cinnamon stick
1 tbsp ground cumin
1/2 tbsp ground allspice
1 tsp anise seeds
salt and freshly ground black pepper
brown sugar, as needed (I used 2 1/2 tbsp)
12 small corn tortillas (plus a few extra, just in case)
1/4 cup crumbled queso fresco (omit if vegan)
chopped fresh cilantro

1. Preheat oven to 400.  Cut butternut squash in half and de-seed.  Place it cut side up on a baking sheet covered in aluminum foil.  Put it in the oven and bake for 45 minutes to an hour, or until fork tender.  When done, remove and allow to cool.  When cool to the touch, scoop the flesh into a large bowl.  Mash using a potato masher, adding in almond milk as needed to smooth it out.  I added about 3 tbsp.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

2. Put the chiles, nuts, tahini, chocolate, onion, garlic, tomatoes, and bread in a blender or food processor. Add just enough veggie stock so that the machine won't burn out on you without actually blending or processing anything.  Process/blend until pureed.

3. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a large pot over medium heat.  Add in the pureed mixture along with all of the spices.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper, not TOO much.  Just enough to bring out the flavors in the pot.  Cook, stirring frequently and scraping the bottom of the pan, until it begins to turn color, about 3-5 minutes.  Turn the heat to low, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is deeply colored and almost dry, about 15-20 minutes.

4. Turn the heat back up to medium-high and slowly stir in the veggie stock.  Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and bring to a barely bubbling simmer.  Cook, stirring occasionally, for an hour or so until the sauce is thick and smooth.  Taste for seasoning, adding salt, pepper, and brown sugar as needed.  Remove the cinnamon stick and bay leaves and keep the sauce warm.

5. Preheat the oven 350.  Spoon a thin layer of the mole into an 8x8 or 11x4 inch pan.  Place the corn tortillas, about 4 at a time, between two damp paper towels in the microwave.  Microwave for 30 seconds.  Alternatively, you can fry them until softened and pliable, about 10 seconds each.

6. Spread approximately 2 tbsp of the butternut squash mash into the center of each tortilla, roll tightly, and put them in the baking dish, seam side down.  Repeat with all of the tortillas.  Cover with another layer of red mole sauce.  Bake for 25 minutes.  Sprinkle with queso fresco and cilantro.  Serve with extra mole sauce.

Thank you all so much for your support!  It is due to all of your votes that I made it through round 1 of Project Food Blog.  This is my entry to Project Food Blog Challenge #2!  Voting begins tomorrow so if you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, go over and show your love!

This is also my entry to this week's I Heart Cooking Club and to Food 'n Flix the first movie for which was Chocolat!  I am also sending it to Meatless Mondays!

Please remember to submit your recipes for Regional Recipes: Japan by September 30th! 

Homemade Italian Sausage and Roasted Red Pepper Lentil Stew

Stews have a pretty high positive predictive value when it comes to diagnostic tools.

They sit on the stove, simmering away.  Perfuming your entire apartment with their luscious scent.



And you sit at your desk, ostensibly studying but most probably watching Glee. Or the Real Housewives of New Jersey Reunion.  Depending on just how trashy you feel at the moment.

Sniffing away.  Your stomach growling with reckless abandon.



You become inured to the smell after a while, your olfactory receptors adapting so that they don't get overly stimulated and burned out.  But every once in a while they recharge.  You get a whiff.  And think.  Damn that smells good.

And it's at this moment that you can rest assured that your first cranial nerve is in good working order, you lucky dog, you.

The significance of which is that you will not be getting Alzheimer's Disease in the next ten years.  Rock.  On.

(Yes, it's true.  Studies have shown that people who eventually go on to be diagnosed with Alzheimer's lose their sense of smell approximately ten years prior to its onset.  Crazy.)



Once I discovered this, I immediately started to smell everything in sight.  Which is not necessarily a good thing when the objects in sight are dirty laundry and old gym clothes.

But is truly an awesome thing when you have a huge pot of red lentils, sausage, and tomatoes simmering away on the stove.  First of all, because you get to reassure yourself that you will not be going senile at the ripe old age of 33.  And second of all because.  After the extremely strenuous diagnostic testing is over.  You get to eat this stew.  Which, with it's rustic charm.  Is possibly one of the most delicious things I've ever made.

So, have a cranial nerve testing party.  Invite all your friends.  All in the name of public health, of course.  And eat this stew knowing that, although it tastes damn good, you're really just doing it for your health.  After all, it's never too early to get tested.



Homemade Italian Sausage
Makes 1.5 lb, adapted from Symon's Live To Cook

1 1/2 lb pork shoulder, either diced or ground by your grocer
1 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp salt
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 tsp fennel seeds, toasted

1. Combine the meat, sugar, salt, garlic, and fennel seeds in a bowl.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

2. If you diced the meat, then grind the sausage in a grinder or food processor.  Return it to the fridge to cool for 30 minutes.  If you bought the meat already ground, then you are good to go!

Italian Sausage and Roasted Red Pepper Lentil Stew
Serves 4, adapted from Closet Cooking

1/2 lb Italian sausage, casings removed
1 tbsp oil
1 onion, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
red pepper flakes, to taste
1 cup red wine
1 cup red lentils
2 cups chicken broth
1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes
2 roasted red bell peppers, diced
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp oregano
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper, to taste
parsley and feta cheese for garnish

1. Cook the sausage in a large pot, breaking into crumbles with a spatula as you go.  Set aside.

2. Heat the oil in the same pot.  Add the onion and carrots, and saute until tender, about 10 minutes.

3. Add the garlic and chili pepper flakes and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

4. Add the red wine and deglaze the pan.  Add the sausage, lentils, chicken broth, tomatoes, roasted red bell peppers, bay leaf, oregano, and balsamic vinegar.  Bring to a boil.

5. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer until the lentils are cooked, about 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

6.  Season to taste with salt and pepper. Ladle into bowls and top with chopped parsley and feta crumbles.

This is my submission to Symon Sundays, hosted by Ashlee over at Veggie by Season, to Weekend Herb Blogging hosted by Winnie of Healthy Green Kitchen, and to Souper Sundays hosted by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen. This is linked to Finding Joy in My Kitchen's Countdown to 2011!

Murgh Korma or Chicken Cooked in a Yogurt-Almond Sauce - Cook The Books

I am looking for a camera in my apartment.

Not just any camera.  But the one that I'm pretty sure that my roommate, Anu's, parents have installed.  To watch us.

And by us.  I mean me.

(Quick!  Differential diagnosis?  GO!  GO!  GO!  Axis II Personality Disorder - Narcissism.  Reference delusions.  Paranoia.)



I've been collecting evidence, you see (Really Jo?  Collecting evidence?  Is THIS what you should be doing with your time?) and the thing is.  All signs point to hidden camera.

How else can you explain why they magically appear every time I am mid curry.  Covered in cilantro, garam masala, cardamom pods.  Scurrying around the kitchen like a crazy white girl who knows nothing about making Indian food.


I can see them now.  Sitting in front of the Spy Cam.  Watching fervently, eyes glued to the screen so that the second I reach for the turmeric, they shake their heads.  Sadly.  Say to each other, "By god she's at it again."  And head on over to our apartment, all the way from New Jersey, so that they can be on stand-by in case anything goes truly awry.



To be fair, though.  After reading Madhur Jaffrey's memoir - Climbing the Mango Trees - I understand why they would be so protective of their food.  Indian culture is one that is rife with heady spice mixtures, intense flavors, and copious amounts of heat.  All meant to be enjoyed while sitting at a table with every member of your extended family.  Eaten slowly. Savored.  Shared.  Letting each bite explode in your mouth with reckless abandon.

It's no wonder that Jaffrey became so enamored with food, both eating it when she was younger, and, I assume, cooking it as an adult.  And so really, how, as a self-proclaimed foodie, could I be expected not to?

The thing that I find hardest about cooking Indian food is finding an authentic recipe.  One that is not Westernized and completely altered to suit our maladapted American palates.

This is where Jaffrey comes in.  Her reverence of her culture is so great and made so obvious in the book that I am sure the recipes she offers are no less than the real McCoy.

And after tasting this Murgh Korma.  You will be too.  Never have I created a dish that is so rich in flavor, so spot on, so intensely delicious that you just.  Can't.  Stop.  Eating it.  Whole chicken pieces stewed with a creamy yogurt sauce that, although rich in texture, is actually quite light.  A dish that I could serve Anu's parents with pride.

At least, that is.  Until I found out that they were vegetarian.

Do I see Jaffrey's World Vegetarian in my future?  You bet.

(Just for the record, I adore Anu's parents and I highly doubt they are judging me at all in any way when they come over.  Okay. Maybe just a little.  But only out of love.  :P)



If you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, please head on over to Foodbuzz and vote for me to be the next Project Food Blog Star!  You can find my entry to challenge #1 here.  Remember, you have 400 votes for this round, so I would really appreciate it if you would make Eats Well With Others one of them!

Chicken Cooked in a Yogurt-Almond Sauce (Murgh Korma)
Serves 4, adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Climbing The Mango Trees

1 2.5-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
4-5 coves garlic, peeled and chopped
3 tbsp blanched, slivered almonds
1 1/2 cups nonfat Greek yogurt
1 1/2 tsp garam masala
1 tbsp ground coriander
1/2-1 tsp cayenne pepper, to taste
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onion, peeled, cut in half lengthwise and thinly sliced into fine half-rings
two 2-inch cinnamon sticks
8 whole cardamom pods
2 bay leaves
3 1/4-ish pound whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces, skinned
2 tbsp golden raisins
3 tbsp finely chopped fresh cilantro

1. Put the ginger, garlic and 1/4 cup water into a blender or food processor.  Blend until you have a smooth paste. Add the almonds and another 2 tbsp water.  Blend again until you have a smooth paste.

2. Put the yogurt in a bowl and whisk the garam masala, coriander, cayenne, and salt into it.  Stir well to mix.

3. Put 1 tbsp of the oil into a large, preferably nonstick saute pan and set it over medium heat.  When it is hot, put in the sliced onions.  Stir and fry for 10-12 minutes, until the onions are reddish brown.  Remove the onion with a slotted spoon, leaving as much oil behind as possible.  Spread the onion slices over a paper towel-lined plate.

4. Put the cinnamon, cardamom, and bay leaves into the same pan over medium heat.  Stir once or twice.  A minute later, put in the chicken pieces, only as many as the pan can hold in a single layer.  Brown the chicken pieces lightly on both sides, removing them to a bowl.  Do all the chicken pieces this way.  Add the golden raisins to the pan.  Stir a few times, then add in the paste from the blender.  Stir and fry for 2 minutes.  Now put in the contents of the bowl with the chicken, the contents of the yogurt bowl, and the fried onions.  Stir to mix and bring to a simmer, still on medium heat.  Cover, turn the heat to low, and cook gently for 25-30 minutes, stirring gently every now and then, until the chicken pieces are tender.  Sprinkle with cilantro and serve.

This is my entry to this edition of Cook The Books, hosted by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen!  And also to this week's Hearth and Soul!

Please remember to send me your recipes for REGIONAL RECIPES: JAPAN!

Eggplant "Crostini" with Symon's Red Pepper Relish and Feta

If you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, please head on over to Foodbuzz and vote for me to be the next Project Food Blog Star!  You can find my entry to challenge #1 here.  Remember, you have 400 votes for this round, so I would really appreciate it if you would make Eats Well With Others one of them!  



This weekend, I held a memorial service for the C fibers in my tongue and possibly for a few in my fingertips.  (The C fibers being the nerves that sense pain, for all of you who were not required to memorize all of the spinothalamic tracts of the central nervous system last week.  Consider yourselves lucky.)

The whole thing was kind of awkward, you see, because I'm the one who killed them. 

(Talk about a bull in a china shop.  Sheesh, Jo. Do you have no remorse?)



I didn't really mean to do it.  It's just.  Capsaicin is so...addictive.

That burn you get when you eat a jalapeno.

Or the one that appears on your fingers a full four hours after making red pepper relish because you forgot to wash your hands.

You know, the one that, because you are a hypochondriac, you immediately attribute to your stress fractures and so you call your orthopedist (who you just happen to have on speed dial) and demand an explanation for this untoward behavior. And he sighs because, well, this is not the first time you've called him at ungodly hours of the night.  And then he reminds you that pain cannot radiate from your pelvis to your fingertips.  No matter how delusional you are.   



And then, because you are a good, diligent med student who remembers everything she's learned in the past two years.  Everything except, well, everything.

You realize exactly what you've done.

By eating and touching capsaicin (the chemical in peppers that makes them so gloriously spicy).  Which seeps into your skin and binds to your pain receptors with such voracity that it causes them to fire away, electricity and action potentials running rampant with a fervor that rivals that of a fireworks show on the 4th of July.  The sky igniting in flame and sparkle.

Your sensory neurons twitching away, synapsing with everything in site.  Until they just.  Give.  Out.

Yes, it is a sad sad thing.

But given how delicious.  How sweet tangy spicy this red pepper relish is.  How virtuous you feel after throwing it on top of some eggplant (possibly the last of the season!) with some feta cheese and a good hunk of bread and calling it a meal.

Oh it is so worth it. 

This is my submission to Symon Sundays hosted over at Veggie By Season!



Red Pepper Relish
Makes 2 cups, adapted from Symon's Live To Cook

1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 small red onion, finely diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
salt
2 red bell peppers, cored, seeded and diced very finely
2 jalapeno, seeded and diced
1 tbsp coriander seeds, toasted
1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 cup pomegranate juice (Michael calls for orange juice, but I had POM on hand)
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1. Heat a medium nonreactive saucepan over medium-low heat.  Add the olive oil to glaze the bottom of the pan.  Add the onion, garlic, and salt and sweat until the onion begins to soften, about 2 minutes.  Add the bell peppers and jalapenos and sweat for 2 more minutes.  Add the coriander seeds and cook for another 30 seconds.

2. Add the sugar and vinegar and cook, stirring, until the sugar dissolves.  Add the pomegranate juice and simmer.  Stir occasionally, until the liquid completely reduces.  Michael says this only take 10 minutes. I say that is a lie.  15-20 minutes.  Remove from the heat and allow the relish to cool to room temperature.  Season with salt to taste and fold in the cilantro.  Refrigerate for up to 1 month.

For the "crostini":
Either preheat your oven to 450, your broiler to high, or fire up the grill!  I would have much preferred to fire up the grill.  But, um.  I live in a 12th floor apartment.  That wasn't happening.  Slice eggplant into large thick-ish coins.  Spray with cooking spray or drizzle with olive oil.  Sprinkle with salt.  Grill/broil/bake until tender to the touch/desired consistency!

Sprinkle with red pepper relish and some feta cheese.  Enjoy.

Please remember to send me your recipes for REGIONAL RECIPES: JAPAN!  

And if you like what you see here at Eats Well With Others, please vote for me to be the Next Project Food Blog Star!  Remember, you have 400 votes for this round, so I would really appreciate it if you included me as one of them!

Red Velvet Whoopie Pies

I am, apparently, late in jumping on the Whoopie pie bandwagon.

According to the New York Times, they were "having their moment" in March of 2009 so in many ways this is kind of an E! True Hollywood Story: Where Are They Now? kind of deal. 




And come to think of it.  Why is there no E! True Hollywood Story for baking?  I mean, don't you all want to hear about whether or not the mincemeat pies of yesteryear have made it out of their drug-induced comas without any permanent brain damage?  Whether the macaroons, behind that refined and delicate exterior, are actually sex-addicted nymphomaniacs as some of us have suspected for years?  (Okay, maybe I'm the only one who thinks about these things.  Don't judge me.)



Well, better fashionably late than never is what I always say.




And with the tangy sweet hint of chocolatey goodness smothered in cream cheese frosting that anyone with a pulse can't help but find themselves addicted to.  We all know the party doesn't start until Miz Velvet arrives anyway.

She's the life, baby.  Live it up. 



REMEMBER TO EMAIL ME YOUR RECIPES FOR REGIONAL RECIPES: JAPAN!

Red Velvet Whoopie Pies
Makes about 30 2-inch pies, adapted from Annie's Eats

4 cups AP flour
4 tbsp cocoa powder
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups light brown sugar, packed
2 large eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
2 oz red food coloring
8 oz cream cheese (I used 1/3 less fat)
5 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 375.  On a piece of parchment paper that is sized to your cookie sheets, trace evenly spaced circles (or whatever shape you want your whoopie pies to be).  I would do this for about four pieces of parchment paper.

2. In a bowl, mix together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, using the paddle attachment, cream together the brown sugar and butter until fluffy, about 2 minutes.  Beat in the eggs until incorporated, scraping down the sides as necessary.  Blend in the vanilla.

3. With the mixer on low speed, add in 1/3 of the flour mixture.  When just incorporated, add in half of the buttermilk, mixing until just incorporated.  Repeat with the remaining flour and buttermilk, until all of the flour has been added.  Do not overbeat.  Blend in the food coloring.

4. Transfer the batter to a pastry bag fitted with a super large plain round tip.  I would venture to say that mine wasn't large enough, so it really is good to have one of those wide gaping holes of a tip.  Pipe the batter onto the parchment paper using the stencils as a guide.  Bake 7-9 minutes, turning the pan halfway through, until the tops are set.  Allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for at least 10 minutes and then move to a cooling rack.  Repeat with the remaining  batter.

5. Once cookies have COMPLETELY COOLED,  make the cream cheese frosting. In the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the cream cheese and the butter together until thoroughly blended.  Add in the vanilla.  Gradually beat in the confectioner's sugar until totally incorporated, then up the speed and beat until smooth.

6. Transfer the frosting to a clean pastry big fitted with a large plain round tip.   Pair the cookies by shape and size.  Pipe the frosting onto the flat side of a cookie, leaving some space around the edges.  Sandwich the cookies together so that the flat sides are facing each other and press gently to allow the filling to spread.  Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

This is my submission to Foodie Fridays hosted by Designs by Gollum.

Mexican Sweet Potato Risotto - Project Food Blog Challenge #1

Yesterday, I went stir crazy.

And it's not even that I sat in the house all day, more that I was inside my head all day.  The neospinothalamic tract of the anterolateral system, the one that senses pain, temperature, and crude touch, was battling it out with the dorsal column-medial lemniscus system (or DC-ML as we in the biz call it), which senses fine touch, vibrations, posture, etc.  And then in stomped neuroradiology with its many and varied forms of MRIs and CT scans, forcing itself into the proverbial boxing ring of my inner psyche.  (Leave it to radiology to add insult to injury.  It always feels the need to add its two cents wherever it is least wanted.  And no offense to the radiologists out there.  But did I really need one more thing to add to my study sheet?)

It is a crazy world in there, let me tell you.

And so, after the madness of all that, I think you can all understand why I sent out my own version of a "Dear John letter" in the form of a tweet that read.  "I want to quit med school."  Simple.  Concise.

Suspicious.  Because I think we all know that if I were to write a real "Dear John letter", it would certainly not be able to be contained by the 140 character limit of Twitter.  No. It would be prosaic.  Lengthy.  There would be a nice mix of both run-on and incomplete sentences.  Variety is the spice of life, after all.  Have to stay true to form.



Anyway.  Within about thirty seconds, about twelve of you replied, all begging me to reconsider.

At which, I couldn't help but smile.  Partly because in reality, I tell my roommates I am going to quit med school at least thirty times a day.  If not more.  And partly because.  You care.  And I care that you care.

Which begs the question.  Why?

And so, instead of committing to memory all of the first, second, and third order neurons of the somatosensory tracts.  I ruminated. Pondered.

And realized this.  I care because blogging is what keeps me afloat.  It's something that I can look forward to every day, even when everything else is/was/will be in shambles.  Even when my pelvis was fractured and I could barely move.  Even when I had to memorize every artery, vein, and nerve of the brachial plexus.

I could take a break.  Cook and eat and write.  I could wax sarcastic about everything under the sun. I could come here, to this space. And I would always have someone to laugh with me about it.

You care, I highly suspect, because you can always come here knowing that I will probably be writing the most hallucinatory, ridiculous, outlandish things.  My posts will never be short, I can promise you that much.  They will always be kooky.  Cadavers and sperm count and latin lovers will abound.  And yet, no matter how far afield I go, it will always come back to food.  That is what makes me unique as a food blogger, I think.  That there is food, with a side of life.  Crazy, insane, off the wall life.  As seen through my highly distorted kaleidoscope colored glasses.

And so for my first challenge, I give you risotto, one of those dishes that I make when I aim to impress.  It is deceptively easy to put together, aside from the intense stirring action required, and something that people never seem to think you can accomplish at home.

This wouldn't be an accurate representation of me without an orange vegetable and a twist, however.  And so we have sweet potato risotto.  But not the kind that you would expect, paired with the fall flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg and a touch of maple syrup (although wouldn't that be just dreamy).  No, no, no.  I have to keep you on your toes!  This risotto is all shook up with some south of the border flavor.  Sweetness from the sweet potatoes, spice from the chipotles and chili powder, tangy from the lime juice, salty from the cotija.  It's a veritable smorgasboard of flavor.  One that will keep you coming back for more.  Bite after bite.  Post after post.  Ridiculous after ridiculous.



Mexican Sweet Potato Risotto
Serves 4, an Eats Well With Others original

3 sweet potatoes, or about 1 1/2 lb
4 cups vegetable/chicken broth + 4 cups water
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, diced
12 oz arborio rice
1 chipotle in adobo, minced
2 tbsp adobo sauce
1 tsp hot chile powder
1 tsp cumin
Juice from 1/2 lime
salt and black pepper, to taste
cotija cheese, freshly grated

1.  Roast the sweet potatoes at 400 degrees for 45 minutes to an hour, or until fork tender.  Let them cool so that they can be touched, then cut them in half and scrape the insides out into a bowl.  Mash with a potato masher.

2. Bring 4 cups vegetable or chicken broth plus 4 cups water to a simmer.  Add 1/4-1/2 cup of this mixture to the potatoes so that they have a looser consistency and will blend better into the risotto.

3. As the broth/water is getting to a simmer, head 1 tbsp olive oil in a nonstick skillet over medium heat.  Add the onion into the pan and saute for 3-4 minutes or until translucent.  Add the rice to the skillet and saute for one minutes, stirring constantly so it doesn't burn.  Add in the chipotle pepper and adobo sauce.  Stir.

4.  Pour the broth/water mixture into the rice in 1/2 cup-ish increments, stirring continuously, and only adding the next half cup after the previous one has almost evaporated.  Keep doing this until the arborio rice is just about al dente.  Add the sweet potato mash to this mixture, stirring it in until it is fully incorporated.  Add the cumin and chile powder.  Mix in.  Add the lime juice and salt/pepper to taste.

5.  Ladle into four bowls. Grate some cotija cheese on top of each bowl.

I am submitting this to Hearth and Soul!

Cannellini Beans with Fresh Basil, Tomatoes, Capers and Zucchini over Polenta

A few weeks ago, I received a bit of news regarding my "relationship status".

Or, to be more specific, the lack thereof.



Apparently, studies have been done.  Real, serious, hard and fast studies.  With statistics and "real people" (who are not "actors" and whose "results may or may not be typical") and "29 dimensions of compatibility".

The whole shebang.




The good news is that I now have a scapegoat on whom I can blame all of my misfortune in the love department.

The bad news is that this whole thing is entirely out of my hands.  It is what it is.  Kind of a deal.

What in the world am I talking about, you ask?

You see.  Studies were done recently that looked into the statistics of dating websites.  These things are apparently rife with anthropologic data.  They are basically one huge semi-controlled social experiment in which you kind of sort of throw people into a ring, let them fight it out, and then see who prevails in the end.  Who gets alpha male status.  That kind of thing.

And what they found was that, while we think love is based on personality and chemistry and sex appeal and how much of an ass someone is.  What it really comes down to.

Is what smart phone you use.

Statistics, real hard fast serious statistics, have shown that iPhone users are luckier in love than Android users.  Android users get more play than Blackberry-ers.  And if you don't have a smart phone?  Um.  Well. I hate to tell you this, but you don't exist.  You cannot pass go, collect 200 dollars, or make it in world of online dating.  Sorry. I  don't make the rules, I just live by them.



Upon hearing this, I could have had many reactions.  I could have been angry because it means that all this time I have spent culturing my wit and charm and sass.  Was for naught when I could have saved myself some time and energy and just bought an iPhone.

I could have been sad because I will never be an iPhone user.  I'm just not an iPhone kind of gal.  Which means there must be some intrinsic quality that is directly correlated with being an iPhone user.  That I lack.  A personality flaw that I cannot even begin to pinpoint.  (I guess I could do some case controlled studies.  But that seems excessive.) 

No.  Instead, I decided to just embrace my Android.  And my single lady status.  And make some single lady food.  While dancing around my apartment to Beyonce.  And doing the single lady dance.



Cannellini Beans with Fresh Basil, Tomatoes, Capers, and Zucchini over Polenta
Serves 4-5, an Eats Well With Others original

1 cup dried cannellini beans or 2 (14 oz) cans
water and lots of it
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
4 medium zucchini or summer squash or a mix, diced
1 28 oz can whole peeled tomatoes
2 tbsp capers
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp red pepper flakes (or more to taste)
1/2 cup basil, shredded
2 cups polenta
8 cups water
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. If using dried beans, soak them overnight so that they are completely covered in water.  Drain them the next day and cook for 30 minutes to 2 hours depending on your beans, or until soft.

2. Chop up all your veggies.  In a medium, non-stick skillet, heat the olive oil.  Add in the onion and cook over medium-high heat until just starting to brown and soften, about 3 minutes.  Add in the garlic and cook for 30 seconds or until fragrant.

3. Add the zucchini to the pan.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until zucchini begins to soften, 5-6 minutes.  Add in the tomatoes, which you should SQUISH to break apart as you add them (use your hands.  It's fun.), beans, capers, balsamic vinegar, red pepper flakes and basil.  Bring to a boil and then simmer while you make the polenta.

4. I used instant polenta so this took me not very long to do, but you should cook according to the package's instructions.  Bring 6 cups of the water to a boil.  While this is happening, mix the polenta with the remaining 2 cups of water so that it forms a slurry.  When the 6 cups are boiling, pour in the polenta slurry.  Turn the heat to low and stir continuously for about 3-5 minutes or until polenta has thickened to desired consistency.  Turn off the heat and add about 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese, as well as salt and pepper to taste.  Spoon into serving bowls.

5. Taste the cannellini ragout for salt, pepper, and seasoning.  Spoon on top of the polenta.  Garnish with basil and serve.

I am submitting this to Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted by Anna of Anna's Cool Finds and My Legume Love Affair, which is being hosted by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook.  And Meatless Mondays, hosted over at My Sweet and Savory!