What We've Been Cooking

The beginnings of Pasta with Caramelized Onions, Chiles, Mushrooms, and Bacon

Remember all of that time we were absent? Well, we did do some cooking then, and I wanted to share some of the recipes we've enjoyed in the past few months.

Diana Kennedy's Carnitas - Before there was Bobby Flay or Rick Bayless, Diana Kennedy taught my mother's generation what Mexican food was all about. Her recipes are clearly written and deceptively simple. These carnitas are amazing - we glazed them with a bit of lime and brown sugar, served them at our holiday party, and watched them disappear.

Fennel Gratin - I have been making this for the past two winters, and I keep meaning to post about it here. While anything slathered in cream and roasted is bound to be pretty good, this really goes above and beyond. It has been known to convert many a fennel-hater to the dark side.

Pear Soup with Blue Cheese and Bacon - This soup is seriously awesome. It is however, seriously more awesome if you make it with celeriac instead of the potatoes. The celeriac runs perfect counter to the sweetness of the pears. We served this as a first course for a dinner party - we passed the blue cheese around the table so people could add as much or as little as they liked.

Italian Sausage and Kale Gratin - LATimes's best recipe of the year, this is certainly rich and undeniably satisfying. What I really liked about this dish was that it's a great new way to incorporate kale, which I so often just end up sauteeing or stewing. For a lighter version of this dish, try substituting white beans for the sausage (be sure the beans are firm-tender, not mushy).

Dal with Poached Eggs, Cilantro, and Yogurt - Think of this more as a guideline than a recipe, but this is exactly the sort of thing I love to make for a quick weeknight dinner. Plus, Paul is an excellent egg poacher, and I'll eat almost anything with yogurt on top of it. This works with yellow, orange, or red lentils.

Remembering Anthony Shadid

I wanted to take a moment today to remember Anthony Shadid, who died yesterday while reporting in Syria. I always told people Anthony Shadid was my idol, and I absolutely meant it. For the better part of the past ten years I, like many people, have sought out his byline in the Post or the Times. I remember always being disappointed when I opened the paper to find that, after Shadid had written a series of articles on Cairo or Syria or Baghdad, that another reporter had taken over the beat, Shadid was already off digging for next story. No one could capture the personal stories, the nuance of religion, sect, tribe, the mix of history and modernity that is the Middle East.

Shadid had a unique ability to tell the stories of daily Arab life with dignity and accuracy, so seldom found in Western media. More than anything, Shadid's adherence to old-school style journalism, to the story above all else, to real reporting, struck a particular chord with me. Someone remarked that it is so tragic because he was so young. No, I said, it is tragic because he represented to so many of us a better version of what the world could be.

Everyone I know working in Middle Eastern studies or journalism has remarked on how strongly they feel his loss. There is something about the power of his writing that makes his loss feel so personal to anyone who knew his work.

Tunisia's Islamists Test Ideas Decades in the Making

In Assad's Syria, There is No Imagination (anyone who cites Lisa Wedeen in an article is a rockstar)

Baghdad College and America's Shifting Role in Iraq

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What To Do with Summer

Well, first you eat it. All the summer peaches and corn on the cob and tomatoes and the last of the lettuce in your garden that is wilting in the heat, you eat all that you can. And then when you're done with that, when you've abundantly bought too many things at the market, when your table groans with berries about to go bad, then you preserve it.

You look up every Christine Ferber strawberry jam recipe (here, here) and decide they are all too complicated and you don't have two days to spend making jam, and instead you improvise your own version. Skimming, skimming, skimming the foam off the jam as it cooks ever so slowly. Then canning and preserving for winter.



You shuck fava beans and freeze them, you make tomato sauce out of those pricey beautiful huge heirloom tomatoes, peeling them, seeding them, chopping, using an old Marcella Hazan recipe. And in the end you discover it tastes like .... tomato sauce.



Sour cherries are available about 4% of the year (yes, I calculated) and so you buy up all you can, and then you spend so long pitting sour cherries and listening to pod casts that you get a neck cramp. Paul would advise you that sour cherry pie is the "the best thing ever," but I also like sour cherries in savory things like rice pilaf and kebabs.



And speaking of preserving, this little piece via the New Yorker just lit up my day. The title alone is great: Suicide in the Garden, Murder in the Kitchen.

It's funny how some of the things I've been making are so vibrantly flavored that they almost taste fake--the strawberries so intense they almost taste like imitation flavoring, tomatoes so naturally sweet without any added sugar. Has anyone else noticed this? Back soon with a recipe....

Two Fun Videos and Scenes from the Farmers Market

First of all, I discovered this cool video of making the Syrian pastry Ghazal al-Binat:



Ghazal al-Binat literally means the flirtation of girls (also a famous Egyptian film), and it's kind of like candy floss-- thin ethereal whipped threads that melt in your mouth-- stuffed with a sweet pistachio filling.

Check out Andrew Zimmerman tasting Syria. Okay, so the script is a little, umm, dumb-American sounding, but it's a nice intro into some of the weirder foods of Syria, and a flattering portrayal of the Syrian people (which is quite accurate!).

Also, hello, Foreign Policy has a food issue! People after my heart. I highly recommend this piece, "Eat, Drink, Protest."

In more local news, growing my own mache lettuce:


Beautiful early summer market produce:




if only my nasturtiums ever looked like this:


Happy summer everyone!

Ingredient Spotlight: Shirsh el-Halaweh

The first few weeks of spring always seem to be busy ones. Everyone at work has finally realized it's no longer holiday break nor summer vacation and my calendar is suddenly packed. It's a good time to visit family and see the first blue bonnets spring in Texas. It's warm enough to clean up the yard and my seedlings (beets, mache, parsley, penstamon, nastrutium, spinach) are growing rapidly.

We also have a few new additions to the Desert Candy kitchen. Today we're talking about shirsh el-halaweh, also known as soapwort root or bois de panama. The guy in the spice shop held the root up and asked, with a puzzled expression, "is for cooking, no?"

Yes, indeed it is. The root is used to make a marshmallowy white foam called natef. It's very thick and creamy and almost like marshmallows. Natef can be used for all kinds of desserts but its most common usage is for a cookie called karabeej, which is dipped in natef cream. To make the cream the root is washed and boiled in water, then the root is discarded and the water is whipped into a thick foam sweetened with sugar. Stay tuned for a recipe.

Egypt, It is Coming

Ya Misr Hani'

"A tyrant only exists in the imagination of his subjects."

An inspiring reminder of the role of poetry in many Arab revolutions. Of a culture whose poetry slam contest reaches the celebrity level of American Idol. And in memory of Mahmoud Darwish, who taught that giving voice to struggle can be as powerful as any weapon.

Someone asked my opinion on recent events, and while I have many things to say (most of which are quite excited about the changes going on), I don't feel this is the appropriate forum. Besides, I have complex Middle East discussions everyday, and this is where I come for a bit of enjoyment, and I hope everyone who reads this blog, no matter what background or persuasion, can find something they enjoy.

Dinner, at Least

My goodness, has it been so long? I certainly did not mean to leave you for over a week without a recipe. It seems I’ve been spending most of my time at work lately, and while I truly love my job, too much time behind a computer screen makes me less inclined to want to face one during my time off. But I’ve actually missed you all in a funny sort of way, like extended guests at my own little table.

I’m afraid what I have to offer you as consulation isn’t anything that’s unique or innovative or something you haven’t seen before. It did, however, make up my much-deserved late night dinner twice this week, and is perhaps one of the better quintessential spring-time dinners I can think of. Best of all the whole thing is ready in about twenty minutes start-to-finish.

Roast asparagus is probably one of my quintessntial spring time dishes. Just like I eat plate after plate of tomatoes in summer and butternut squash in fall, I make roast asparagus for weeks on end when the weather finally warms up. I really never tire of it. Sure, you can dress the asparagus up with splash of balsmaic vinegar or a bit of lemon zest or the tiniest shavings of cheese, but I’m perfectly happy with just good old plain. Sometimes I make roast aspragaus sandwiches with just a smear of spreadable goat cheese and toasted sourdough bread.

The other part of my favorite spring dinner is a soft shelled crab, pan fried. I am lucky enough to live somewhere with access to local fresh seafood and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. I’m a recent convert to soft-shells, though my mom always ate them I only first tried them about a year-ago. But now I love them, and those little crunchy fried legs, they’re my favorite part.

So there you have it, I will offer you dinner at least. But not to worry, I picked up the latest copy of Marth Stewart while traveling this week and there’s an article on pies that I’m dying to tackle. I’ll let you know how it goes.


Roast Asparagus
Preheat the oven to 425 F. Wash asparagus and snap off the woody ends. Drizzle some olive oil on a baking sheet and roll the asparagus around to coat. Sprinkle with salt. Roast in the center of the oven for about 12 minutes, shaking the pan once or twice to ensure even cooking. Time may vary slightly depending how thick/thin your spears are. Serve, with a squeeze of lemon juice, if desired. (You can also use the same process to make roast green beans, time will be closer to 18-20 minutes.)

Pan-Fried Soft Shelled Crab
Your fish monger should have prepared the crabs by removing the lungs and eyes. I like to also reach under the shell and scrape out the yellow tomalley. Get two shallow plates, place a couple spoonfuls of plain yogurt in one and thin it with some water until it is the consistency of cream (you could also use buttermilk, but I'm more likely to have yogurt on hand). Place equal amounts flour and cornmeal in the other plate and season with some salt and red pepper. Heat about half an inch of oil in a cast iron skillet. Dredge crabs in yogurt, then in flour mixture. Add crabs to hot oil, pan fry about 3 minutes on each side, until golden. Drain on paper towels, serve immedately.

Spring, Sprang, Sprung

Dupont Circle Farmers Market, Washington, D.C.

Postcard: Spring Preview

Strawberry and White Asparagus Salad
Though I suspect the berries and asparagus I got from my local market were hothouse grown, they were a hopeful reflection of all the tulips and daffodils popping up around town, signs that spring really is here. Make sure to peel the bottom half of white asparagus otherwise the stems will be tough. Combine with mixed greens, berries, a simple dressing and a good cracking of black pepper. A sprinkling of goat cheese is nice if you like.

Where I Come From

These are my people. This is where I come from. Sometimes it's good to remember where you come from, even if you never lived there, even if it's only where your mother grew up. Roots, deep, buried. So deep, sometimes we forget them. Even if you know you'll never live there, if you don't fit in there, if it's different than your memories have painted it. It's good to hear the accents, the drawl that can turn "bill" into a three-syllable word. Bi-iieee-uulll. The rocky landscape and the mountain springs, the smell of barbeque, the taste of country ham and biscuits, sorghum syrup, tomato aspic and green beans cooked all day long with a bit of fatback.


With all the wonderful gifts this year, the fancy phone, the camera lenses, backup hard drives, more books than I could dream of (yes, I was truly spoiled), it was a little teacup wrapped in tissue paper that brought tears to my eyes. The gift of my Grandmother's china set, bequethed from my aunt, the antique cream soup bowls with their delicate double handles that speak of responsibility and roots. I promise I'll give them the care they deserve.



We fed the horses and the burrow, played with the dogs and were entertained by a four-year-old on the trombone. We drove through towns with names like Lebanon, Smyrna, and Carthage, New World versions of Old World titles. I told my cousins about how I went to the original Smyrna, Ismir, in southern Turkey; they looked at me like I was crazy. We ate caramel cake and fought over the Sunday crossword puzzle while sitting by the fireplace. It's good for a city girl to get her boots muddy sometimes. I hope your holidays were as enriching, belly-filling, and relaxing as ours. We're looking forward to the new year!


Grapefruit, Avocado, Pomegranate Salad
Every year my uncle sends us a whole crate of Texas pink grapefruit and so begins our annual quest to use all 18 of them before they go bad. The one thing they are destined for is this salad with avocado and pomegranate seeds that my Grandmother always made around the holidays. In our family it's simply thought of as "the Christmas salad."

1 large pink grapefruit
1 large ripe avocado, peeled and sliced
mache or butter lettuce, about 6 cups
1 cup pomegranate seeds
3 tablespoons champagne vinegar
3 tablespoons olive oil
pinch salt

1. Section the grapefruit: Cut off the peel from the top and bottom of the grapefruit. Working from top to bottom, remove the peel and pith in strips, so that the grapefruit flesh in completely exposed. Discard peel and any white pith. Working over a bowl, use your knife to cut between the white membrane so that the grapefruit flesh is released into the bowl in sections. Squeeze juice from remaining flesh and discard.
2. Get another large bowl and whisk together the vinegar, oil, and salt in the bottom. Toss the lettuces in the bowl to coat. Divide lettuces among four serving plates or leave in the bowl. Arrange grapefruit sections and avocado over lettuces. Sprinkle pomegranate seeds over salad. Serve immediately.

Reminder

Note to self: Cheese should be served at room temperature.

I'm not much of a cheese eater, despite the fact that pretty much everyone else around me can be found digging wedges of stinky Epoisses or cutting hunks of Cotswold before and after the dinner hour. Me, I occasionally have a sprinkling of cheese as an accent in salad, but for some reason last week I found myself craving big hunks of fermented dairy products. Wheels of brie and camembert, carrying the odors of sweet lettuces from spring's milk, are just ripening to perfection around now. Which brings me to the reminder: cheese should be served at room temperature so it oozes perfectly across the plate. Not I-took-it-out-of-the-fridge-five-minutes-ago and not baked in one of those pastry cases. I usually set mine out an hour to half an hour before serving. We had this Camembert with thin slices of baguette and some leftover cranberry-orange chutney. Delicious.

Weekend Gardening Report

We've been working in a neighbor's garden- lots of overgrown basil. With the first frost imminent, we're putting out own garden to bed- cutting down, mulching. I took out the peppers, eggplant, and tomatoes and now we've got nearly 10 lbs of green tomatoes! Lots of tomatillos, too. Kale, broccoli, and beets are still going strong. The mesclun box has mustard, tatsoi, and 2 kinds of arugula. Don't be surprised if you see some green tomato recipes around here soon!

Postcard from Lunch

Dragon fruit (pitaya). So pretty, I just had to share it. I also had some grapes, blue cheese, and crackers. Highlight of an otherwise banal Tuesday.