In Praise of Quinoa - Chickpea & Quinoa Salad

My friend Denise called me out for neglecting this little blog. She's right, I have no excuse! I'm a rather pathetic blogger as of late. And the truth is, I've been returning again and again to old familiar standbys. Fresh tomato sauce over whole wheat pasta, salads with lemony dressings and lots of cucumber, simple roasted vegetables, and lots of help from the Trader Joe's frozen foods aisle.

It's true that things have been fairly busy lately with work. I've added pilates a couple times a week to the schedule, and with the days getting shorter, I feel worn out at the end of it all, and I haven't been inspired to tackle a new dish.

I think I'll start to feel that inspiration again with the turn of the season. More dinners eaten at the dining room table, with candles and music instead of the latest episode of Breaking Bad on the TV (though it will still be watched, so good!) And, a more concentrated effort to eat healthier. Smaller portions and more vegetables and grains. I'm trying to be much better about this, more conscious of what goes into my body, and less mindless eating of the things I don't need, or really even want. I'm sure we could all be better about this, but I think I'm going to need a bit of support and camaraderie in this effort. Any of you have any tips and tricks for healthy eating and meal planning? Maybe if you wouldn't mind sharing some of your favorite healthy recipes, it would inspire me to give them a try. I'd love some suggestions!

We've made a couple of changes so far: we've switched completely to whole-wheat pasta. I thought I'd never get used it it, but after a month, I crave it, and I've hardly missed white flour pasta. Sourdough bread is now a once in awhile treat, and whole-wheat has come to stay. Trying to cut out as much white flour and sugar as possible. I'm still looking for that perfect pizza dough recipe using whole wheat flour. That's tricky, it seems.

So here's a quick salad I threw together yesterday in the midst of an afternoon of errands. Healthy and quick, I just cooked the quinoa and tossed all the ingredients together. It had enough fiber and protein to keep me sated from noon until 6pm. Not bad!

Apologies for the lack of pictures. This was gobbled up before I got a chance.

Chickpea & Quinoa Salad

Serves 8

• 2 cups cooked quinoa, cooled
• 1½ cups cooked chickpeas or canned
• 2 green onions, chopped
• 2 tomatoes, chopped
• 1 cucumber, chopped
• 1/2 cup fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 1/2 cup fresh basil, finely chopped
• 1/4 cup fresh mint, finely chopped
• Baby Spinach (you can chop a couple cups and use it fresh, or use an entire bag by wilting it in a saucepan with a bit of olive oil over low heat)

Dressing

• 2 tbsp Dijon Mustard
• 3 tbsp olive oil
• the juice and zest of 2 lemons
• ½ tsp salt
• ¼ tsp black pepper
• 1 tsp honey

In a large bowl, combine the quinoa through the mint, toss together. In a smaller bowl, combine all the ingredients for the dressing, and whisk together with a fork. Pour over the salad, and toss, coating the salad. Taste for seasoning, serve while still warm.

Add the dressing to the salad and stir well.

Recovery - Chana Masala

I'm currently in recovery from a meal.

It's not what you might think. Certainly nothing bad or upsetting. This is the good kind of recovery. The kind that comes from delicious food, wonderful company and a bit (just a bit) of over-indulgence.

Guilty as charged.

As a belated birthday gift, Leah and Brian gave me the gift every food-obsessed person dreams of. The gift of Thomas Kellar. A trip to his restaurant Ad Hoc in Napa. The Ad Hoc of fried chicken fame. It's a family style restaurant that specializes in comfort food. I've wanted to go for years.

We decided to make a weekend of it, squeezing in a lovely hotel and a fantastic day of wine tasting prior to dinner. I planned ahead, and did my best to keep my stomach empty (except for wine of course) on the day of the dinner. A small breakfast, some tahbouli for lunch, and that was it. I wanted to have plenty of room.

In retrospect, I should have skipped all food prior on the day of. What came to the dinner table was a salad of French Laundry garden greens with green garlic dressing, radishes and torn croutons, fresh bread, Seared Pork Belly with Tomato Marmalade and a perfectly Poached Egg, Pork Rack with figs, potatoes and jus, a cheese course of Nicasio Valley cheese with Red Pepper jelly, and Panna Cotta with macerated Strawberries and Shortbread Twill.

Oh, did I mention the wine pairing for each course?

As I said. I'm in recovery.

We left the table having consumed nearly an entire pig. Stuffed. We practically rolled back to the hotel. My stomach hasn't quite recovered.

It was an amazing meal.

As part of my recovery efforts, I'm trying to stick to a couple weeks of mainly vegetarian cooking. Whole grains, vegetables and fruits. In that vein, I decided to break out what's been a recent favorite in my kitchen. Chana Masala. Something I attempted a few weeks ago, and was amazed to discover, is incredibly easy to make. It helps that it's both healthy, and extremely flavorful.

It was the first dish I cooked in my new apartment. And now it feels like home. I serve it over rice with some cucumber mint Raita on the side. Maybe some Naan if I feel like it. It's served as a great reminder that I need to incorporate more spices into my cooking. Be a little more adventurous, and not just stick with garlic and lemon (like I most often do). Just a hint of spice can really transform a dish and seem to heighten your skills as a cook. You'll be amazed at how quickly it comes together, and how delicious it tastes.


Chana Masala
adapted from Orangette

olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3-4 medium cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp ground coriander
1/2 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp garam masala
4 cardamom pods, lightly crushed
1 28-ounce can diced or whole peeled tomatoes
1 tsp kosher salt, or to taste
1 tbs cilantro leaves, roughly torn, plus more for garnish
A pinch of cayenne, or to taste
2 15-ounce cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
6-8 tbs plain yogurt, optional
lemon wedges, optional

Coat the bottom of a saute pan or dutch oven with olive oil. Heat to medium. Add the onions and sautee slowly until they start to carmelize. Stir occassionally, but leave them alone from time to time to really set. This will take 25-30 minutes, maybe more. You're looking for a dark caramel color. The onions should even be charred in some spots. This is what will develop the flavor, so have patience and courage to let them do their thing in the pan!

Once the onions are caramelized, reduce the heat to low and add the garlic. If the pan is a bit dry, add a bit more olive oil. Sautee for 30 seconds until fragrant. Add the spices (cumin through cardamom seeds) and fry in the pan, stirring constantly for another 30 seconds. Add 1/4 cup of water to deglaze the pan and loosen any of the browning and flavor from the bottom. Sautee until the water has evaporated. Add the juice from the tomatoes, and then the tomatoes themselves. If the tomatoes are whole, crush with a fork in the pan. Add salt.

Increase the heat to medium, and let the pot come to a boil. Once it begins to boil, reduce heat to low, add the cilantro and cayenne to taste. Simmer the sauce gently, stirring occasionally until it starts to reduce and thicken. Taste, and adjust the seasoning to your preference. Add the chickpeas, stirring well and cook for low for another 5 minutes. Add 2 tbsp of water and cook another 5 minutes. Repeat once more, making sure the water is absorbed. This helps to concentrate the flavor and make the chickpeas more tender. Taste again for seasoning.

Turn off the heat. Stir in the cilantro and yogurt. Serve over rice with Raita and lemon.

Coming 'Round - Cream of Cauliflower Soup

I kept the sickness at bay for a good couple of days, enough so that I could enjoy beer with friends, the farmer's market and the long awaited Arcade Fire concert at the Berkeley Greek. Finally, this morning, it caught up with me. The aching neck and aching bones wouldn't be denied. There was only one thing to do: make a big pot of comforting soup and climb into bed.

And so I thumbed through the Ad Hoc at Home cookbook, and stopped on the Cream of Cauliflower soup recipe. It just sounded right; rich and velvety, comfort in a bowl. It doesn't matter if you're not exactly crazy about cauliflower, you will love this soup. It's just rich and creamy goodness. So good, it made me forget my aching bones for awhile. It came together easily, and made my apartment smell amazing. It's the perfect thing for a brisk fall day. Outside, the wind has picked up, and the leaves are swirling around in the street. The fog is low, and slowly rolling in from the other side of the bay. You can smell fall in the air. It's arrived. And this soup is the perfect greeting for it.

I've really come around to fall. I've pulled out the back issues of gourmet and am spending some time going over the best of the season, marking the recipes I have yet to make, and being reminded of a few old favorites that I haven't made in a year or so. I'm feeling good about it. As long as the next recipes live up to the standard this one has set, I think the transition will continue to go well.




Cream of Cauliflower Soup
adapted from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home

2 heads of cauliflower (4-5 lbs)
4 tbsp unsalted butter
2/4 cup coarsely chopped onion
3/4 cup coarsely chopped leeks (white and light green parts only)
1/4 tsp yellow curry powder, or madras curry powder
Kosher salt
2 cups milk
2 cups heavy cream
2 cups water

Remove the leaves from the cauliflower and cut out the core. Trim the stems and reserve them. For the garnish, trim 2 cups florets about the size of the quarter and set aside.

Coarsely chop the cauliflower and the stems into 1 inch pieces. Melt 3 tbsp of the butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onions, leeks, curry, 2 tsp salt, and cauliflower. Cover with a piece of parchment paper, cut into a circle with a small hole in the middle. This acts as a parchment lid for steaming the cauliflower. Cook, stirring occasionally until the vegetables are almost tender, about 20 minutes. Remove and discard parchment lid.

Pour in milk, cream and water, and increase heat to medium-high, bring to a simmer, and simmer for 30 minutes, skimming off the foam from time to time.

Using a hand-mixer (or a blender in batches) puree the cauliflower on the lowest speed, slowly increase until the consistency becomes smooth and velvety. Check for seasoning and adjust if needed. Transfer to a large saucepan and keep warm.

Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to boil. Add the vinegar and the reserved cauliflower florets and blanch until tender, 4-6 minutes. The vinegar will help keep the cauliflower white. Drain.

Melt the remaining 1 tbsp butter in a medium frying pan over medium-high heat, swirling the pan occasionally, until the butter turns a rich golden brown. Add the florets and saute until a rich golden brown, set aside.

To serve, reheat the soup. It should be thick, but if it's took thick for your taste, add water to thin it to the desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pour soup into bowls and top with cauliflower garnish. Serve hot.

When the Tomatoes are Ripe - Tomato Basil Pasta

When August rolls around I only crave tomatoes. It seems they've been later than ever in coming around this year. But they're finally here. And that means one thing: Tomato Basil Pasta. It's my all time favorite. It tastes like summer, and it's about as perfect as a simple dish can get. My friends request it time after time. It's what I always make to impress whomever it is that is I want to impress. And it can only be made in the late summer months when each ingredient is at its very best.

It reminds me of late summer dinners on the porch, still dripping wet from our swimming pool. Of a warm Mediterranean night in Corsica when dinner started at 1opm and ended around 2am. Of a summer in Santa Cruz, cooking in the most gorgeous kitchen I've ever seen for people I loved. Of cooking for one in a stuffy studio apartment over the plaza in Ashland, Oregon with the first bottle of wine I got for free from the winery I worked at. Of a late night dinner eaten out of Tupperware in a caboose in Dunsmuir, while the rain poured and the wind howled outside, and we were on our first road trip together.

There's something about a dish that brings about that kind of nostalgia. It's comforting. And it feels important when you make it.

But be forewarned. Do not even attempt to make this dish when tomatoes are not in season. You will be sorely disappointed.

This is less of a recipe, and more of a set of guidelines. This is all about how it tastes to you. Measuring out tablespoons and teaspoons would just ruin it:

Tomato Basil Pasta

Pasta (I used fresh porcini pasta from Phoenix Pastaficio) bowtie and penne shapes are especially good for this.
good tomatoes, roughly chopped (I used 4 medium heirlooms, green, gold and red)
3-4 cloves of garlic, I mince the garlic and then create a sort of paste with the back of my knife and some kosher salt. You want the garlic to mix well with the juice of the tomatoes, almost like a salsa. If you don't make the garlic paste, mince it very finely
Basil, torn into small pieces, about 3/4 a cup to 1 cup
good extra virgin Olive Oil, a few tablespoons
Fresh Parmesan

Mix the tomatoes, basil, garlic and olive oil together. Add kosher salt to taste and let sit to sort of macerate for a half hour or so. Do not refrigerate.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of salted, boiling water, according to package directions. If you're using fresh pasta (which I recommend) this should only take a couple minutes. Drain the pasta and toss with the tomato mixture. Taste, add salt and freshly ground pepper if needed. Top with grated or shaved Parmesan. Serve and enjoy.

Russian Roulette - Grilled Padrón Peppers with Olive Oil & Sea Salt

It was naive of me to think I'd have more time to cook now that I'm working from home. Nope. Definitely not the case. The whole work from home thing has so far equaled some very, very long days. I'm quickly learning that I have to schedule things like breakfast, lunch and dinner, or I just don't get around to actually eating a meal. Now, more than ever, things will have to be scheduled, and spontaneity will be taking a back seat, for now.

The most spontaneous thing I've done this week was to buy these Padrón peppers. When 6pm rolled around I shut my computer, rose from my desk and started to heat up my grill pan for a decidedly unique dinner.

I first had these peppers as an appetizer at Pizzaiolo. I couldn't get enough of them. It's like playing Russian Roulette with these, some are hot and some are not. I can't seem to pop them in my mouth fast enough. They're the epitome of a quick dish. Just toss with olive oil and sea salt, grill and serve. Your guests will think you're very fancy.




Grilled Padrón Peppers with Olive Oil & Sea Salt

1 bunch of Padrón Peppers
enough olive oil to coat the peppers
sea salt

Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan on the stove to medium-high. Meanwhile, toss the peppers in a bowl with the olive oil and salt. The peppers will start to char and blacken after about 4 minutes or so. Keep an eye on them to gauge when to turn them with some tongs. Char on both sides. When done, transfer to a plate, add more sea salt if necessary, and serve.

Pimientos De Padron

To Eat Each Other's Cooking & Say it Was Good - Veggie Rice Bowl with Lemon Tahini Dressing

Sometimes you catch yourself, when you're giving advice to someone else...suddenly you realize that it's also the advice you should be taking. In some way, you're speaking to yourself. And it's comforting to realize that you're in the same place as the person sitting across from you. That in some way, you're in it together. You're not crazy for feeling whatever it is that you're feeling.

And I realized, it felt better. To listen, to give advice if asked, to be supportive and out of my own head and helping someone else to realize what we both already knew, because, as we all know, advice is what you ask for when you already know the answer. But we want that reassurance that we're not alone, that we're not nuts, that we're in it together and that it's not for nothing.

In the end we agreed, to be as kind to ourselves as we are to our friends. Not to judge and beat ourselves up for the process we have to go through to get to the other side of things, to come to realize what we want and deserve.

And tonight, that made sense.

I came across this picture recently...I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.




I can't remember the last time I read something that made so much sense.

Sometimes I think there are only two things you can do when you're feeling down. Enjoy dinner made by a good friend or loved one, and listen to a hell of a lot of Sinatra.




I can't remember where I stumbled across this recipe, but it's been around for awhile. If you love tahini, it's one of those recipes that just makes complete sense. Totally satisfying. Filling, lots of texture and tons of taste. I can't get enough of it. And you can feel very smug about how healthy it is. Packing in the veggies and whatnot. Fill the fridge with 'em and go through them in a day or so. Sometimes I just make a ton of the dressing and put it on everything. Seriously. Everything. Fish, chicken, your basic carrot stick. Just give me the spoon.


Veggie Rice Bowl with Lemon Tahini Dressing

4 cups white or brown rice
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
3/4 cup plain yogurt (I used non-fat)
4 tbsp tahini
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp coarse salt
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/3 cucumber, seeds removed, cut into matchsticks
1 celery stalk, cut into matchsticks
1/2 carrot, peeled and cut into matchsticks
1/2 cup chickpeas
1/4 red or yellow bell pepper, cut into strips

Cook rice according to package directions. Once cooked, put it in the refrigerator until cool.

Mix yogurt, lemon juice, garlic, salt, and cayenne together in a small bowl until well combined.

Toss rice and all vegetables together in a large bowl, serve with tahini dressing. Serve.

Requirements - Asparagus Pesto

There are so many things to like about Summer. Warm weather, picnics and BBQ's, swimming and long and lazy evenings where the sun doesn't even sink till 9. The summer road trip is another much beloved tradition. I like to do as many of these as I can throughout the summer months. This past weekend brought the inaugural trip, in which we headed to Palm Springs (more on that later) and I plan to continue the trend with two more upcoming trips. I've been hearing the siren song to get out of town, and I am more than happy to heed the call.

When preparing to get out of town, I require the following:

• Access to a fast car with a full tank of gas, preferably with air conditioning
• A well rounded supply of music, at least several good mix cd's, ipod playlists, mix tapes, whathaveyou
• Snyder's sourdough pretzels (the giant kind)
• Strong coffee and plenty of water
• A necessary pit-stop at either Granzellas Italian Deli (if headed North on the I5) or In n' Out (if traveling in California)
• A keen eye to be on the lookout for various road-side attractions (such as the Robotic Dinosaur Museum just outside of Palm Springs (again: more on that subject later))

The above is made even better when a few dear friends are thrown into the mix. But the solo road trip is not to be overlooked. It's good for the soul, for clearing one's head, and for just being still with yourself...all whilst moving 70mph.

There's not a lot of cooking going on in my studio this week. Too much going on in between trips. But I do have some leftover asparagus pesto, recipe courtesy of Mark Bittman. I ate this on crostini and in pasta, I confess I even had it straight out of the bowl in the fridge from a spoon. Pesto is something I hadn't considered making with asparagus before, but I think it's a good addition to the repertoire. Asparagus is everywhere these days, and I always seem to have an extra bunch in the fridge that requires something be done with it before I can hit the market again. I think this would be excellent served over pasta, with some roasted asparagus on top. Or, as I did, even just eaten straight off the spoon.

Asparagus Pesto
adapted from Mark Bittman

1 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1 inch pieces
3 cloves garlic (the recipe calls for 1, I love garlic and added 2, but found even that to be too mild)
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup olive oil
3/4 cups freshly grated Parmesan
juice of 1/2 lemon or more
freshly ground black pepper

Bring a pot of water to boil and salt it. Blanch the asparagus until just tender, about 6 minutes.
Drain, but reserve about 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid. Let the asparagus cool slightly.

In a food processor, combine asparagus, pine nuts, 2 tbsp of the olive oil, Parmesan, a pinch of salt, and a couple tablespoons of the cooking liquid. Process the ingredients , pausing to scrape down the mixture from the sides of the container so everything is well-combined. Gradually add the oil and a bit more of the cooking liquid to moisten, if necessary. Add the lemon juice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Pulse to combine one last time, scoop into a bowl and serve with toasted bread, pasta, chicken and/or fish.

More Adventurous - Daikon Radish Salad with Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette

When it comes to how we see ourselves, there's always the possibility of a disconnect between who we are, and who we would like to be. I would like to be a more adventurous, spontaneous person. I am in awe of people who are both of those things nearly all the time. But in reality, I know myself to be a person that is terrified of many things that might be considered adventurous. Jumping out of airplanes for example. Bungie Jumping. Anything having to do with the combination of great heights and jumping from them. Even scuba diving, which in all honesty, I would love to try someday, but the truth is, it scares me to death. I have only recently conquered my fear of snorkeling (I had issues with the idea of fish getting too close, or rather, me getting to close to them) so I'm taking this fear step by step.

When it comes to sushi, I have learned it pays to be adventurous. I know this. I've known it since I moved to the Bay Area in 2004 and my friend Derek introduced me to Uni, Sea Urchin. It took two vodka tonics to even get anywhere near the briny, alien looking form on the plate, but with the help of some liquid courage, I conquered my fear, and learned that I in fact, LOVE uni. The taste, both salty and mild, the strangely unfamiliar texture? Love. It.

After having been in a sushi rut at the delightfully cozy sushi place, Mitama, which sits exactly 1/2 block from my apartment (bliss.) I ended up there one evening after work with Leah and Lauren, and was introduced to my new favorite. I went for my usual (always 2 pieces of hamachi nigiri and one roll with maguro) and Leah ordered a Daikon Radish Salad that I had never tried. One taste and I was hooked. I spent the rest of the evening doing my best to restrain my chopsticks from bogarting her entire salad.

It struck me how easy it would be to make at home. And so that's exactly what I did. Thinly sliced daikon radish and cucumber, combined with carrot and yellow bell pepper, drenched in a sesame ginger vinaigrette. It's love between this salad and I. I'm quite sure of it.

This is not to say that I've entirely broken out of my sushi rut. This past weekend I had only added the salad to my usual. Oh well. Next time. Next time I'll find my next new favorite.

Daikon Radish Salad with Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette

1 tsp fresh ginger, minced
1 1/2 tsp sesame oil
2 tsp canola oil or grapeseed oil
1 tbsp rice wine vinegar
3 tbsp soy sauce
1 large daikon radish, peeled and thinly sliced into matchsticks
1/2 carrot, peeled and sliced into thin matchsticks
1/2 cucumber, sliced into thin matchsticks
1/4 yellow bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 tsp or so toasted sesame seeds for garnish
salt and pepper to taste

In a bowl, whisk together the ginger, oils, vinegar and soy sauce. Peel the radish and carrot, and slice all the vegetables into thin matchsicks. Toss all the vegetables in the bowl with the vinaigrette, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Top with toasted sesame seeds.

A Reinvention - Asparagus Salad - Raw & Roasted

I was talking with a friend recently about reinvention, and how often and unexpectedly it happens. Like that song you've heard so many times...the one that takes on a whole new light when it happens to be the one playing in the background when you have your first kiss with someone you eventually grow to love. The last dish you make for your Grandfather. The stretch of beach where a dear friend is married.

Those things become the maps to our inner-lives. The markers of where and who we were, until something happens to change the way we see or think about something.

It's funny, how those things happen so unexpectedly. All it takes is one memory associated with a previously innocuous thing, and suddenly it's endowed with meaning and memory. It's why I never skip a certain Pearl Jam or Elliott Smith song when they make their way through my headphones, and why just seeing the words "Shrimp Louie" on a menu can make me tear up. It's both lovely, and bittersweet. You never know what that unsuspecting object, song or dish might become to you in the future.

It's spring in the Bay Area, and that means asparagus at the farmer's market. Last year I was all about the thick purple stocks, this year, I'm leaning towards the pencil-thin green ones. The normal go-to recipe is to roast the whole bunch, but I was feeling adventurous. I decided to try a salad of asparagus two ways: roasted and raw, tossed with lemon and olive oil, and shaved Parmesan mixed in. Skeptical of raw asparagus? So was I. But don't pass it up. I used a vegetable peeler to peel off long, thin strips. The combination is surprising and delicious. Asparagus...but reinvented.



Asparagus Salad - Raw & Roasted

1 bunch asparagus
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp good quality extra virgin olive oil
2 ounces or so shaved Parmesan
sea salt & freshly ground pepper
fresh lemon zest for garnish

Pre-heat the oven to 425. Roast about 2/3 of the bunch of asparagus for about 20 minutes, until the ends are crispy and brown. Peel the other 1/3 of the bunch into long strips using a vegetable peeler. Whisk the lemon juice and olive oil together with a fork. Once the roasted asparagus is done, toss both roasted and raw together in a bowl with the vinaigrette. Plate, and top with shaved Parmesan, sea salt, pepper and lemon zest.

What it Takes - Roasted Mushroom & Bread Salad

I think one of the milestones of growing up must be when you choose to do the right thing, even when that is the hardest thing to do. To follow your heart, because you hold onto the belief that if you do that, you cannot be steered in the wrong direction. To do your best to handle disappointment with as much grace as you can muster. To keep looking forward, believing in possibility and opportunity and to be ready to greet those things with a heart that is wide open.

It takes a lot of strength to do those things. It takes confidence, and peace of mind in knowing that you've learned from your past, and that those lessons weren't wasted.

It takes knowing that the possibility for change only happens when you let go. Clear the decks and open up. Letting go of the control you only think you have. Nothing changes when you hold on too tight. It's a scary thing to let yourself fall. To jump into the wide open of change and possibility without a net in sight.

It's scary. But I can't help but think I'd rather grow, and change, and learn. Even when it hurts. Maybe especially when it hurts. Another opportunity to make myself stronger.

How's that for a positive attitude?

It took years before I could look a mushroom dead on. Fungus. I hated the musty little things. I would never even think of eating one. There was something so creepy about them. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but I had an extremely healthy distrust of mushrooms.

Thank goodness for change and growth. Now I can't get enough of them. Especially when they're roasted with a bit of sherry, torn off pieces of bread, tossed together with loads of herbs and topped with a dollop of creme fraiche. It's a delicious dinner that comes together in a snap. I could eat this stuff for days.

Roasted Mushroom & Bread Salad

1 lb crimini mushrooms (a blend of mushrooms would be fantastic in this)
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus 2 tbsp
salt & freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp dry sherry
1/2 lb chunky breadcrumbs
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
1/4 cup fresh chives, chopped
1 tbsp fresh thyme, chopped
creme fraiche (or plain yogurt) for garnish

Pre-heat the oven to 475. Put the mushrooms into a baking dish and toss with 1/4 cup olive oil. Sprinkle salt and pepper over the mushrooms. Roast the mushrooms for about 20 minutes on the upper rack of the oven, toss the mushrooms once and de-glaze the dish with the 2 tbsp of sherry. Put back in the oven and roast for an additional 10 minutes, until the mushrooms have darkened and shrunk significantly.

Meanwhile, coat the breadcrumbs with the 2 tbsp of olive oil and some salt and pepper. Toast in the oven or a toaster oven. When the mushrooms and breadcrumbs are done, toss together with the herbs. Add salt and pepper to taste. Top with creme fraiche and serve.

Possibility - English Pea & Pecorino Crostini with Mint

I am a planner at heart: A menu, a road trip, an evening out. When you need someone to book a reservation a month ahead of time, I am your girl. I live for that kind of thing. A hard-to-book table, the most affordable airline ticket, a unique date, an out-of-the-way beer garden in the next county or the best sandwich on Interstate 5. When it comes to planning, I am up to the task.

If only I were so confident when it comes to mapping out my life.

But I suppose that's the point of it all. I mean where's the fun in knowing everything that comes next? I'd love to meet the person who's life has gone according to plan. To be honest, it sounds fairly boring. Although I guess it would remove the sometimes anxiety-inducing uncertainty...which I admit, does sometimes sound appealing...

Uncertainty is just possibility in disguise. Isn't that what they say? I'm trying to keep that in mind as I get ready to spring into a week that has the potential to bring great change, or not. When I think about uncertainty, it tends to bring up negative connotations. But the same isn't true for possibility. Possibility, in my mind, is about the future, about looking forward to great success and happy events.

And I'll try to remember; if it's not this week that brings great change, it may be the next. Anything is possible. You just never know. Those are my positive thoughts for the day. Let's see if I can keep 'em going.

This week has already brought a ton of great scores from the Temescal Farmer's Market. I have a ton of things up my sleeve and a kitchen counter full of asparagus, fava beans, radishes and strawberries.

Also, one of my favorites, english peas.

I've got a Tarragon Chicken roasting in the oven, and I've invited Amber over for dinner, with clear instructions to bring the wine. While the chicken rests, these English Pea & Pecorino Crostini with Mint will be just the thing.

And then we'll toast to all the future possibilities.






English Pea & Pecorino Crostini with Mint
adapted from Molly Watson

2 lbs english peas, shelled
3 tbsp good quality extra-virgin olive oil
1 large clove garlic
1 fresh baguette, sliced on the diagonal
Pecorino for shredding
salt & freshly ground black pepper
mint for garnish
1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Bring a saucepan of water to boil and add the shelled peas. Boil for about 1 minute until slightly tender. Drain and rinse with cold water to cool the peas. Dry as best you can, and set them in a bowl. Mash peas with a fork with a touch of salt, the lemon juice and 2 tbsp of the olive oil.

Toast the bread and rub with the garlic. Discard the clove. Spread the pea-mash generously over each toast. Sprinkle with pecorino, mint and black pepper and drizzle the remaining tbsp of olive oil over the toasts. Add more salt to taste and serve.

Off I Go - Beet Hummus

I love Fridays. I love them even more when they mark the start of vacation. And this particular Friday, for me, does just that. Time to record "away" voicemail messages at work, to send out emails with particulars for while I'm gone... I'm actually considering leaving my own computer behind and unplugging completely. Although, to be honest, that sort of scares me. Not sure I'm ready to go cold turkey yet...

I won't tell you where I'm off to. I'd much rather post a few pictures upon my return. I promise to make a few location appropriate dishes while I'm gone. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited about the trip. Although, it does mean I have to get on a plane again. Not. Going. To. Think. About. It. (Deep breaths.)

By the way, did you know you could make hummus out of beets? I had no idea, although it was amazingly simple and really just made so much sense. I stumbled across the recipe over on Simply Recipes, but honestly, you could figure it out yourself with a bit of common sense. I also think you could just make regular hummus and cut back on the amount of chickpeas when adding the beets. This has got to be a crowd pleaser for sure. Look at the color, so beautiful! I think it would be delicious with a dab of goat cheese on top as well. I finished the bowl pretty quickly. Feeling quite pleased that I now have another use for beets.

Alright, off you go. Enjoy it. See you when I'm back from vacation!




Beet Hummus
adapted from Simply Recipes

4 medium beets, cleaned and scrubbed
2 1/2 tbsp tahini
5 tbsp fresh lemon juice
zest of 2 lemons
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tsp ground cumin
pinch of kosher salt
fresh ground pepper to taste

Pre-heat oven to 375. Place the beets in a dutch oven, or baking dish covered with foil. Fill the dish with about 1/4 inch water, place the beets inside. Cover and bake for about 1/2 hour, until they can be pierced easily with a fork. Once the beets are done, set aside to let cool and then cut into cubes.

Combine all ingredients in a food processor or blender. You can also use a hand blender. Pulse until smooth and well combined. Season to taste.

Guest Post By Leah - Raw Dino Kale Saad

There are some things in life that are just...great. Things like, a good gin & tonic. Italian Pizza. A kiss that makes you weak in the knees. Hearing your favorite song come on on the jukebox. Those are good things. Those are great things. Having your friend pick you up from work on your lunch hour so that she can recipe test on you...that qualifies as a great thing.

Enter Leah.

This Monday, she did just that. I'd driven home from Sacramento at 6:30 that morning. I could barely keep my eyes open at work, and was not so subtly trying to plan my escape, when Leah asked if I wanted to come over for lunch. I did. I am no fool.

And so she picked me up. And made me lunch. Made this salad, to be clear. I swooned over this salad. This salad was amazing. Had she not been looking, I would have gobbled the whole thing up in 5 seconds flat. I asked her to do a guest post for it, and she did just that. Enjoy!


Raw Dino Kale Salad - Guest Post by Leah

When Lily asked me if I was planning on watching the Oscars this year, I have to admit, I wasn’t that interested. But, then she pitched me the idea of making martinis and snacks and watching with a group of sensitive s**t-talkers. I was sold as soon as she said the word martini.

I love a martini.

Classic. With gin, of course.

I love the idea of it. I love trying to lift the awkward glass from the table to my mouth without loosing too much of the precious juice on the bar. I love the cold and crisp herby or citrus-y flavor. I love that it is uncomplicated. And I love that it comes with a snack. (ahhh, that emerald olive)

My dad introduced me to the best martini I have ever had about a year ago while I was with him on a business trip in Denver. The first night, we headed to his favorite restaurant in Denver, called Jax. We sat at the bar and ate red-curry muscles and drank martinis made from Cap Rock Gin. Cap Rock Gin is distilled at the Jack Rabbit Hill Biodynamic Farm in western Colorado's North Fork Gunnison Valley. It is made with apples, and so has a slightly sweet yet clean flavor. Oh, man, it is SO good!

And, I am digressing to the millionth degree. Martini’s make me do that.

So, the Oscars. We laughed, we cried. We discussed fashion, and the crazy white lady Kanye who stole Roger Ross Williams’s, (director of the best documentary short, Music by Prudence,) thunder. And we drank martinis. But, wouldn’t you know it, the real star of the show wasn’t the headliner, but the supporting actor. The raw kale salad I made as an after thought (we needed a vegetable dish to cut the richness of with our salumi and cheese-filled snack/dinner) stole my beloved martini’s spotlight.

I admit, I love this salad almost as much as I love a classic martini. It packs a punch of tangy-ness from the lemon juice and almost creamy-ness from the Parmesan. But the real treat is the raw kale. Dino kale is dark and bumpy, crunchy and satisfying, with a slightly sweet and herbaceous flavor, not completely unlike my favorite martini.

After a fall and winter of kale and leek pasta, braised kale, sautéed kale, and many, many other dishes of cooked kale, it was a pleasure to bring this back into the fold. I first read about this salad in the NY Times, and I have made it a few times over the years. It is always a winner It is the perfect accompaniment to just about anything, or it can stand out on it’s own, just like an Oscar dress or a martini.

Raw Dino Kale Salad
from the NY Times, October 2007

1 bunch Dino Kale (also called Tuscan or Lacinato Kale)
1/3 cup toasted, coarse breadcrumbs (from good white, sourdough, or Italian bread)
1-2 small cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/3 cup grated cheese, preferably Pecorino Romano (or Ricotta Salata)
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, plus some to garnish as needed
Fresh juice of one to 2 lemons (about ¼ cup)
1/8 – ¼ tsp. red pepper flakes (to taste)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Trim kale removing stems and discard. Slice kale leaves, including ribs, into very thin ribbons (1/8 inch or so). You should have 4-5 cups.

For the breadcrumbs, tear bread into little pieces or pulse stale bread in food processor. Toast bread in 350* oven for 7-12 minutes or until the crumbs are dry and just browned. Let cool completely.

With a mortar and pestle or the side of a knife, pound garlic into a paste with the salt. Place in a small bowl with the cheese, oil, lemon juice, pepper flakes and black pepper, and whisk to combine. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed.

Alternately, place garlic, cheese, oil, lemon juice, pepper flakes and salt and pepper in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until it is all incorporated and the garlic is finely minced.

Put kale in large bowl, pour the dressing over and toss thoroughly (dressing is a little bit thick because of the cheese and so needs lots of mixing to get all the kale covered. Using hands for this is a good method).

Let the salad sit for a minute, mix in and top with cooled breadcrumbs, and more cheese if you want.

If you are holding the salad for a while, and it will keep very nicely for a few days in the fridge, add more bread crumbs when you serve it or they will get very soggy (which, I personally love)

Yield: four side-dish servings

In Other News - Sunchoke, Celeriac & Fennel Salad with Dried Cherries & Hazelnuts

Not to brag or anything, but I did get 13 predictions right for the Oscars. Including all the big awards. Why do I never take my instincts to Vegas? I could make a killing! My thoughts about the show on a whole this year, though, are basically, "Meh, whatever." Except for two things: Jeff Bridges (he should have been nominated, and should have won for The Big Lebowski), who I am terribly excited for, and the clothes. I care a whole lot about the clothes.

While no one beats my all-time favorite Oscar dress (this one), I did go crazy for both Rachel McAdams gorgeous pastel water-color confection, and also for Cameron Diaz's sparkly Oscar De La Renta number.

I am really in it for the clothes.

Thanks to Lesley for hosting me this weekend. We made a beautiful pizza together, so good that it was devoured before any pictures could be snapped. Then we headed up to Tahoe yesterday for a day of skiing. I'm not sure my legs will ever forgive me, not to mention my toes and feet. Ski boots are basically just torture devices. Will no one make a comfortable ski boot? Can anyone aid me in this search? The future of my participation in this winter sport depends upon the finding of a decent and comfortable ski boot. Otherwise my feet will go on strike. Suggestions?

In other news, I made this salad. Riffing off a recipe I saw in the San Francisco Chronicle, I never would have thought to shave sunchokes for a salad. To tell you the truth, I never thought about eating them raw. I'm glad I now know it can be done. Pretty, no?




Not necessarily Oscar dress pretty, but it does make for an attractive lunch.

On a side note, the mandolin (a gift from my Mother) worked so perfectly for this salad. I'm so excited to finally have one!

Sunchoke, Celeriac & Fennel Salad with Dried Cherries & Hazelnuts

2 Sunchokes, scrubbed and shaved/sliced thin
1 small head celeriac, shaved thin or cut into matchsticks
1 head of fennel, shaved thin or cut into matchsticks
1/4 cup dried cherries
1/4 cup toasted hazelnuts, coarsely chopped
shaved Parmesan or Manchego for topping
coarse salt & pepper to taste
1 tsp chopped fennel fronds for garnish

For the dressing:
2 tbsp champagne or sherry vinegar
1 tbsp or less extra virgin olive oil
coarse salt and pepper to taste

Whisk dressing ingredients together. Arrange sunchoke, celeriac and fennel slices together in a serving bowl. Top with cherries, hazelnuts, cheese and chopped fennel fronds. Drizzle dressing over the salad and serve.

That'll Fix Her Up - Fried Chickpeas with Spinach & Chorizo

This past Saturday I slept late for the first time in recent memory. When I was finally able to drag myself out of bed, I enjoyed a lazy morning inside. I made myself a cup of coffee and turned on the TV to find that Julia Child's The French Chef was on. Julia was having an "omelette party" in her living room, cooking up dozens of omelettes on bunson burners. She listed her guests, and the kinds of omelettes she planned to create for them. "Oh there's my husband, spinach and cheese for him...there's so and so, ham and cheese for them," she said in her singsong voice, and then I heard her say, "And OHHHhhhhh here comes my Mother-in-Law, I'll give her a liver omelette, that'll fix her up."

I laughed so hard that coffee shot out my nose.

Oh, Julia! So enjoyable. I actually just finished her book, My Life in France, which was a birthday present from my sister. I loved it. It was amusing and entertaining. I couldn't believe I hadn't read it before. I highly recommend it.

On another note: thank you all so much for the words of encouragement after my post on knife skills. It's sometimes shocking to realize people actually read and recreate from this blog. It makes me very proud, and I'm always so happy to hear when people have enjoyed something, or have something to say about what was posted. And also, a huge thank you to Wendy. I opened up my blog email the other day to find a gift certificate to "Kitchen on Fire" from her. It was such a touching and thoughtful gift. Thank you so much, Wendy! It will be put to good use!

This Mark Bittman recipe caught my eye in The New York Times the other day: "Fried Chickpeas with Spinach and Chorizo." A totally affordable, quick and easy dish. I made it this weekend, and again tonight. I think it's going to become a regular around here. I tweaked it just a bit to my liking by increasing the amount of spinach called for, and also by adding lemon at the end. I think the lemon in particular adds some much-needed acidity to the dish. The best part of the whole thing? It's a one pan meal. Nothing better than that!




This recipe is easily amenable to for vegans /vegetarians. Just use soyrizo instead of chorizo. You can find it just about anywhere these days.

Fried Chickpeas with Chorizo & Spinach
adapted slightly from Mark Bittman

1/4 cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling
2 cups cooked or canned chickpeas, as dry as possible
Salt and black pepper
1/2 cup chorizo, diced
1 pound spinach, roughly chopped
1/4 cup sherry
1 to 2 cups bread crumbs.
juice of 1 lemon

Heat the broiler.

Heat 3 tbsp of olive oil in a skillet large enough to hold chickpeas in one layer over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, add chickpeas, season with salt and pepper.

Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, shaking the pan occasionally, until chickpeas begin to brown, about 10 minutes, then add chorizo. Continue cooking for another 5 to 8 minutes or until chickpeas are crisp; remove chickpeas and chorizo from pan and set aside.

Add the remainder of the olive oil to the pan; when it’s hot, add spinach and sherry, season with salt and pepper, and cook spinach over medium-low heat until very soft and most of the liquid has evaporated. Add chickpeas and chorizo back to the pan and toss quickly to combine; top with bread crumbs, drizzle with a bit more oil and run pan under the broiler to lightly brown the top. Once the top is browned, remove from the oven, and generously drizzle with the fresh lemon juice. Serve hot or at room temperature.

With a Twist - Sauted Brussels Sprouts with Pumpkin Seeds & Lime

A pumpkin pie and a pear and almond tart in the oven, a turkey brined in apple cider, green beans with gremolata, chanterelle mushrooms in butter and white wine, cranberry relish, rolls, mashed potatoes and brussels sprouts in lime with pumpkin seeds.

Actually, that last one was Thursday night's dinner. My friend Diana had mentioned that her fiance had a killer sprout recipe. I'm not one to pass up a killer recipe of any kind, especially not when it involves those delightful little cabbages. Hell to the yes, send it on!

And it was easy as pie. Some brussels sprouts sauteed in olive oil, a little salt and pepper, squeeze some lime on it and you're done! Having been won over last month by brussels sprouts sauteed and then dressed with cream and toasted pine nuts, I knew this could be a winner. But I thought it needed a little something. Enter the toasted pumpkin seeds. Pepitas, a perfect Mexican twist that goes perfectly with the lime.

To be honest, it's not even a recipe. Roughly chop the sprouts, saute them over medium to medium high with a good glug of olive oil, season with salt, pepper and lime, toast some pumpkin seeds and toss them in with the sprouts. That's it. It couldn't be simpler. And when you have some crazy complicated turkey recipe, desserts or whatever you might be serving tomorrow, it's not a bad idea to have at least one dish that is perfect in simplicity. Happy Thanksgiving to you, wherever you are. I hope the food is abundant and delicious, and that the company is just as good.

A Familiar Table - Rose's Baked Artichoke Hearts

I have trouble being away from my family on the holidays. I'm pretty spoiled as I've only had to do it a few times in my life. The most recent being a Thanksgiving a couple years back in Ashland with Lauren. We decided to create a feast for just the two of us. Everything from a giant turkey to the green beans, cranberry relish and mashed potatoes to Lauren's Grandmother's famous Ambrosia Salad (the recipe for that involved a box of Dream Whip and terrified me immensely, I shouldn't have been frightened, it was delicious!) We were the two obnoxious last minute shoppers in the grocery store that morning, buying the very last turkey. The process of making said feast ended up including a batch of brandied apple cider and a large bottle of red wine. When we finally took our first ever turkey out of the oven after a lot of "how do we do this?", "is it ready yet" and "is the thing popped out? I don't think it's done till the thing's popped out" the turkey had turned out beautifully. When we finally had everything on the table we were exhausted, full from snacking on cheese and tasting everything throughout the day. We were also very, very tipsy.

We took small bites of each dish, packed the rest up for leftovers and promptly feel asleep. So much for that. It was all delicious, but I gained a certain respect for people who do most of the cooking on Thanksgiving. After spending the entire day in the kitchen, for some reason you can really lose your appetite. I suppose brandy and red wine don't help.

Fortunately, I'll be in Portland with my family this Thanksgiving. A last minute change in plans. It's going to be a full house, with eight, count 'em, eight of my nieces and nephews running around. My Sister's my Mother and I will combine efforts and ovens and turn out the very best buttery Oregon Chantrelle Mushrooms, bright and verdant green beans with white wine and garlic, gingery cranberry relish, mocha pecan pies, pumpkin pies and fluffy rolls, and of course, a huge golden turkey, brined for days and stuffed with citrus.

I'm hoping to play some part in the mashed potatoes process. My Sister and I have a battle every year over the potato issue. She likes to spice things up, add some herbs and garlic. While at any other time of year that might be appropriate, I am firmly in the classic mashed potatoes camp at Thanksgiving. Keep your garlic and rosemary out of there! I like them just the way they are.

There's one dish that I'm particularly excited about. These Baked Artichokes. It's a recipe my sister Erika found a couple years ago in a Martha Stewart Magazine that featured their readers favorite family recipes. It is to die for. Normally nothing can replace my love of mashed potatoes. They're the first things I go looking for around midnight after the big meal, and they constitute breakfast for the next several days. But once these artichokes came around, they took an equal piece of my heart, and now make up half of my Thanksgiving Breakfast Bowl.

It really couldn't be simpler. Frozen artichoke hearts (which can be found at Trader Joe's and other stores) bread crumbs, Parmesan, Pecorino Romano, herbs, lemon juice and olive oil. And as many simple dishes are, mysteriously delicious. It's just the right combination, and it will be one of the first dishes on your Thanksgiving Table to also, mysteriously, disappear.


Rose's Baked Artichoke Hearts

from Martha Stewart Living
Serves 8

1 1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh curly leaf parsley
2 ounces Parmesan cheese, grated (1/4 cup)
2 ounces Pecorino Romano, grated (1/4 cup)
1 tablespoon mixed dried herbs such as thyme, oregano, and savory, or Italian seasoning blend
1 teaspoon coarse salt
Freshly ground pepper
3 packages (9 ounces each) frozen artichoke hearts, thawed and drained
2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for baking dishes
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 2 lemons)
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
2 garlic cloves, minced (2 teaspoons)

Preheat the oven to 325. Combine breadcrumbs, parsley, cheese, herbs and salt in a bowl and season with pepper.

Brush the insides of two 9 1/2-inch ceramic baking dishes or pie pans (or 1 9 by 13 glass baking dish) with olive oil. Divide the artichoke hearts between the dishes and spread into a single layer.

Sprinkle the breadcrumb mixture over artichokes, pressing down to push into the cracks. Tap bottom of dishes on the counter to settle the mixture.

Whisk oil, lemon juice, zest and garlic in a small bowl. Drizzle the dressing evenly over the breadcrumb topping. Cover dishes with parchment, then foil, and bake for 30 minutes. Increase the heat to 375, uncover and bake until breadcrumbs are golden brown, about 20-25 minutes. Serve immediately.

Conundrum - Roasted Cauliflower with Kalamata Vinaigrette

When opening up my fridge tonight I was faced with a conundrum. In actuality I was faced with a head of cauliflower, but that posed a difficult question. Namely, what to do with it? If you can believe it, I had not one, but two cauliflower recipes I was dying to try. Would it be Thomas Keller's Cream of Cauliflower Soup with Roasted Beet Chips? Or Gourmet's Roasted Cauliflower with Kalamata Vinaigrette?

Is it wrong to be excited about a vegetable? Especially such a nondescript, usually boring vegetable such as this one. I don't know where the enthusiasm comes from. Growing up this stuff was only seen as a snack to munch on while dinner was being assembled. I remember thinking it smelled funny. Like feet. Actually, I still think that. It's amazing how smells can utterly and totally transport you. They're so connected to our memories. When I start chopping cauliflower I'm suddenly back in my childhood kitchen. Preparing dinner with my family and sharing stories of the day, planning the next day's schedule. It's a funny kind of trigger.

Eating it raw is ok, but something really happens to this stuff when you roast it. It caramelizes beautifully, and takes on an earthy taste and aroma. I also love slicing it into thick chunks, right down the middle. Ending up with cauliflower "steaks."

I opted for the Gourmet recipe. When I paged through the September issue this is one that immediately caught my eye. I have a deep and undying love for Kalamata olives, and pairing it with the cauliflower is a combination I'd never considered. Something about the description, "a briny olive vinaigrette adds just the right sharp-savory note," and oh man, is that a perfectly apt description. Wow. This is so simple, but so good.

Not to mention easy. Easy and elegant all at the same time. Don't overlook the simple stuff. It's where the hidden gems lie.


Roasted Cauliflower with Kalamata Vinaigrette
Gourmet Magazine

1 large head cauliflower
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 small garlic clove
1 to 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice (to taste)
1/4 cup pitted Kalamata olives, finely chopped

Preheat the oven to 450 with rack in the lower third. Cut cauliflower lengthwise into 3/4 inch thick slices. Put in a large 4 sided sheet pan and toss with 2 tbsp olive oil and 1/2 tsp each of salt and pepper. Roast, turning once or twice, until golden and just tender, about 25 minutes.

While cauliflower roasts, mince and mash garlic to a paste with a pinch of salt, then whisk together with lemon juice, remaining 2 tbsp oil, olives, a pinch of salt and a pinch of pepper. Serve cauliflower drizzled with Kalamata vinaigrette.

In the Spirit - Caramelized Brussels Sprouts with Butternut Squash & Hazelnuts

With Halloween coming up this weekend, I'm feeling the pressure of putting a costume together. Something I haven't done in several years. Probably not since 2006, when I made Lauren take BART over to Berkeley in her costume around 4pm.


Her: "Are you sure I should take BART in my costume? It's so early, no one else will be dressed up!"


Me: "It'll be fine, everyone is in costume all day here!" (Lie.)


Needless to say, she was a bit ticked off at me when she got off the train, having been the only one in costume among the commuter suits and high heels. But, in my defense, I hadn't realized her Cleopatra costume would be so...ummm...sheer, shall we say.


She was also less than pleased that I wasn't yet in costume.But needless to say, she was very popular on BART. Especially with the guys in suits.



This year, with Friday and Saturday off from rehearsal, I should have some time to put a costume together. I'm thinking this will probably involve a trip to Michael's craft store, a trip that is always simultaneously terrifying and fascinating. Much like roaming around the city on Halloween night. Gone are the days of the giant Castro Halloween celebration. Now we're left to our own devices and house parties.


Is it just me, or has Halloween reached the kind of pressure usually associated with New Year's? Where are you going? Who are you seeing? When will you be there? What are you wearing? What if I just want to stay inside, watch Rocky Horror Picture Show for the umpteenth time and eat macaroni n' cheese straight out of the pan! How about THAT Halloween?

At least tonight's dinner reflects the spirit of the holiday. I am so in love with this dish. I wasn't even sure what to call it. The truth is, it's roasted, glazed and caramelized, all in one! I mean, how delicious does that sound? I first had it at Luna Park in San Francisco. It was pretty easy to recreate at home. The honey adds a sweet note, and it's a wonderful combination with the crisp and roasted edges of the sprouts and the nuts. Be warned, this stuff goes fast!





Caramelized Brussels Sprouts with Butternut Squash & Hazelnuts
adapted from Luna Park Restaurant

1/2 lb brussels sprouts, trimmed and cut in half
1/2 lb butternut squash, peeled and cut into cubes
1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp honey
Cayenne pepper to taste
sea salt

Bring a small pot of water to boil and heat the oven to 450. Once the water is boiling, blanch the trimmed and cut brussels sprouts for about a minute. Drain and run cool water over them to stop them from cooking further. Toss the sprouts (loose leaves and all) and squash together on a large cookie sheet with the olive oil, honey, cayenne pepper and salt. Roast in the oven for 15-20 minutes, until sprouts and squash are nicely caramelized and brown. Shake pan once or twice during cooking.

Once the sprouts are in the oven, toast about 1/4 cup hazelnuts in a toaster oven or on the stove. Once the nuts are browned and fragrant, use a paper bag or paper towel to rub the skins off. Or, if you're lazy like me, you can leave most of the skins on.

Once the sprouts are done, toss the mixture with the hazelnuts. Serve while hot.