Perfect Pork

Today I'm finally going to get around to telling you about that pork I mentioned last week. Before that, however, I have a few things to share. None of them are terribly exciting, but seeing as if I have a fantasy that thousands of you log onto your computers every Monday just to see what I have to say this week, indulge me.

1. I saw Julie & Julia this weekend. I read the Julie book a couple of years ago. It mostly ticked me off that I didn't think of it first, reinforcing the idea that any blog is nothing more than unpublished writer's haven (except of course if you're Julie Powell and you get a book deal followed by a blockbuster movie deal). The movie, however, was lots of fun, especially the half about Julia.
2. I made the potato salad from last week again last night. I just wanted to mention that this batch seemed to soak up more dressing that last week's. I did use a different potato variety, but it, too, was a low-starch type. Please note that if your potatoes look a little dry, give 'em just a bit more dressing love. I'd hate to lead you astray with this lovely salad.
   
3. When I was back home last month, I spotted a book on my mother-in-law's shelf that I knew I had to read: Heloise's Kitchen Hints. I borrowed it, promising Janet I'd return it to her some day. I've been reading bits of it before bed each night. While there are some outdated bits of advice like, say, baking cakes in coffee cans (I mean really, who buys coffee in cans these days?), I've got to say there are more than a few handy tips. Like how to dry lettuce before the salad spinner became a ubiquitous kitchen tool -- the washing machine on the spin cycle. I tried it myself this weekend, and it worked like a charm. (My salad spinner was a casualty in the don't-put-cheap-plastic-on-the-bottom-rack-of-the-dishwasher war.) Wash your greens, wrap them gently in a large kitchen towel or pillowcase. Then spin away. Genius.
   

OK, the pork. This is more of a cooking technique than a recipe. I love cooking those huge hunks of pork, the cheap cuts, often going by names like shoulder, butt and picnic. They can be somewhat intimidating, just a huge lump of flesh, and, if not cooked properly, they seize up and turn so tough that it just might break the glass on the window you try to heave it through.

That point when it's really tough is typically when you might begin to curse yourself for overcooking the meat. But this cheap pork thing is tricky. The meat does get icky tough, but then, you cook it longer and it relents, yielding to the slightest pressure from the back of a fork. It's done when you can make it look like this just using your hands.


Given my love for huge chunks of pork, I've cooked them in the slow cooker, on the stove top, in the oven and on the grill. Some methods work better than others. This method, produces the best results given it takes so little work. You get tender pork that still has enough structure -- something I can't seem to get from the slow cooker methods.

Here's what you need to know:

(Just one second. Remember I said this was easy? It is. It just looks like a long description. For those of you out there who are more visual like I am, just look at the picture below.)



Sprinkle about two tablespoons of kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper into a dry roasting pan. Shake the pan a bit to evenly spread the salt and pepper. Take the meat (dry, please) and roll it in the pan, so that every cranny of it gets a little salt and pepper love. Set aside. Take two strings of kitchen twine, at least 12 inches long and lay them parallel to each other about four inches apart. Then, take a heap of herbs such as oregano, rosemary, thyme and parsley and pile them in a layer atop the twine, running perpendicular, probably about eight to 10 inches wide. Then place your seasoned pork smack in the middle of the herbs, positioned so the stems of the herbs are running lengthwise with the meat. Next, using the kitchen twine as your guide, roll the pork slowly, pulling the herbs around it as you go and tie the twine to secure. Then wrap the whole thing tightly in foil, place it in that roasting pan and pop it into a 325 degree oven. Set a timer for an hour and a half. Depending on the size of your cut, it could take longer. Once the timer goes off, check the meat. If it does not easily yield to a little pressure, it's not done. Wrap it back up, put it in the oven and check it in another 40 minutes or so, continuing to cook and checking every so often until it's done. When it is done, unwrap the foil, cut the twine, and remove and discard the herbs. Pull the pork into chunks and serve. Delicious.

And just in case you have leftovers, you could add some saucy sauce and make it look like this. Enjoy.

Last-Minute Potato Salad

I planned on telling you about a great method for slow-roasting pork shoulder today, but I got sidetracked last night. I wanted to pull together a quick dinner that came mostly from the grill. The chicken and summer squash were perfect for the hot coals, but two large potatoes would need something else. That's when I remembered a great potato salad I had at the Garden State food cart in Sellwood recently.


Yes, I know I recently raved about Grandma Sarah's Potato Salad, and that one still is, indeed, my favorite. When you're in the creamy kinda mood. But sometimes I could do without the mayo hangover. This potato salad can be made in a matter of minutes, and it's somewhat deceptive. Don't get me wrong, it does look good, but it tastes even better than it looks. Using a less starchy new potato means that the vegetable holds its shape, and thinly sliced raw onions become soft thanks to the vinegar-based dressing. The key is to dress the potatoes while they're still warm -- an opposite from a mayo-based potato salad. The warmth means that the potatoes are opened up and ready to absorb the dressing. That means the potatoes aren't coated in a dressing, they're saturated with the dressing, soaking it up like a dry sponge dropped into a wet sink. Delicious.


The best part is that the cook time on this is about five minutes, the prep a little less and then the rest is just to let the salad sit for a bit to come together, save a few tosses. This is the perfect time to tend the grill, talk about the day or drink a glass of wine. That, is a perfect potato salad.

Last-Minute Potato Salad

2 large new potatoes
1/2 small onion, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 1/2 tbsp red wine vinegar
3-4 tbsp olive oil
Salt and Pepper to taste
Chopped herbs such as rosemary or parsley

Cut potatoes into thick slices, roughly one-half inch. Steam potatoes just until tender. Remove from heat to dry for a few moments. While steaming, combine remaining ingredients to make dressing, whisking to bring the oil and vinegar together. Taste dressing and adjust seasoning as desired. Once potatoes are cool enough to handle, but still warm, pour the dressing over top of them. Using your hands, gently toss to coat potatoes in dressing without breaking them apart. Let potato salad stand for about 20 minutes, tossing every five or so minutes to continue to coat potatoes. Serve immediately or refrigerate.

Serves about two as a side dish. Double or triple proportions accordingly.

Where will sorbet take you?

Last week when I wrote about grilling pizzas, it was hot. I now know I was wrong. In the days following that post the thermometer crept up to 107 outside. Inside our usually cozy Northwest home, sans AC, it was a whopping 90. In the mornings.

So the past week we were on a hiatus from using heat in the kitchen for anything. Well, I suppose that's not exactly true. I did boil pasta one night, and I used the slow cooker to make pulled pork. Oh, and the microwave steamer was my best friend.

Somewhere in there, I had to make a dessert for book club. A crisp, cobbler or pie would have done right by the fruit of the season, but they all took some heavy-duty fire power to bake them. And trying to keep it dairy-free for a friend ruled out an icebox pie. With four over-ripe peaches waiting for their hips to sag in the heat, I decided they must be part of my dessert plan. Then I remembered that gifted bottle of Prosecco collecting dust. My dessert would be Peach Sorbet.


Sorbet is one of the most deceptive desserts out there. It requires very few tools save a blender or food processor, demands practically zero effort and the reward is the ripe, sugary goodness of fresh fruit, frozen into thousands of ice crystals that walk the line between ice cream and Popsicle.

You will see some recipes call for an ice cream maker, but this method just uses your freezer. Try swapping your other favorite fruits for peaches -- nectarines, plums, berries, pears, melon. I even had a rose sorbet once that was to die for. The chef had hand-picked fresh petals that morning to make the palate cleanser. It tasted, I told the her, like I imagine some elegant and romantic French lingerie shop with plush velvet chairs, beautiful blue-haired shop keepers, and a window display any mother could walk by with her child.

A wonderful sorbet, I suppose, can take you just about anywhere.

Summer Peach Sorbet

3 Large, ripe peaches
1/3 cup Prosecco or other sparkling white wine*
Approx. 1 tablespoon sugar
1 medium lemon, juiced

To remove the peach skins, with a knife, cut through the skins, making a large X in the butt of the fruit. Add peaches to boiling water for about 1 minute. You will see the skins start to pull away from the crisscross cut. Remove peach from pot and, once cool enough to handle, gently rub or pull away skins. Pit the peaches and load the fruit into a food processor or blender (work in batches if needed). Add the wine, sugar and lemon juice and puree. Taste. Add more sugar if needed, based on the fruit's ripeness. Once mixture is done, pour into a shallow vessel. A plastic container with a lid is best, but a cake pan or glass dish works as well. Cover and place in the freezer. About every hour or so, remove the mixture from freezer and stir with a fork, pulling any freezing chunks on the edges to the inner part of the dish. After about four to five hours the sorbet will be ready to serve.


* The alcohol helps this dish by not allowing it to freeze completely. However, if you want to make an alcohol-free version, make a simple syrup with equal parts sugar and water instead.

Pizza... Too much of a good thing

If there are any loyal readers of this blog, you are very likely sick of hearing about pizza. It seems I go on and on and on about pizza sometimes. Maybe it's because it's so darn easy to make. Or maybe it's because it's one of my I-have-nothing-in-the-pantry dishes. Seriously, you got flour, yeast, olive oil, something that passes as cheese and something that passes as meat or veg or fruit, and you got pizza!

On Saturday Seth asked why we hadn't had pizza in a while, a regular on our cold-season menu. Well, I told him, there's something about turning on the oven to 450 degrees when it's already 90 degrees outside and you don't have air conditioning. Too much, heat, in this case, is not a good thing.

So, I decided to give in to his craving and cook the pizza on the grill outside. Trust me, I still had to brave the heat radiating from the coals during an already sun-soaked evening, but at least I didn't add to the global warming index of my kitchen in the process. We made four different kinds of pizzas thanks to a kitchen stocked with some of summer's offerings. Jasper dined on a broccoli cheddar pizza (thank you, Cousin Nathan and Converging Creeks Farm), while we enjoyed three kinds of our own: peach and blue cheese; basil pesto and parm; and our own broccoli version. It was simple and delicious. If you think ripe peaches and blue cheese sound strange then you have no idea how a candy like Sweet Tarts ever could have caught on. The peaches are sweet the blue is tangy and the result is heavenly. It's a pleasing combo that translates to salads as well.


Go make this pizza crust. Simply top it with olive oil and whatever delicious veggies you have too much of. It will be a good thing, and I doubt you'll hardly have too much!

Pizza Crust (for grilled pizzas)
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup of warm water
1 package (or 2 1/2 teaspoons) yeast
Olive oil

The dough is easiest made in a food processor fitted with a dough blade. It can be made by hand, but expect a more consistent crust with food processor.

Combine flour and salt in the food processor. Add yeast to the warm water and stir to combine. Turn the processor on and pour the water mixture in slowly followed by a light drizzle of olive oil. Process until the dough forms a ball, then process for about 1 more minute. Remove dough from processor work bowl and place in a bowl at least double its size. Drizzle olive oil over top and smear around with your fingers. This will keep the dough from getting an outer crust on the ball. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a dish towel. Let the dough rise for approximately 1 to 2 hours, until it has doubled in size. Once dough has risen, use quickly or store in the refrigerator in tightly-wrapped plastic for about 1 day or freeze.

Roll or toss dough to desired sizes, coating in enough flour to make it easy to work with. Place an untopped dough round directly on a hot grill for 2 to 3 minutes. The exact time varies drastically depending on the temperature. Don't walk away. Use long tongs to check the underside. Once the bottom begins to brown, flip the crust for about another minute. Then, remove the crust, top with pizza toppings. Return to grill in a spot where it gets only indirect heat or place on several layers of foil or baking sheet on the grill, so the bottom does not burn. Continue to cook until the toppings appear done.

*To bake in the oven, preheat to 450 degrees and bake a topped crust for about 11 to 14 minutes.

The Cool of Summer

When it's hot outside and the garden is ripe, there is nothing more refreshing and easy than a summer salad. It's the season where stone fruits and tomatoes, melons and onions and peppers and peaches marry to create flavors that make it clear the only way to improve on a perfectly ripe fruit or vegetable is to add another.

Yesterday I threw together a dish of cubed watermelon, tomatoes, cucumbers, walla walla onions, radishes, oregano and feta. I tossed it all with a little olive oil and seasoning. It was refreshing, simple and substantial enough to be a side dish worthy of seconds.


The seasons for these salads may be short, but the spontaneity of them gives you the freedom to use whatever you have on hand. Leftover watermelon slices, a couple of ripe tomatoes, one lonely peach, a quickly wilting bunch of herbs or half of a bell pepper need not go to waste. It's a cooking method I first caught on to while reporting a story on Turkish immigrants. I visited a family for a few meals and was amazed at the beautiful salads they served with every meal. They were quick, simple and required relatively few ingredients. In a culture where we think salads start with a bag of pre-rinsed greens, we've got a ways to go in the creativity department.

If you need more ideas, check out this New York Times piece by the talented Mark Bittman. If you don't have enough food in your house to make at least one of these tasty salads, it's time to hit up the farmers market. Summer doesn't last forever!

Burgers, Catfish and Dumplings, Oh My!

We just returned from a 10-day adventure that took us all the way from Southeastern Oklahoma to West Texas, and that was after traveling to Oklahoma City from Portland, Ore.

So, as soon as I get the laundry folded and pantry restocked, I'll offer a recipe. Thank you for accepting my tardy excuse this week.

In the meantime, I'll let you know that I was reminded of a few things on this trip home:

• Johnnie's still makes one of the best damn burgers around. My parents started taking me to the one off Britton Road when I was a kid. We'd go there for burgers when we were in the neighborhood or meet up with family or friends for dinner. Johnnies strikes the perfect blend of fast food and full service. It's technically fast food, but it just feels homier than a McDonald's, and the food, of course, is far superior. Grated cheese on a large beef patty and their special sauce, which is really a tasty barbecue dressing, makes this burger darn near perfect. And the onion rings set the standard.
  
• Fried catfish is plentiful and delicious. And don't you dare try to serve it without hush puppies. A meal I can't pass up when I'm in the state. As a kid we always had our own fish fries, but today we settle for a cafe's version when we're down near our lake house.
  
• I grew up eating my Great Grandma Peach's Chicken and Dumplings. The dumplings, however, are more like noodles than anything else. I was happy to find that my family isn't alone. I chowed on some chicken and dumplings that were of the noodle variety. I must say, though, Peach's are still the best.
  

A Good Thing Worth Repeating

Seth recently said, "It's not summer until you make potato salad." It's true. It's one of those dishes that you could make any time of year, but fixing it in December would be like wearing a Hawaiian shirt to a Christmas Party in Detroit. Neither would fit in with reindeer sweaters.

So in the name of celebrating summer, you must go make this potato salad. I like all kinds of potato salad (come on, mayo, potatoes, salt, what's not to like?), but this is the one I always come back to. It's simple yet divine. Perfect for picnics but not so unassuming it couldn't make an appearance at a set table either.

I have written about it before, so I won't repeat the details. Here is where you'll find the backstory. Enjoy the summer. It won't be too long before those tacky sweaters will be in season.

Grandma Sarah's Potato Salad

5 pounds of Russet potatoes
1 bunch of celery, chopped
1 medium red onion, diced
2 eggs, hard boiled and peeled
3 cups of mayonnaise (no Miracle Whip, please)
1 4oz jar of diced pimentos (find them in grocery aisle near pickled asparagus and such)
S & P to taste

Peel, rinse and dice potatoes. Boil until tender in a large, liberally salted pot of water. Drain. Lay potatoes out on a cookie sheet to cool. Speed up the process by placing freezer bags filled with ice on top of them.
Chop one bunch of celery, dice the onion and egg. Combine celery, onion, egg, pimentos (juice and all), mayo, salt, pepper and potatoes in a large bowl. Gently mix to combine, making sure not to mash potatoes.
Season to taste. Chill, serve cold.

Note: Obviously, one only needs five pounds if you're feeding the entire church congregation. Scale down as necessary. Also, you can leave out ingredients you don't like, but do keep in mind that potato salad is not only about taste, but texture, too. The onions and celery add a delicious crunch.

Cobbler Love

As I've mentioned here before, I'm not much of a baker. Slowly, though, I'm coming around. Maybe it's just my stage in life, but I am growing to appreciate the structure a recipe offers. That said, you will still find me hunched over the garbage every now and then used a knife to scrape some sadly burned cake out of a pan.

So when I decided to throw together a dessert for my Fourth of July barbecue, I went with something I know. I started with an all-American biscuit. It's probably the one baked good that I feel completely comfortable making. It's a recipe adapted from the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook with the red and white checkered cover. A little extra sugar and lemon zest transformed this flaky biscuit into something that pairs better with berries than sausage gravy. I made the biscuit dough the day before and popped them in the freezer for the night.

The next morning I made a quick trip to the farmer's market where I passed right by fresh sugar snap peas, homemade tamales and my favorite mushroom man. I was focused on fruit. Something that would pair nicely with those buttery biscuits in my freezer. I was sold when my eyes landed on a half-flat of plump, deep purple marionberries. This Oregon jewel is similar to a blackberry in size and shape with a flavor that bleeds more sweet than tart.


At home, I spent about five minutes pulling this cobbler together. The berries went into a pan with sugar, flour and lemon zest. Then the frozen biscuits were popped on to top, and the entire thing took a quick trip in a hot oven. After mini burgers, hot dogs and too much potato salad, we ate marionberry cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream. Lots of neighbors ended their evenings with sparklers in hand but not our crew. With a slew of young kids and babies more interested in bubbles than fireworks, a little berry cobbler didn't disappoint as the cap to our celebration.


Marionberry Cobbler
Biscuits
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for working with dough
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup butter, cold, cubed
2/3 cup milk
1 lemon, zested
2 tablespoons butter, melted
Juice of one lemon
3 to 4 tablespoons powdered sugar

Berry mixture
8 cups rinsed and drained marionberries*
3/4 cup sugar
1 lemon, zested
2 tablespoons flour

To make biscuits, in a food processor combine flour, salt, sugar, baking powder, cream of tartar, lemon zest and cubed butter. Mix, pulsing until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. If you do not have a food processor, use a pastry blender to combine ingredients. Dump flour and butter mixture into a mixing bowl and add milk. Combine with a spoon. Turn out dough onto well-floured surface. Work dough into a ball and use a rolling pin to roll dough out to about 1/2 of inch thick. Use a biscuit cutter to cut rounds, making sure not to twist cutter. Dip cut biscuit tops in melted butter and transfer to baking sheet. Place biscuits in freezer for at least five minutes (I place the entire baking sheet in there). Then either proceed with rest of recipe or transfer to airtight container once biscuit dough is frozen until ready for baking.

Prep berries by gently rinsing and draining. Then gently combine with sugar, lemon zest and flour, careful not to bruise or crush the fruit (using your hands is best). Pour the berry mixture into a 9x13-inch pan. Top with biscuit dough and bake in a 450 oven for 12 to 14 minutes or until golden brown.

While cobbler bakes, combine powdered sugar and lemon juice. After the cobbler is baked, use a pastry brush to lightly coat the tops of biscuits with the lemon-sugar glaze. Serve warm or room temperature topped with vanilla ice cream.

* Substitute blackberries if you cannot find marionberries.

Note: Because the sugar content of fruit can vary, adjust the amount of sugar as needed based on the ripeness of fruit used.

Endless Possibilities

After making jam last week, I still had several pints of strawberries staining the refrigerator shelves, so we tried to eat them all. We had them on cereal. We ate them whole. I sliced them over ice cream. I discovered sliced strawberries are heavenly in this recipe when swapped for chocolate chips. But there were still more, and most were on the verge of overripe mush.

The ruby jewels are too precious to toss in the compost just because we couldn't get our grub on quick enough. So I gave them a rinse, sliced their little green tops off and dropped them in the blender. After a quick whiz, I had a brilliant red puree. Here's where I stole a trick from my baby-food-making recipes: I poured the puree into my silicone muffin tin (yes, it's not technically a tin, but I just can't make any other name stick) and popped them in the freezer. If you don't have a silicone muffin tin, use ice cube trays. A few hours later they are frozen solid and can be popped out and transferred to a plastic bag or other airtight container.


So what could you do with frozen strawberry hockey pucks? Well, toss one in the blender with plain yogurt for a smoothie. Add thawed puree to your morning oatmeal. Or use it for baking cakes, muffins or making pancakes. Blend it with cream cheese and sugar for a delicious frosting. Pour it over ice cream or sliced pound cake. Add it to your lemonade, or better yet, your margarita!

Unlike the shelf life of a strawberry, the possibilities are endless. The bottom line is, there is no need to let your fruit go to waste. If you can't eat it in time, take five minutes to puree and freeze it. It's just one little way to stretch the summer season.

The Last Thing

I thought this being a food blog and all that I should offer up at least one recipe this week. And very appropriately, I thought I'd tell you about the last thing.

That's something I seem to say a lot. Like starting a sentence with "The last thing I have to do is ..." There's never really a last thing. I mean, even the couple sitting blissfully on the beach with a drink in hand will need someone to run to the store eventually for more vodka or limes, right?


In between the chores, dinner, the kids and the pets, treat yourself to a few niceties. Like croutons. I sometimes find myself pulling together a dinner and at the last minute thinking that the only thing left is the croutons. It sounds so meaningless, but imagine a great salad you love topped with crisp cubes of salty, crunchy goodness. Or sprinkle them on soup. Whiz 'em in the food processor and top your pasta with them. The possibilities are limitless, and this handy little tip will make you loath those boxed cubes of stale bread and love the leftover baguette.


Croutons are simple to make. The recipe goes something like this: Cube bread* then toss with just enough olive oil to coat. Season generously with salt, pepper and anything else you like (think herbs, red pepper flakes, crushed garlic and the like). Then apply heat to toast them up. It literally takes a couple of minutes. This can be accomplished in a medium oven for about five minutes, on the stove top in a skillet or even in a pan over the grill. If you've chosen the stovetop or grill method, you'll need to give the pan a shake every now and then to evenly brown. Those made in the oven will crisp nicely all on their own. Cool croutons and use immediately or store in an airtight container for a day or so.

* Stale or slightly stale bread works best, but fresh bread will work. Just note that the more moist the bread, the longer the cook time. Use any type of bread you like including plain old sandwich loaf bread.

Grab a napkin, pass the jam

I made strawberry jam. Yes, I had lots of help, and no, I did not create the world's most perfect jam. Like me, it had its flaws. One of four cans didn't seal correctly, which is OK because I would have popped one open today anyway. The jam itself wasn't quite as gelled as I would have liked, but the flavor was excellent. Pectin is a finicky thing, and like with many things in the kitchen, making jam is a bit of trial and error, I suppose. Now, it's time to go at it again and see if with a few tweaks I may be able to get the consistency a bit firmer. Christiane said that perhaps we added the lemon juice a bit early and making it the last step would yield better results since it breaks down the natural pectin. She also said it could continue to set for the next day or two.

While it was pretty exciting to put my jam on my toast this morning, I'm most excited that making jam doesn't sound so scary anymore. I am not going to offer up a recipe just yet. I'll do that when I get it right. I'm still eating my jam, though. I'll just put a napkin in my lap.

Now we wait

So I am almost embarrassed to admit this, but even though strawberry jam was made in my kitchen today, I did very little of the making. My sweet friend Christiane came by and basically gave me a preserving lesson while she made the jam. I did things like prepped the strawberries, cooked us lunch and kept Jasper out of the trash, which is his latest trick. She watched the timer, stirred the jam and fished out the foamy stuff in the pot that she said we didn't want.


Now, she says, we wait. I'm under strict orders to leave the jars alone until tomorrow morning. Then I give them a test to see if they have truly sealed. Those that are sealed can go to the pantry. Any that aren't are still good as long as they're eaten within a week or so. I am so excited. Once I give 'em a try, I'll pass along the recipe.

Even if we weren't successful, it was worth it. There are very few things I find more enjoyable than hanging out with good company in the kitchen.

Strawberry Ambition

Today I'm trying something new. I am going to make strawberry jam. It sounds easy just writing it here, but to be honest I'm a little scared. It involves canning, which sounds intimidating to me. I like flexibility. I want to be able to shift course mid-process, and filling jars and sealing them seems so permanent.


I bought this flat of delicious, ripe strawberries at the farmer's market yesterday, so I've got to work quick. I've researched a few recipes, and a seasoned jam-making friend may stop by. I promise to update you later today and let you know just how it went. And if it's a true success and you live close enough, you may just find a jar of strawberry jam at your door.

Recreating Mom's Zucchini

When I was a kid, we had a yellow, round electric skillet that was pulled out on Saturday mornings when Dad would make an omelet and for weeknight dinners when Mom would make sauteed zucchini. I always loved this vegetable side dish, especially the parmesan cheese from the green can that she sprinkled on just near the end of cooking.

I remember once trying to recreate the dish at my friend Lisa's while I was in middle school. I didn't get it quite right and made a mess of her mother's skillet when the cheese stuck everywhere but the zucchini. To this day, I still have trouble replicating her dish. It's possible that it's one of those things that tastes better in my memory than in reality. But then again, summer squash is a delicate thing that wants to be treated just right. Unlike its fall and winter counterparts, summer squash has a soft flesh and needs only minimal cooking. Cooked too long and it turns into a soggy mash; not long enough and it's got the bite of al dente pasta.

Perhaps it was that giant nonstick electric skillet that yielded the perfect zucchini. Then again it could have been the cheese from the green can that helped absorb the excess liquid. It was probably some wacky combination of all of these things along with my mom's technique. Whatever it was, it was delicious, and I've finally found a way to recreate the same flavor. The look is different, however. My mom sliced her squash into discs about a quarter of an inch thick while I trimmed the ends and then sliced them once, lengthwise.


The result is a zucchini that is cooked through yet firm enough to hold its shape. And the salty parmesan plays well upon the slight sweetness of the squash. The dish is an easy side or could also make for a fun appetizer.

Broiled Zucchini topped with Parmesan

2 medium zucchini, washed and ends trimmed
1/4 cup or more grated parmesan
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper

Preheat the oven on its broiler setting. Cut the zucchini in half, lengthwise. Place them on a cookie sheet with the cut sides facing up. Brush the tops with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place under the broiler for approximately 7 minutes and check for doneness. The exact time will depend on how large your zucchini are. It is done when the squash is tender and the edges begin to brown. Remove from oven and top with parmesan cheese. Return to oven to melt and brown cheese, roughly 1 to 2 minutes. Serve immediately.

Sophistication Without the Skills

The past week has been a whirlwind to say the least. Travel, sick baby, high fever and a catered event for 25 to pull off. Somehow it all came together, and we are, at last, back in our own home where everyone slept well last night.

In the spirit of busy times, I will be brief and leave you with a treat I first put together last summer. I was inspired after reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle with the book club gals and made an appetizer that was sourced completely from the farmer's market aside from the oil and vinegar.

It's a crostini topped with arugula, strawberries macerated in balsamic reduction and topped with crumbled feta. It's basically a salad that I love put onto a little slice of toasted bread. There's something magical that happens when fresh, ripe strawberries -- the kind that bleed a deep red syrup when sliced through -- meet balsamic vinegar. The sweet, tangy combination delivers five-star flavor by way of Top Ramen skills. It's really that simple. Slice them and toss them. The trick to balsamic is simply that if you're on a budget, buy a middle-of-the-road variety and reduce it to concentrate the flavor.


Crostini Topped with Arugula, Balsamic-Macerated Strawberries and Feta

1 baguette
5 oz arugula
1 pint fresh strawberries, sliced
1 1/2 cups balsamic vinegar
1 cup crumbled feta
olive oil
salt

Thinly slice baguette on the bias and brush one side of each slice with olive oil. Place on a baking sheet and bake in a 350 oven for about 8 minutes or until bread is slightly golden and toasted. This step could also be done on a grill. Bring the balsamic vinegar to a gentle boil in a heavy-bottomed sauce pan and reduce by about half and cool completely. Slice strawberries and combine with cooled vinegar for about 30 minutes. Toss arugula lightly with olive oil and salt. To assemble place a few leaves of arugula on each crostini. Top with macerated strawberries and crumbled feta. Serve immediately.

Note: The crostinis can be made several hours ahead of time and stored (once cooled) in an airtight container. The balsamic can also be reduced ahead of time. Simply combine strawberries and vinegar just a bit before serving and assemble when ready to eat.

Nothing says "I love you" like cheap food

With the folks in town, seems like I've been running around the kitchen like crazy. It's not that cooking for two extra people is much more work. It's more like I've got so much running through my brain that I could easily get sidetracked making a bowl of cold cereal.

That said, after we'd grilled flank steak, tested a delicious pasta recipe, had a burger night and visited Nathan's farm for some outstanding grilled salmon, my creative cooking well was in need of a stiff drink. That's when I decided on carnitas tacos.


Nothing says "I love you" like great, cheap food. We sat down at the picnic table in the back yard and ate with our hands. It's an unpretentious meal but not soon forgotten.

A while back I discovered this fabulous recipe. After you're done noticing how much more fabulous this blog is than mine, read the recipe. Then go make it. Pork, orange juice, salt and water never tasted so good.

Morning Treat

The cereal aisle of the grocery store was always a treat when I was kid. If we were really lucky, my sister and I each got to pick our own box. I remember really liking Smurf Berry Crunch, which must have been OK with Mom. But she did have her rules. Anything with marshmallows was out, along with anything else that was clearly dessert material masquerading in a bright colorful box with cartoon characters (although I do remember my sister going through quite the Cookie Crisp phase).

Whatever the case, I seemed to take a liking to these rules. To this day, if it is before 10 a.m. I can easily resist cookies, brownies, chocolate, Coke and the like. These were treats that were clearly not meant for the morning hour. That's why it feels a bit sinful to indulge in something studded with chocolate chips for breakfast.

Despite the rules, I made a dozen Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins for a few friends over the weekend. Both the kids and the grown ups ran around the back yard with a muffin in hand. That was really I all I needed to know, but when I returned to the kitchen after the house was quiet again, I saw only one lone muffin sitting on the platter. And it wasn't long before that one was gone, too.


Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins
Adapted from a Boston Cooking School Cookbook muffin recipe

2 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 cup plain yogurt
1/4 cup melted butter
1/2 cup chocolate chips
1 medium over-ripe banana, mashed well

Combine first four ingredients in a bowl. In another bowl, mix eggs, yogurt, butter and banana. Combine wet and dry ingredients and mix just until moistened. Fold in chocolate chips. Spoon batter into prepared muffin tins (greased or lined with paper cups). Bake at 400 degrees for approximately 15 minutes or until a toothpick insert comes out clean and tops are slightly golden. Let cool in tins for 10 minutes and then remove to continue cooling.

Sweet-Tart Memory

When Seth and I moved in together, I worked days and he worked the swing shift. That left breakfast as our only option for a meal together. Eight years later, we still sit down for breakfast together every day, something that we've grown to cherish.

In those early days, Seth wasn't into fruit, but I began making a fruit salad daily that consisted of sliced bananas, apples, pears, berries or whatever else we had on hand. I'd toss in a handful of nuts, a pinch of cinnamon and a drizzle of honey if the fruit wasn't sweet enough. Fruit is now an everyday routine. Today we usually just slice a pear or apple and have that with our morning meal. Every once in a while I buy grapefruit, and even though we're not exactly in the thick of grapefruit season, I rationalize it by knowing there is no grapefruit season period in the Northwest.

I like mine simple: halved and sprinkled with sugar. Of course I run knife around the edge, so the fruit segments will give with just a little help from a grapefruit spoon. My favorite part is the end when I get to squeeze the remaining juice into the spoon and gulp it down.


As a kid, I thought grapefruits were just something old people ate. My grandparents Mom and Pop had them regularly for breakfast, just the way I described with a sprinkle of sugar. We seldom ate them at my house growing up, and I'm not really sure what turned me on to them as an adult, but I love them. A ripe grapefruit with its sweet-tart taste is hard to beat. The best part, though, is that with one bite, I taste the memory of sitting at the bar in Mom's kitchen eating a microwave-cooked egg that my grandfather probably told me came from an elephant.

Grapefruits aren't just for old people, but I doubt I would have recognized how sweet they could be until I got a little old myself.

Broiler Bread

The broiler might just be one of the most underutilized kitchen tools. It's simple, everyone's got one and it's usually mess-free, which is a bonus in my kitchen.

And it's the broiler that saves me a lot of nights. I love to have bread with salads, pastas, soups and the like. But a loaf of fresh bread won't stay fresh long, and since I don't shop daily, by the end of the week I'm staring at a lone loaf of sandwich bread. That's OK, though. When that happens, I use a trick my mom did when I was growing up. It's easy: sandwich bread + butter + parm + a quick trip under the broiler.

I've updated the version, opting for fresh cheese instead of the kind in the green can, and I sub olive oil for butter. And when I really want to class it up I trim the crusts and cut the bread into triangles or long, thin rectangles. I like to top mine with red pepper flakes, but the possibilities are endless with this easy bread. Fresh chopped tomatoes, thinly sliced apple, chopped herbs or whatever else you've got in the kitchen.

And since this bread is of the economical variety, don't over spend on one of those tubs of shredded parm. Buy a large chunk, cut it into pieces the size a large eraser and pop it in the food processor (this probably works best in a good-quality food processor). It will make an alarming clank at first, but give it a second and it will begin to hum. Whiz until it's finely chopped. Store in an air tight container in the fridge for a few weeks.

One last tip: Don't walk away from the oven. Watch it. This bread cooks in literally a minute or two. Pull it out when it starts to brown and the cheese is melting.

Here's the how-to.

When is asparagus season over?

This is what Seth is asking now. I told him that soon it will disappear from the markets and we won't see it again for a year. That should give him plenty of time to forget the platefuls I've served this month. However, I've got about a pound of it still sitting in the fridge, though, so, honey, it ain't over yet.

Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback on the changes to the blog last week. I'm still tinkering to find the right mix of a quick-hit post as well as enough explanation so that you can make it yourself. This is hard for me. Seriously. Often, I would rather look at a picture of a dish and then just try to recreate it on a whim. But I am trying very hard to remember my brain may be the one out of alignment here. I'll try to offer up a few tips and steps, but they may not always amount to a full recipe. If you have questions, you're more than welcome to ask. I'll respond to comments, emails, Facebook or even the old telephone.

Back to asparagus. Again. This weekend we went to a potluck at my cousin's farm where he divided sidedish and dessert duties by the first letter of your last name. A-M got a side, and N-Z were assigned a dessert. P for Prince would mean dessert. M for McFall would mean a side. I fell to the sweet side and decided to make a flourless chocolate cake since the hostess is a gluten-free gal. In a bit of a hurry, I wasn't a slave to the recipe, and that's where it went awry. Needless to say, the cake was in no shape for a potluck table. Even if I pulled a McFall and asked "Who in the hell brought the uncooked chocolate mess?"


So, I pulled another McFall and decided to think quick, pretending that my mistake was planned all along -- it was all a ploy to get back to asparagus. I do have two last names, and it would be easy to claim the M. We hit up the farmer's market where I bought two huge bundles for my dish. I trimmed the ends and, working in batches, gave them a few quick tosses in a hot skillet with olive oil and salt. Then I transferred them to a sheet tray to cool while I worked on the next batch. The total cooking time was no more than 10 minutes for the entire batch (only about two minutes a batch). When I was done with the asparagus, I toasted a handful of pine nuts in the same skillet. The results were delicious, salty, still crispy spears. When I went to pick up my tray at the end of the evening there were only a couple of lonely spears and scattered nuts. I guess not everyone is sick of asparagus just yet.

Tip: Asparagus will keep longer if you give it a little drink. The bundled spears will stay upright if you keep the rubber band on. You can use just about any dish, but I like to use old yogurt containers. Just put about an inch of water in the bottom and add the asparagus. You'll probably want to change the water in a day or two if you haven't used them by then.

How to buy: Look for bright green bundles that are firm and not limp. The tips should be closed tightly. The size of asparagus does not matter greatly, but the smaller are more tender. If you plan on grilling, the larger ones are great.

Season: Now! Asparagus is a spring crop. If you're buying it in any other season it's probably not from this country. If you want it out of season, look for frozen. The canned variety does no justice to this vegetable.

Beyond Guacamole

Baby food has a way of curling an adult's lip. It leaves you thinking that oatmeal should never have the same color and texture as turkey and rice. And rightly so. But, as babies do, they'll eat some, showing little discretion, and paint the kitchen with the rest.

I hadn't thought of sharing Jasper's food with you until Seth encouraged it. For the past few months we've had fun exploring tastes and textures with our little guy. I've been making his food, except a few generic Cheerios that I buy in bulk. I whiz peas, steamed squash, steamed broccoli and the like in the food processor and freeze portions in my silicone muffin pan. And even though this isn't too much trouble, sometimes I need a 30-second meal for the little guy. OK, I need quick meals a lot, not just on a rare occasion.

That's when I make a Avocado Banana Mash. No cooking. Travels well. Only a fork is required. And before you curl up your lip, take a taste. It's delicious. And it even looks like avocado and banana mashed together to boot!


Before I run off taking credit for this tasty combination, I have tell you that a good chunk of the world has been eating it for quite some time. In several Asian countries, vendors sell avocado smoothies, a combination of avocado and yogurt whizzed in the blender. And when we visited Morocco, I first saw someone making them on the tiny alleys of Chefchaouen. I'd never heard of it, and my friend Abdul had to explain it to me twice. Seeing as if avocados are the one food I'd take with me to a deserted island, I couldn't wait to try one. The ones we sampled in Africa had banana in them as well with a touch of honey.

So maybe it's time to think beyond guacamole. A ripe avocado isn't just for condiments or dips. It can just as easily be the star of the show.

Tip: Avocados are ripe when the skin is dark but the fruit is still slightly firm and the stem pops of with only the slightest of pressure. Avocado browns quickly once cut. Acid such as citrus juice or vinegar slows the process. These dishes, especially the mash, will brown quickly, but it does not alter the flavor. To save the remaining avocado, wrap tightly in plastic and refrigerate.

Avocado Banana Mash
1/4 of a large, ripe banana
1/4 of a medium, ripe avocado

With the back of a fork, mash together banana and avocado until desired consistency is reached.

Avocado Banana Smoothie
1/2 of a large, ripe banana
1/2 of a medium, ripe avocado
3/4 cup of plain yogurt (low fat or non fat is OK)

Toss the ingredients in the blender and whiz them together. Taste. Adjust to your liking by adding more banana to make it sweeter or more avocado to make it more savory. If you take it even sweeter, add a drizzle of honey.

Brown Bag

Egg Salad Sandwich

Lunch Date: The perfect brown bag sandwich. Thanks to some neighborhood chickens, and their generous owners who share, we have been eating lots of eggs this week. I make my egg salad with a little bit of dried dill and S&P and pair it with some fresh arugula.

Pizza Party

Asparagus, Pine Nut & Chevre Pizza

Yep: I really do have asparagus every day. This is a super simple dish that was great. It looks like we dined light, but I also made a sausage pizza! We ate pizza, drank a beer and watched "Lost." Good night. Click here for the dough recipe.

Springtime Grillin'

Grilled Lamb Chops alongside Green Salad with sauteed mushrooms, pine nuts and Chevre & Grilled Veggies

More: Marinated the lamb in white wine and grainy mustard; served medium. The warm mushrooms and toasted pine nuts were yummy with the goat cheese. Yes, asparagus is served daily at my house in May!

A New Treat

Today I'm adding something new to The Dinner Hour. In addition to my regular Monday posts, I will also add quick takes on recent meals throughout the week. Often, these will simply include a photo and simple explanation. I'm curious to know how you like it, so please speak up. It's easy to leave a comment just below each post. Thanks for keeping up with The Dinner Hour. Cheers, Amy

Grilled Chicken Tacos, Pantry Slaw and Grilled Asparagus

Tip: Use chicken thighs. They're cheaper and are very forgiving on the grill compared to breasts because the additional fat keeps them moist and delicious.

A Dish on the Fly

In college, I waited tables at a Chili's. I'd come home to my apartment with aching feet, a grease-stained shirt and hair that smelled like burgers and fries. Despite all of that, I really liked my job. I loved being part of something that until then, seemed so secretive to me. I'd never been in a restaurant kitchen. I'd eaten at restaurant, but never known just how it all came together. One of the things I loved about my job was learning all the lingo. Understanding it all made me feel like part of the club.

"On the fly" is restaurant speak for pronto. It's a phrase that's good to know, but one you hope you don't have to use much. It makes you very unpopular. As a server, it's hard to say it to a cook and not make it sound like marching orders. Of course, I was usually using it because I forgot to add something to my ticket -- like when you send in an entire order and forget your table ordered an appetizer until you see their entrees sitting in the window. If it was a simple green salad, the cooks might give you only a minimal amount of crap. If it was something fried that simply had to spend six minutes in the bubbling oil, and the fry cook was already backed up because customers can't get enough of those Chicken Crispers, you'd be lucky if the cooks (who were typically men) weren't making sexist, blonde jokes every time you passed by. For the rest of your waitressing career.

Thankfully now, I only have myself to tick off when I don't catch something early. Like last week when I discovered at the last minute that an event I was going to was a potluck. Scrambling, I did a mental inventory of my pantry. It seemed everything I had on hand would give me a mere two servings or so.

I settled on a bag of pasta and some frozen peas.

The result was tasty and, thankfully, easy. I've been making a version of this for quite some time, just altering it slightly based on whatever I've got in the kitchen. It's simple, and, frankly, doesn't require a recipe. I'll tell you how I made this one, but don't feel obligated to duplicate. I added avocado because I thought it would make the color a beautiful green, which it was, even if only slightly once it mingled with the pasta.


I made the same salad recently without the avocado, added shredded carrots and diced red bell pepper. Sometimes I even add tuna to make it more of a meal. That said, I dutifully ate the remainder of this salad for lunch straight from the bowl while standing over the sink. The best part about this recipe, is that it comes straight from staples you can have on hand at any time. And you never know when you'll slip up and forget, or, even better, when you'll have an impromptu invitation. Now you don't have to show up empty handed.


Green Pasta Salad

1/2 cup mayo
1 small avocado
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar (or lemon juice)
1 small bunch of flat leaf parsley
1 pound of small pasta such as shells
3 cups (roughly) frozen peas, thawed
Salt and Pepper

Cook pasta until al dente. Drain, rinse to cool and drain again. Toss pasta in a light drizzle of oil and set aside. Process first four ingredients in a food processor, reserving a small portion of parsley for garnish. Combine pasta, with mayo dressing and peas. Add chopped parsley on top for garnish. Cover and chill until ready to serve.

Note: If you don't add avocado, you don't need the vinegar or lemon juice, which is just added to help the avocado keep its color.

Spring's Reminder

Sometimes it's something as simple as a 1980s pop song you remember choreographing a dance to at a grade-school sleepover. Like listening to Paula Abdul's "Opposites Attract" while a friend and I made up steps and laughed the night away. The song is insignificant. The real memory is being a kid with my best friend, having fun. The song is just the connection. The mere mention of it, and I'm immediately transported to her living room, covered with sleeping bags and the cassette in the boom box.

Sometimes those triggers make you smile at the past. Others pull a sad memory from somewhere deep, like the broccoli and rice casserole my mom made when my best friend's brother died. And still others make us giddy at the thought of what's to come.

That's where asparagus lives in my mind. Just when I think that I'll never again feel the green grass under my toes while the sun warms my feet because the gray, the rain and the chilly mornings just won't give way to clear blue skies, asparagus appears at the farmers' market. Its brilliant green stalks are a beacon of summer amid pears and apples that are past their prime.

Asparagus means that the seasons are changing, and summer, my favorite season, will indeed show its sunny face again if we just hang on a few more weeks.


Now, I think that asparagus is quite beautiful just standing there in tidy bundles, upright and sitting in a shallow pool of water to keep hydrated. Some stalks thick as thumbs and others skinny as dandelions, all with bushy spears that yield to the most tender of touches.

Asparagus is also the perfect way to get re-acquainted with the bounty that is about to surface. When you get fresh, beautiful fruits and veggies, they really don't need much coaxing to make you fall in love.

Yes, you could blanch your asparagus and wrap them in prosciutto if you want to impress your neighbors. But if you just want a delicious treat, think simple. In fact, you could prepare this veggie blindfolded. Seriously, you don't need a knife. Just trim them by holding one end of a stalk in each hand and bend. Once it breaks, toss the thick end that was cut from the ground and use the remaining, tender end for eating.


Then, just toss the asparagus in some olive oil, salt and pepper. I like to use a glass baking dish for this because the nice flat bottom makes a great place to roll them in the oil. Then just apply a little heat. I like the grill, but you can also pop them in a medium-hot oven for a few minutes. Asparagus is best if it's not overcooked, but cooked just enough to bring out its natural sweetness and still maintain the slightest bite.

Serve 'em hot or room temp. Add a squeeze of lemon juice if you like. Often times, we eat ours right as we pull them off the grill.

However you enjoy them, do it quick. Summer will be here soon and asparagus season will disappear again until next spring. The good news, though, is that we'll have the sun to warm our spirits.

Chocolate Treat

Sometimes the world needs a little chocolate.

I wasn't much of a chocolate person until I sat next to a self-proclaimed chocolate addict back when I was a newspaper reporter. Colleagues knew she loved chocolate so much they'd bring her little candies and chocolate treats. She had the kind of self-discipline, however, that allowed her to indulge. She'd hit the gym on her lunch break, and she'd set aside the little candies on her desk waiting for the late-afternoon energy dip.

I, on the other hand, could not let any piece of food -- be it chocolate or cheese -- sit there teasing me for hours before I chose to indulge. Perhaps I have other admirable qualities, but willpower is not one of them.

Slowly, she converted me, even if I couldn't save a piece for later to save my life.

So now that I consider myself a "chocolate person," I thought it best that I have a good brownie recipe in my stash.

I'm not sure any brownie will compare to the ones we made at ATT that were about four-inches square and contained copious amounts of dark chocolate. But I think this recipes makes a brownie fit for a good Sundae. The results are a dense chocolate bar that holds its structure fairly well -- the one thing the boxed variety doesn't seem to have.

Next time you make brownies, take a tip from the pros and line your pan with parchment paper (you may need to grease the pan anyways). Then, when the brownies are baked and completely cooled, invert the pan and slide the entire thing right out and place it upright on the counter. Then, cut away the outer half-inch or so and cut your squares from that. This will leave you with uniform brownies, which look much more beautiful on a white plate than the dingy pan anyways. (And don't throw away those trimmings. They are usually a little crisp, so crumble them up and use them to top ice cream!)


This recipe called for hazelnuts, which I left out because I wasn't sure if my crowd was of the nut-eating variety. And instead of chunks of chocolate, I simply used dark chocolate chips, which seemed to work just fine. If you're not familiar with creme de cacao, it's a chocolate-flavored liqueur. Before Godiva and Starbucks got into the liqueur-making business, creme de cacao was the staple for cocktails. And, thank goodness, it's much cheaper that the name-brand varieties.

Whether you turn your brownie into a sundae or just eat the thing alone, it's hard not to savor just a quick moment of bliss. Chocolate can do wonders. One other thing about that old co-worker who savored her chocolate treats: She was always happy.

Triple-Sin Brownies
From Lari Robling's Endangered Recipes: Too Good to be Forgotten
1 1/3 cups flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 sticks (1/2 pound) butter
1 1/3 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon creme de cacao
1/2 cup toasted hazelnuts, chopped
1 ounce semisweet chocolate, cut into chunks

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray and 8-inch square baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. In a medium bowl, sift or blend together flour, cocoa, and salt. Set aside. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add flour mixture to butter mixture and beat well. Add vanilla and creme de cacao. Mix well. Blend in nuts and chocolate. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 45 to 50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Makes 9 brownies.

Simple French

After last week's post, I got to thinking once again about the woman whose husband volunteered her to make deviled eggs. I wondered what she did with all of her pitted eggs. Then I thought I should mention that in case any of you ever end up with eggs you feel are unfit for deviling, please, please, please turn them into egg salad. Eggs, mayonnaise, salt, pepper and bit of dried dill make a heavenly combination. And one more thing, Seth deserves credit for this beautiful photo and last week's. He wanted to prove to me that I do not need a new camera. Point taken.

OK, now on with this week. The weather around here is fantastic, and frankly, I can't come up with a reason to be on the computer too long. Or for that matter, even be in the kitchen too long. It's days like this when you need simplicity in the kitchen, not because you have a million things to do. Just because. You want to soak up the sun, play in the yard or take a nice walk.

So, I thought I'd offer up quite possibly one of the simplest dishes I could think of: Buttered radishes with sea salt. It's crisp and creamy, spicy and sweet and salty. If this sounds a bit odd, just try it. Does it help if I say it's French? It is, really. You could tell that to your friends when you offer them up as a light snack or appetizer. But I think once they take a bite, they won't care. They'll even praise your culinary skills, leaving you thinking, "I sliced a radish and slathered butter and sea salt on it. How Julia Child am I?"

But go ahead and be polite. Thank them for the compliment. Then, if someone asks for the recipe, it's OK to be snarky and think, "I sliced a radish and slathered butter and sea salt on it. Julia Child you are not."

Deviled Eggs

I remember reading a newspaper story a few years ago about a woman whose husband volunteered to bring deviled eggs to an office potluck. And while the woman put her best whisk forward, she simply couldn't manage to peel the hard-boiled eggs without mangling them. In the end, she called the local deli and placed an order. Thinking of the story still makes me smile. I'm sure she wasn't the first home cook to try to pass off deli cooking for her own. I think any home cook who's had a kitchen disaster on deadline knows when to draw the line.


Making a deviled egg really is a simple task once you get beyond peeling the eggs. Some commercial kitchens even buy peeled, hard-boiled eggs because the task of peeling can be so labor intensive. The trouble is that often it's hard to get the thin membrane that sits just beneath the shell to peel away without taking a chunk of the white with it. Sometimes it's a breeze and the entire shell will practically slide away like a dab of butter on a hot skillet. But other times it seems the shell just won't wield to even the strongest of thumbnails.

There are a few things that can improve your egg-peeling odds. First, start with eggs that aren't fresh. You don't often hear those words come from a food blog, but seriously, the fresher your eggs, the less likely you are to be able to pry the shell off of them. If you've ever tried to peel a hard-boiled egg that you plucked from a chicken coop, you know what I'm talking about. Both the shell and its inner membrane are much tougher on a fresh egg. Over time, they begin to deteriorate. The thinner they are, the easier they slip off.

So how do you know if your eggs are fresh? Well, one sign is to look at the yolk of a cracked egg. If it has a little white tail coming off of one end, the egg is still fairly fresh. That little tail will also deteriorate and disappear with time. If you're buying eggs at the grocery store, you can simply look at the date on the side of the carton. If you happen to be lucky enough to have a neighbor with chickens, your eggs are likely way fresher than any you'd ever find at the grocery store. Typically, you're on the lookout for expiration dates as far from the current date as possible. If you're picking up eggs you plan on hard boiling, look for a carton with the date closest to the current day. Or simply pick up your eggs several days in advance.

To help improve your odds even more, put the hard-cooked eggs, unpeeled, in a pot and clang it around. The eggs will crash into each other and the sides of the pot, cracking the shells in a much better way than you could do on your own.

Whatever the case, please don't let a little torn egg white stop you from making these deviled eggs. Once you slice them and pipe the filling in, the outside of the egg becomes the backside of your deviled egg. So no one will ever know how well you peeled them. And even if they cared, they'd forget as soon as they popped one into their mouth.

This recipe comes from Ruth Reichl's Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table. Reichl, who stumbled into the food journalism business through the back door and now is the editor of Gourmet, describes in the book when she met Marion Cunningham of the Fannie Farmer cookbooks at cocktail party honoring James Beard. Reichl was new to the business and knew few of the foodies of the moment. She asked Cunningham if she was someone famous. Cunningham laughed and replied that she was one of the last home cooks.

Marion's Deviled Eggs
From Ruth Reichl's Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table

4 hard-boiled eggs
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon cider vinegar
1 teaspoon ballpark mustard
Salt and pepper

Shell eggs. Carefully cut in half lengthwise, and place yolks in a bowl. Mash yolks with a fork until smooth. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. The mixture should be thick and creamy.
Fill each egg white half with yolk mixture. Grate a bit of pepper on top. Refrigerate until needed.