I was born and raised in Kansas and learned to cook alongside my mother. Now, along with my wonderful husband, I have taken the plunge into the city life in New York. These are my food adventures: in my own tiny kitchen, and in the many restaurants of the city.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Kale Caesar Salad

I am in overdrive today, nearing full-on panic mode. I have a long list of things to get accomplished yet can't seem to get myself focused long enough to complete a task. The facts that I'm dealing with a cold and my computer decided to take a trip to tech repair today aren't helping.

The big thing that's on my plate? I am leaving NYC tomorrow morning for Renssellaerville, NY to participate in the internship program with the Longhouse Food Revival. Basically I will be working with Molly O'Neill and other brilliant food media minds to create documentaries, photo slide shows, radio programming, a magazine and other content to be featured at this year's Revival, all while cooking, farming, and learning alongside my fellow interns. I am ecstatic to take on this opportunity. Plus I get the added benefit of getting out of New York City for most of the month of August. Leaving the sweltering subways, tourist filled streets and job behind for the clean air of a small town. The only downside I see is leaving the husband behind. It's been years since we've been separated for so long and I know that it will be difficult to get through the weeks without my best friend by my side.

I also will probably not have too much time to keep up with this blog while I am away, so for now I say farewell--for just a few weeks! If I get the opportunity I will update you on the adventures on the farm, but otherwise I will see you come September. Hope you all have a lovely end-of-summer and can take your own adventures to return refreshed. I leave you with one more recipe for the road: a simple Caesar salad made hearty enough for a full summer meal with the substitution of kale in place of romaine.


Kale Caesar Salad
serves 3-4
1 large bundle of kale (about 5-6 cups)
2 c. cubed French bread
2 TB butter
1/2 t. seasoned salt
pinch of garlic salt
5 anchovy fillets
2 cloves garlic
juice of 1 1/2 lemons (about 1/3 c.)
2 t. Dijon mustard
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
1/4 c. olive oil
grated Parmesan cheese

Remove the tough stems from the kale and tear into large pieces. Wash well to remove grit and dirt and then dry.

To make the croutons heat the butter in a saute pan over medium. Add the cubed bread, seasoned salt and garlic powder. Toss constantly until the bread has become crispy all over. Remove to a paper towel lined plate.

Make the dressing by placing the anchovies, garlic, lemon juice, and Dijon mustard in a medium bowl and crushing all together with a pestle or the back of a fork. Slowly whisk in the extra virgin olive oil and the regular olive oil until emulsified. Taste and add salt and pepper as necessary.

Toss the kale with the dressing. Get your hands in there and massage the dressing into the leaves, helping to tenderize them, for about 2 minutes (you should feel with the texture of the kale changes slightly and this is when you know it is ready). Toss with the Parmesan cheese and croutons to serve.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Corn Soup

The husband and I just got back from a wonderful few days visiting the mother-in-law in Albuquerque. We spent the days exploring Santa Fe, hiking through the tent rocks, basking in the magnificent views. Nights were passed lounging with wine and conversation, often on the back patio with a fire burning and the stars twinkling above. What a relief to step out of the overbearing heat of NYC for a few days and feel the calming effects of open air and uber-friendly strangers.

Now we are back to the grind and the close to 100 degree temps that are making New York even more difficult to handle this week. Luckily I can still throw together a simple dinner to be shared with Joe at our dinner table that lends itself to lingering over discussions of our days and helps us remember to slow down a bit.

This soup takes full advantage of summer at its best: peak in-season corn lends a sweetness that you won't get from it at any other time of year. Chopped scallions can add some bite, a drizzle of parsley oil or pesto an added freshness, and a dollop of creme fraiche brings it all together with a tangy note on your tongue.


Corn Soup
about 3 servings
3 large ears of sweet corn
2 TB butter
1 TB olive oil
1 medium shallot, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
2 c. chicken or vegetable stock
1 1/2 c. heavy cream
salt and pepper

optional:
pesto
parsley oil
creme fraiche
scallions

Slice the kernels off the ears of corn, reserving as much of the liquid as possible (sometimes it's easier to do this by slicing off the kernels inside a large bowl).
Heat the butter and olive oil in a large soup pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add the shallot and cook until transparent, about 4-5 minutes. Add the garlic and stir for about a minute then stir in the corn and its juices for 3-4 minutes. Pour in the stock and the heavy cream, bring to a simmer and stir occasionally for about 15 minutes to meld all of the flavors.
Remove from the heat and use an immersion blender to puree the soup. Then pass through a fine mesh sieve to remove the solids, pressing down to make sure to get all of the juices out. Return the strained soup to the stove, heat through, and add salt and pepper to taste.
I garnished ours with a ramp pesto thinned with extra virgin olive oil and a dollop of creme fraiche, but parsley oil, regular pesto, or chopped scallions would be just as nice.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Fava Bean and Shitake Saute

Growing up in small-town Kansas I knew all of my neighbors. They all knew me. They all knew all of my business (and weren't afraid to tell my parents that business even when I thought it should be private, such as when they saw me kissing a boy who dropped me off after school). I always imagined that part of the draw of moving to New York City would be not knowing the neighbors. Being able to live in a private bubble of sorts without gossip-catching eyes following me around. Being able to come and go without stopping for long bouts of small talk.

Imagine my surprise then, when last week I ran into some of my neighbors who were finishing loading the moving truck to head back to the Midwest to be near family and open a restaurant and my heart cracked a little, feeling pain at the loss of those familiar faces down the hall.

I'm not sure where the change started, perhaps it is a little bit growing older, a little bit about the fact that we've lived in the same apartment for more than four years and feel a deep love for our neighborhood and the community that is building around it. Over the years we constantly bump into the same people over and over again. You learn the names of those on a similar schedule as you or who shop at the same stores. With Lindsay and Derek (and their two cute sons), the ones who just moved away, we met on Thanksgiving a few years ago when they were moving into their apartment on our floor during the holiday so I couldn't resist inviting them to join our gathering.

We were never especially close: we always talked about making time for drinks or exchanging batches of homemade ice cream.  Life and work ate up time and left months slipping away without a meet-up, but it was always reassuring knowing that if we were in need of something there were friends down the hall. The little boys' laughter floating through our front door as they scooted towards the elevator never failed to bring a smile to my face. Lindsay always seemed happy to see me when we crossed on my way to work and her way home. These neighborly pleasantries will be missed.

Of course we know other families and individuals on the floor and in our building and we even met the new tenant moving into Derek and Lindsay's place just days after they left. Our little community will shift and change as time edges on, but now I appreciate and look forward to being part of my building mates' lives and having them as part of mine.

This fava bean and shitake saute would welcome any neighbor for a friendly meal. You could share the labor of shelling the fava beans and trimming the mushrooms. By using the plastic wrap method of poaching eggs there's no need to spend too much time by the stove, cooking them all at once instead of one at a time, leaving more time to get to know one another.


Fava Bean and Shitake Saute
serves 3-4
2 lbs. fresh fava bean pods
1 lb. shitake mushrooms
1 TB baking powder
2 TB butter
1/2 t. salt
1/4 t. pepper
4 eggs, poached*

Shell the fava beans. Then peel the skins from the individual beans. A simple way to do this is to bring a large pot of water to a boil and add 1 TB baking soda. Add the shelled fava beans and boil until the skins split, about 2 minutes. Then drain the beans and place into an ice bath for a couple of minutes. You should now be able to just squeeze the beans quickly and easily out of their shells.

Remove the stems from the shitake mushrooms and discard. If the caps are large, cut into half inch slices. Heat a large, heavy bottomed skillet over high, add the butter and once melted toss in the shitake caps. Once slightly browned and cooked through add the fava beans to toss for about 30 seconds. Stir in the salt and pepper. Place on a platter and top with the poached eggs to serve.

*The plastic wrap method of poaching eggs is a great one when you need multiple eggs at one time. Here' a video how-to from Chow.


Thursday, July 4, 2013

Chamomile and Lavender Ice Cream

Happy Fourth of July! Hope you are all out enjoying the day with your friends and family.

With the hot and steamy summer days upon us I wanted to bring you a cool and refreshing treat. This ice cream is light and just barely floral. It's not weighed down with heavy flavors, keeping it perfect for those days you are dripping with sweat.


Chamomile and Lavender Ice Cream
Makes 1 quart
1 1/2 c. half and half
1 1/2 c. heavy cream
1/2 c. honey
1/3 c. sugar
1 bunch fresh chamomile (cleaned and the tough ends trimmed)
1/4 c. dried lavender
1 t. vanilla extract
1 TB rum

Mix the half and half, cream, honey, and sugar together in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium, stirring constantly, until the temperature of the mixture reaches 170 degrees. Remove from heat and stir in the chamomile, lavender, vanilla extract, and rum. Allow to steep and cool for about 30 minutes, then strain and refrigerate for 5-8 hours.
Mix the cream according to your ice cream maker's instructions.