Smoked Salmon on Sourdough with Eggs and Kale

Let's say you have a big package of wild smoked salmon on hand, from Costco, and a few pastured eggs, and some Red Russian kale growing in your garden.*

And let's say you have very little energy, but feel compelled to make something whole-foody and home-cooked because you vaguely remember that there's some reason you tend to find that important, on days when you're not too tired to think, and you strongly suspect that one of those days is coming up sometime in the next few weeks and that Untired You will look back on Tired You with sad disapproval if Tired You doesn't cook something today, and you can just imagine the sad, sorrowful shake of the head that Untired and Disgustingly Energetic Future You will throw back in the direction of Tired and Somewhat Pathetically Lethargic Past You, and you cannot bear it. You cannot. And also you cannot bear the thought of something oversalted and processed, because you've gotten addicted to deliciousness and you just can't stop eating it.

If such a thing should happen, I suggest you make this. Future You will be totally jealous.

Ingredients (per person)
2 slices sourdough or multigrain sourdough bread
A few slices smoked salmon (enough for one layer on the sandwich)
1 egg
Olive oil
1 small clove garlic, chopped
A generous handful of sliced kale (that's been cut into thin ribbons and washed carefully)
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add a glug of olive oil, then add the garlic and saute for 20-30 seconds until soft. Add the kale and saute, stirring occasionally, until the leaves begin to wilt and the stems begin to soften a bit. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and push to the side of the pan.

In the other side of the pan, drizzle a bit more olive oil and then break the egg directly into it. Let sit for a moment, then slowly push the spatula through the egg once to break the yolk. Let sit for another moment, then repeat, so that you're slowly stirring the egg to cook evenly while only partially blending the yolk and the white (at the end, there should still be some distinct white and yellow parts). Stir the kale once or twice in the meantime.

Toast the bread.

When the egg is no longer runny, turn off the heat, and assemble the sandwich in layers: Smoked salmon over the bottom piece of toast, then egg, then kale. Sprinkle with freshly ground pepper. (If the toast is on the dry side, sprinkle the bottom and/or top piece with a little olive oil.)

Cut sandwich in half, and serve hot.

*Incidentally, kale is both easy to grow and keep producing year-round, or at least nearly year-round if you live in frosty climes...and fresh baby kale from the garden is amazing. Grow it. Future You will thank you.

Sauteed Pea Shoots with Garlic Butter

There were pea shoots in our CSA box this week.

Not little baby pea shoots, like the ones that come in a nice safe-looking plastic container from the store. No, these were big, emphatic pea shoots. Pea shoots that meant business. Young and tender, yes, but still. There was no mistaking them for sprouts. No pretending they were not, basically, large pieces of a vine.

The box insert seemed to imply that they were edible. At least, I assume that a recipe for chicken and cilantro with pea shoots suggests you should put the pea shoots in with the chicken, and eat them both.

 
The internets said sugar snap pea shoots are edible, and other pea shoots are poisonous.

We said: "Surely our beloved CSA box wouldn't poison us."

And then we said: "Surely our beloved CSA box wouldn't poison us intentionally."

We Googled "sugar snap pea shoots" and compared and contrasted the pictures with our bowl full of loosely identified vegetable matter. We tilted our heads and squinted. We reassured each other about the similarity of the leaf shape in the photograph and the leaf shape in our hands. We reiterated the point about our CSA box not poisoning us. We made courageous declarations about boldly going where smarter people might not be particularly inclined to go. We steeled our steadfast stomachs.

We cooked the pea shoots. We ate them.

So far, you will be happy to know, we are decidedly alive, and these were decidedly delectable.


Ingredients
A big bowl full of young sugar snap pea shoots, cut or pinched into 3-inch pieces
(if you pinch them apart with your fingertips, you can tell if they're tender -- if you come across a tough piece, toss it out)
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, smashed
1 tsp black mustard seeds
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Heat butter and olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot, add the garlic and mustard seeds and saute for about 2 minutes. Add the pea shoots, sprinkle with salt, and saute, tossing from time to time, for 2 minutes or until most of the leaves have just wilted. Turn off the heat, toss once more, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

Serves 2-4, and pairs well with Sri Lankan dal curry or fish.

Intermission

Allow me to wander away from recipes for just a moment,

because I am thinking, today, not just about food,

but about life (and death)

and how one thing changes into another

and how we live most at the spaces where our lives intersect

 and how one of those spaces is a table

over which food is shared

and laughter spills

and the world takes on its meaning.

 

The Food in Our Food

In light of the recent media commotion over the ammonia-washed waste trimmings in our beef and caffeine-and-benadryl stuffed chicken (who are apparently also fed their own feathers, laced with arsenic and old lace...I mean, delicious anti-microbials), you may be finding yourself craving some food that didn't come from an industrial farm.

For example. You know those nasturtiums growing in your back yard? Turns out they're delicious. And rarely fed feathers or washed with ammonia. It's like a win-win situation.

To make them the centerpiece of your dinnertime salad, whisk up a vinaigrette of olive oil, sherry vinegar, salt, and pepper, drizzle lightly over baby greens and toss well. Top with diced grapefruit or pomelo, lightly toasted pine nuts, and a little crumbled goat cheese. Scatter with nasturtium petals and/or whole flowers, and serve alongside roasted beets, or risotto, or sablefish.

None of which have ever been ingredients in dog food. There's something comforting about that.

Halibut with Ginger and Shiitake Mushrooms

There may be a glitch in the matrix.

The thing is, after repeatedly sampling this halibut recipe, I can say in no uncertain terms that it's the best halibut ever (on dramatic days, I have been known to generalize beyond halibut to all fish, hot foods, or objects in the solar system). But then last night, for inexplicable reasons, I made this new recipe instead. And it...here's where the glitch comes in...it also seems to be the best halibut ever.

Obviously, a philosophical conundrum such as this can only be resolved through tireless and repeated empirical investigation. I'll get back to you when I've gotten to the bottom of it (or to the bottom of the Co-op's fish supply, whichever comes first). In the meantime, feel free to engage in your own scientific tests -- for the benefit of humankind, of course, and for the benefit of dinner.

Serve over brown or black rice, and pair with some sort of vegetable. This recipe is fairly simple and quick, as long as you remember to start the rice ahead of time.


Ingredients
1/2 - 2/3 lbs halibut (enough for two)
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 scallions, white and light green parts, sliced
2 medium cloves garlic, chopped
Several thin slices ginger, julienned (nearly twice as much ginger as garlic, volume-wise)
12-15 shiitake mushrooms, brushed clean, stems removed, and cut in half
(or sliced in thirds, if especially large)
3 oz sake (rice wine)
Lemon wedges or halves

Sprinkle the fish with salt and black pepper, then dredge in the flour.

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot, drizzle the bottom lightly with olive oil, then add the fish. Pan fry for several minutes until golden brown on the bottom, then flip. (If you've cut the piece of fish in half already and it's fairly thick, you may be able to brown all four sides. If not, turn the heat down a bit so that the fish can cook through before the bottom gets too dark.)

After you've flipped the fish, heat a glug of olive oil in another pan over medium heat (or, if you're lazy like me and have a big enough pan, push the fish to the side of the first pan and do this on the other side while it cooks). Add the ginger and scallions, stir a few times, then add the garlic and turn the heat down just a bit. Saute for 15-20 seconds, then add the mushrooms and stir to coat. Continue cooking the mushrooms, stirring occasionally and without crowding them, until they start to lightly brown.

Just before the fish is cooked through, remove it from the pan and set aside.

Sprinkle the mushrooms with a pinch of salt, stir, then add the sake and turn off the heat. Stir a few times as the sake simmers. Serve the fish over rice, and spoon the sauce over the top. Garnish with a generous wedge of lemon, and serve hot.

Serves 2.

Conquering the Cauliflower, Phase III: Leftovers

Lunch in less than ten minutes. Or rather, a gourmet, local, whole foods lunch in less than ten minutes. Can't really beat that.

Step 1: Make this recipe, alongside some fish or chicken or whatever over wild rice (if you make about a cup of wild rice, you can use two-thirds of it for a two-person dinner and save the last third for this recipe).

Step 2: Gleefully remove leftovers from fridge the next day, and make this:

Ingredients
About 2 cups leftover roasted cauliflower
Three big handfuls spinach leaves
1 cup leftover cooked wild rice
1-2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp sherry vinegar
1 tbsp whole grain mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Throw the spinach into a pot, cover, set over medium heat, and cook until the leaves just start to wilt from the steam (or zap in the microwave for about 30 seconds).

Whisk the olive oil, vinegar, mustard, salt, and pepper together to form an emulsion. Toss with the wilted spinach till the leaves are evenly coated, then add the wild rice and mix well.

Reheat the cauliflower in the microwave for about 1 1/2 minutes on high or until warm but not scalding. Serve over a bed of the spinach-wild rice mixture.

Serves two for a quick and easy and amazingly delicious lunch.

Conquering the Cauliflower, Phase II: Roasted

Cauliflower 2.0. How does it compare to the previous version? Doubtless only time...and repeated sampling...can tell.

This is getting to be an old hat but...you remember that thing I said I wasn't sure if I really liked last week? Well I love it now. Totally mesmerized. Deliciously addicted. Can't possibly stop eating it ever even in a million years ooh wait look what's that?

Ingredients

Olive oil

1 to 1 1/2 heads cauliflower, divided into florets

1 small to medium red onion, quartered lengthwise and sliced into quarter rings

1 slice whole grain bread, coarsely chopped

2 tsp capers, soaked in water for 1/2 hour and rinsed

Kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Drizzle cauliflower and onions with olive oil and toss till lightly coated. Pour into a nonstick baking pan, a couple layers deep, and roast for 45 minutes or until browned and tender, stirring every 15 minutes or so.

Meanwhile, heat a little olive oil in a pan over medium heat. When hot, add the bread and capers and fry, stirring, until golden brown.

When the cauliflower is done, drizzle with just a little more olive oil if it's a bit dry. Sprinkle with salt, add the toasted bread and capers, stir, and serve hot.

Serves 4, or two for dinner (pairs well with sablefish over wild rice) and two for lunch the next day (recipe coming soon to a blog near you).

Conquering the Cauliflower, Phase I: The Iron Skillet

It has long been my dream to conquer the cauliflower. Partly because of the alliteration, and partly because—let's face it—the cauliflower is unexciting. Bland. Boring. Unmemorable.

There's nothing wrong with it...it's just not the sort of vegetable one would rave about. No one has ever been moved to expound upon the cauliflower. No sonnets have been written. No Trojan ramekins delivered. No exclusive cookbooks devoted to the cause. (Okay, probably this last one's not true. But you get the idea.)

Except that then, one day, we ordered some cauliflower at Tuli Bistro, and I realized the error of my ways. Cauliflower, it turned out, was neither bland nor boring. Steamed cauliflower is bland and boring. Boiled cauliflower is bland and boring. Cauliflower done right is momentously, shockingly delicious.

Ingredients
1 head cauliflower (green* or white), divided into smallish florets
Olive oil
1 yellow onion, halved and sliced into thin half rings
2 tbsp golden raisins
1 tbsp pine nuts
1/4-1/3 cup veggie broth
Kosher salt
Freshly ground white pepper
Lemon wedges

Heat a large cast iron skillet over medium heat. When hot, add a generous glug or two of olive oil, and swirl to coat the pan. After a few seconds, add the onion. Saute, stirring occasionally, until the onion softens and begins to smell sweet.

Push the onion to the side of the pan, and add the pine nuts to the other side. Stir until lightly toasted on one side, then combine with the onion and continue cooking until the onion just starts to turn golden here and there. Add the sultanas, stir once, then add the cauliflower and stir to combine. (If you had a large head of cauliflower, you may run out of room...just stick the rest in the fridge for later rather than overflowing the pan.)

Drizzle liberally with more olive oil and pan-fry for 4-5 minutes, stirring from time to time. Add a pinch or two of salt and a slosh of broth (just enough to create some steam -- about 1/8 cup), cover, and turn the heat down to medium-low. Steam for 12-15 minutes, checking and stirring at 3 minute intervals (and adding a little more broth when it starts to dry out again). The goal is for the bottom to turn golden brown (without burning), while the cauliflower cooks through. So, if it starts to brown too much, turn the heat down a little and add a bit more broth. If it's not browning at all, turn the heat up a touch or wait longer before stirring, and don't add more broth yet.

When the cauliflower is nicely browned and tender (a fork should insert easily), turn off the heat. Sprinkle with a salt and white pepper to taste, drizzle very lightly with lemon juice, stir once, and serve. Garnish with lemon wedges on the side.

Serves 3-4.

*Green cauliflower, it turns out, is higher in protein than the white variety. Also it's green. Also cauliflower is a complete protein (who knew?). Also—did I mention?—it is shockingly delicious.

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: California Citrus

 

Cast of Characters

The Pomelo: A giant, yellow, grapefruit-like citrus that is all sweet and no bitter.

(Unlike a grapefruit, you don't have to convince yourself to eat it because it's

good for you—it's entirely delicious.)

Perfect for a light breakfast.

 The Kumquat: Pop into your mouth whole for a burst of sweet and sour, or slice and toss with apples and limoncello for dessert, or saute for just a minute with a pat of butter and a liberal sprinkling of sugar to serve over buttered toast for breakfast. 

  

 

The Cara Cara Orange: Rosy-hued, juicy, and sweet (not to mention completely addictive).

French Toast with Cinnamon Apple Compote

For mornings when all you want for breakfast is a plate of dessert, extra flavor, hold the guilt.

 
Ingredients
2-4 slices fresh bakery bread, cut 1/2 to 3/4" thick (enough for two; whole grain works well)
3 pastured eggs*
1-2 oz pastured whole milk
Cinnamon
Freshly grated nutmeg
Pastured butter
1 apple, peeled and flat-diced (or zanziputted, if you will, which I would and did)
Brown sugar
Maple syrup

Beat the eggs in a casserole dish, then stir in the milk. Sprinkle with cinnamon and freshly grated nutmeg. Dunk the bread into the egg mixture, then flip and let soak for 3-5 minutes (note that whole grain bread takes longer to soak up the egg, so give it the full five minutes).

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add a small pat of butter—just enough to very lightly brush over the bottom of the pan. Add the bread and cook several minutes until golden brown on the bottom, then flip. (Note that if your slices are on the thicker side, you may want to turn the heat down a bit at this point to give the bread enough time to cook all the way through.) Continue cooking until both sides are golden brown, then set aside on a heated plate to keep warm if there's another batch to cook (or use a piece of aluminum foil loosely folded in half, which tends to keep the heat in well).

Meanwhile, heat a small pan over medium heat. Add a pat of butter (about 1/2 tbsp) and let melt, then add 1-2 tsp brown sugar and stir. Simmer for about 20 seconds, then add the apples and stir to coat. Saute for a minute, sprinkle with cinnamon, then turn the heat to low and cover the pan. Let cook gently for another couple of minutes until the apples start to release their juices (I like leaving them a little crunchy, but you could cook them for longer if you prefer). Turn off the heat.

Serve the french toast topped with apple compote, with maple syrup on the side.

Serves 2.



*In addition to being lower in cholesterol and better tasting, eggs from pastured chickens also make a lovely, brilliantly yellow french toast because the yolks are so bright.

(And yes, they're more expensive than industrial or faux-healthy eggs. But that's kind of like pointing out that fresh fruit is more expensive than a fruit roll-up...it may be true, but if someone suggested filling up your cart with processed fruit-flavored snacks rather than strawberries to save a couple dollars on groceries, you would presumably sit them down and give them a lecture on comparing apples to plastic oranges.)