Three Sisters Griddle Cakes

Inspired by this gorgeous book by Robin Wall Kimmerer, our family has been talking this week about the Indigenous practice of planting corn, beans, and squash together in a Three Sisters garden as a way of learning about interdependence, reciprocity, and taking care of each other and the land. These three plants nourish each other and the people who plant them. This Three Sisters griddle cake, adapted from this recipe, brings the three together—gifts from the land—and asks what we will give in return.

This is easiest to make if you can cook something with kabocha squash and/or adzuki beans earlier in the week, and just save a bit of the leftovers, rather than having to cook each one from scratch.

Ingredients
½ cup coarse ground cornmeal
2 tbsp all-purpose flour
2 tbsp whole wheat flour
1 tsp chili powder
¼ tsp cumin
Pinch dried thyme
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 large egg
½ cup milk
1 tbsp butter, melted
1 tbsp honey
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
½ cup cooked adzuki beans
½ cup diced roasted kabocha squash (or substitute roasted butternut)
1 green onion, finely chopped
Olive oil, for frying

Combine the dry ingredients (cornmeal, flours, spices and herbs, baking powder and salt) together in a medium bowl. 

In a separate smaller bowl, beat the egg and then whisk in the milk, butter, and honey. Stir in the corn, beans, squash, and green onions. Then, pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir to combine.

Heat a pan over medium heat. When hot, drizzle with olive oil. Drop the batter by the tablespoonful into the pan, using about 2 tbsp per cake. If it stays very high. use the spoon to flatten it a bit so that it will cook through. Cook about 2-3 minutes per side or until golden brown and cooked through (you may need to turn the heat down a bit after the first side—the batter is thick and these will take awhile to cook all the way through).

Remove from pan onto a paper towel to soak up any excess oil. Serve hot.

Makes 9 cakes.

Roasted Delicata with Yuzu and Pistachio

Here's an easy wintry side dish that's perfect for a dinner party (easy to scale up and just as delicious when it's at room temperature). The citrus and basil add a lovely high note counterpoint to the deeper tones of squash and pistachio.

Ingredients
Olive oil
3-4 delicata squash, halved lengthwise, seeds scraped out, and cut into 1/2'' slices
Zest of 2 yuzus, Meyer lemons, and/or tangerines
2 handfuls shelled pistachios, lightly crushed or coarsely chopped
1 large handful (about .5 oz) basil leaves, chiffonade
Kosher salt
White pepper (optional)

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Toss the delicata with a glug or two of olive oil and about 3/4 of the citrus zest. Lay in a single layer on a baking sheet and roast for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and turn them if they have started to brown on the bottom (they may not, if the baking pan is crowded, which is fine). Sprinkle with pistachios, then return to the oven and continue roasting for 10 minutes more or until squash is tender.

Let squash cool slightly, then sprinkle with salt and toss with the basil. Adjust salt and citrus zest to taste, add pepper if desired, then serve. Good warm or at room temperature; reheats well the next day.

Serves 4-8.

Slow-Baked Salmon with Lemon and Thyme

I recently found myself in the alarming position of agreeing to cook dinner for 25 people.

Actually, I should rephrase. "Agree" implies that I had some say in the matter. I was unilaterally volunteered to cook dinner for 25.

I raised the possibility that perhaps this was an egregious error. Maybe they meant 2.5? 2.5 people seems feasible. I could do 2.5.

"2.5 people?" I asked.

No. Definitely 25. And they definitely meant me.

At this point, I may or may not have seriously considered moving to a small island off the coast of Thailand.

Here's the thing: I don't cook for 25. I don't cook for ten. I cook for one or two or sometimes four. And a lot of the things I make aren't particularly scale-uppable...you can't quintuple a risotto and expect it to cook the same way (in fact, we tried once in college and dinner was about three hours late). Pan-frying is obviously limited to the number of things you can fit in the pan. Homemade pasta would take days. My obsession with vegetables is heavily contingent on them caramelizing in some way, which gets harder or impossible if you crowd them together.

Plus: Most people tend to expect dinner to involve some central meat thing, and I don't really do central meat things. (Let's be clear: I haven't the foggiest. I would undercook, or overcook, or accidentally make kale instead of a pork roast.) The point being, I had no idea what to do. None.

Fortunately, I was saved by the miracle of slow-baked salmon. Miraculous because—are you ready?—it is easy AND dreamily delicious AND scale-uppable AND fancy-looking. Oh, and it tells you when it's done. The technique was made for a dinner party. Or in my case, a small team of intrepid chefs determined to serve up California cuisine to a couple of dozen hungry academics in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

Adapted from this recipe, and perfect over Israeli couscous (especially if after cooking the couscous, you stir in a tab of butter, a pinch of thyme, some chopped parsley, a bit of lemon zest, and some lemon juice).

Ingredients
12-13 oz wild salmon fillet*

1 tbsp olive oil
Zest of ½ lemon (about 1 tbsp)
½ tbsp chopped fresh thyme
1 small clove garlic, pressed
Small slosh white wine (just enough to moisten mixture slightly)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Lemon wedges & parsley for garnish

Preheat oven to 275°F.

Combine the olive oil, lemon zest, thyme, and garlic. Add about 1 tsp of white wine—just enough to make the mixture easier to spread, without being runny. (If you're scaling the recipe up, still start with this much wine and then add a little bit more if needed.)

Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Lightly oil it, then place salmon skin-side down. Spread the lemon zest mixture evenly over the top, then sprinkle with salt and (lightly) with pepper. Let sit 10 minutes for flavors to blend.

Bake for 20-21 minutes until the fat melts out the sides (it will often start by melting in little pools on the top, but you're waiting for the tell-tale sign of it melting at the bottom of the sides of the fillet, just like you see below).

Garnish with lemon & parsley. Serve hot, or warm, or cold—this fish can really do just about anything.

Serves 3, or multiply by six for a crowd.

And, if you are feeding a crowd, other suggestions include:
Quinoa Salad with Slow-Roasted Tomatoes
These Fish Packets
Grilled Asparagus with Balsamic Reduction
Roasted Bell Peppers
Israeli Couscous
Jasmine Rice

*Definitely splurge on wild salmon for this recipe—and in fact, if you can only find farmed, do something else with it. Slow-baking salmon changes the texture completely, in a wonderful way if it's wild, but in a mushy way if it's farmed. Note also that if you are scaling up, you can leave the fillet (or fillets) whole and let people cut their own, or cut before cooking into individual portions—it works either way. I left them whole, just because it was easier.