Raspberry Chocolate Chip Multigrain Pancakes

Yep, you heard me.

Ingredients

1 cup milk
1 tbsp white vinegar
2 tbsp butter
3/4 cups whole wheat flour
Scant 1/3 cup rolled oats
3 tbsp coarse cornmeal (polenta)
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 tsp honey (optional)
1/4 cup frozen raspberries, broken into smaller pieces
chocolate chips (or chopped dark chocolate) 

Combine the milk and vinegar and let sit for at 5-10 to approximate buttermilk. Melt the butter and set aside.

Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl. 

In a separate bowl, combine the lightly curdled milk, egg, vanilla, and honey. Stir in the butter. Then pour the whole mixture into the dry ingredients, stirring as you go until just combined. Add the raspberries and some chocolate chips.

Heat a skillet over medium heat until very hot. Add a pat of butter and coat the bottom. Drop pancake batter by the 1/4 cup. Flip when the edges are dry and cook till golden brown.

Serve with a little maple syrup drizzled over the top.

Serves 3.

Steak Salad with Lime-Cilantro Vinaigrette

Quite possibly the best summertime salad of all. After all—mostly plants still leaves room for the occasional giant hunk of steak.

Ingredients

3 tbsp olive oil

1.5 tbsp lime juice (about half a lime, hand squeezed)

Kosher salt

2 tbsp chopped cilantro

4 oz mixed baby spinach and baby arugula

2 endives, julienned

1/2 pint fragrant cherry tomatoes, halved

1 avocado, diced

Leftover steak, sliced

Whisk together the olive oil, lime juice, and a couple pinches of salt in a large bowl. Add half the cilantro, then add the greens and endives and toss to coat evenly. 

Toss the tomatoes with the rest of the cilantro. Serve a bed of greens onto each plate. Sprinkle with tomatoes and avocado, and top with the sliced steak. 

Serves 2.

Slow-baked Salmon with White Beans and Fennel

This is an easy, different, and delicious take on salmon that's easy to scale up for company or leftovers. Loosely adapted from this recipe here, crossed with this long-time favorite.

Ingredients
1 lb wild salmon
2 tbsp chopped green garlic (or sub 2 cloves garlic, pressed)
1 1/2 tbsp minced fennel top
Zest of ½ lemon
1 tsp mustard seeds
Olive oil
Kosher salt
1 large or two small fennel bulbs, diced
2 cans cannellini beans
1 tbsp good-quality mustard
Few sloshes white wine
1-2 tomatoes, diced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Combine in a small bowl: 1 tbsp of the green garlic (or one clove garlic, pressed), the fennel top, lemon zest, mustard seeds, 1.5 tbsp olive oil, 1 tbsp or so wine, and a couple pinches of salt. Lightly oil a foil-lined baking sheet and place the salmon on it, skin side down. Spread the garlic-fennel mixture evenly over the top in a thin layer. Let sit for 10 minutes while you preheat the oven to 275°F. Bake the salmon for 20-21 minutes or until you can see that the fat has started to melt out a bit from the bottom.

In a wide nonstick pan, heat a generous glug of olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the fennel and reduce heat to medium. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about six minutes, allowing the fennel to brown.

Add another glug of olive oil if the pan seems dry, turn the heat down a little, and add the rest of the garlic. Stir a couple times, then add the beans. After 1-2 minutes, add the mustard and a couple generous sloshes of wine and cook for another minute or so until some of the wine evaporates. Stir in the tomatoes and let cook until just heated through (unless they’re not really in season, in which case, cook them a couple minutes longer), then turn off the heat and add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve the beans onto plates and top with a piece of salmon.

Serves 3-4.

If you're reheating leftovers the next day, reheat the beans only, then lay the salmon over the top. The warmth of the beans will bring the salmon to room temperature without overcooking.

Apple Pancakes with Ginger and Lemon

Sometimes, the world needs more pancakes.

Here's my go-to recipe these days...the secret to amazing fluffiness seems to be butter + pumpkin puree (rather than oil) and beating the egg whites separately. Plus you can customize them to the season. Pumpkin and chocolate-chip, anyone?

Ingredients for Apple-Ginger Pancakes
2 eggs, divided
1 tbsp melted butter
2 tbsp canned pumpkin purée
1 cup Bob's Red Mill 10 grain pancake mix
1 apple, diced
1 carrot, grated
2 pinches Meyer lemon zest
1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger

Variations:
Summer Strawberry
2 eggs, divided
1.5 tbsp melted butter
1.5 tbsp smashed strawberry
1 cup Bob's Red Mill 10 grain pancake mix
1 cup diced strawberries
2 pinches Meyer lemon zest
1/4 tsp vanilla extract

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip
2 eggs, divided
4 tbsp canned pumpkin purée
1 tbsp melted butter
1 cup Bob's Red Mill 10 grain pancake mix
Dash or two of cinnamon
Pinch ground cloves
2 tbsp chocolate chips
1/4 tsp vanilla extract

Combine the egg yolks, pumpkin (or mashed strawberry), and melted butter in a large bowl. Add pancake mix, mashing with a fork to distribute the wet ingredients equally. Slowly add 3/4 cups water, mashing as necessary to get out the lumps. Stir in the rest of the ingredients that follow on the list.

In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites till stiff, then gently fold them into the pancake batter.

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot, add a little pat of butter and move it around with a spatula to lightly coat the bottom of the pan. Add batter by the 1/4 cup. After a minute or two, the edges of the pancakes will start to look dry; that's usually a good sign that they are golden brown on the bottom and ready to flip. Cook until both sides are golden, then remove from the heat and place in a folded-over piece of aluminum foil to stay warm (you can also stick them in the oven, if you're doubling the recipe and cooking will take awhile).

Serve warm, with maple syrup for drizzling.

Serves 2-3.

Easy Cucumber Gazpacho

There were cucumbers again in my CSA box this week. At first, my heart sank. Cucumbers again? There are only so many Greek salads one can eat in a summer, after all. And who knows what else to do with a billion cucumbers. Cucumber sandwiches for a small army? Vegetable carving? Gazpacho?

Gazpacho.

This recipe was made by breeding this one with this one. The result is rather gorgeous: The avocado provides a subtle creaminess that elevates the whole thing from normal to dreamy.

Make it. It's insanely easy and insanely delicious, and how often do those two things go hand in hand?

Ingredients
3-4 scallions, white and light green parts, cut into pieces
1 small clove garlic, pressed
2 cucumbers, peeled and cut into a few pieces
(if you have oddly sized CSA box cucumbers, just estimate roughly about how many you'd need to make up an average-sized, supermarket cucumber)
5-6 tbsp coarsely chopped fresh basil
1 red gypsy pepper or 1/2 red bell pepper, cut into a few pieces
1 1/2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Pinch cayenne if you'd like a bit of spice
Chives (optional) for garnish

Blend all the ingredients except the chives in a food processor until smooth. Adjust basil, salt, and pepper to taste (you want to be able to taste the basil without it being overpowering. If you can taste the basil but the soup still tastes a little bland, you can turn up the volume with a bit more salt).

Serve immediately or chill until you're ready for it. Just before serving, garnish with snipped chives and a drizzle of high quality olive oil.

Serves 2-4, depending on whether you're going for bowls or smaller cups.

Halibut with French Herbs

Tarragon, it turns out, is a game changer. Apparently you can chop it up with some parsley and chives and use it to make light-yet-buttery, simple-yet-flavorful, swooningly delicious french fare. Who knew? (Probably the French. But I didn't. You would think, in a fair world, that some people would get life-altering croissants and others would get tarragon, but no, the French got both. Until now. Or maybe it was years ago, when non-French people noticed tarragon but didn't tell me. Regardless, if you need me, I'll be over here, gazing adoringly at my new leafy green obsession.)

Ingredients

½ - ¾ lbs wild halibut (enough for two)

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Stone ground whole wheat flour

2 tbsp Meyer lemon juice

1 tsp olive oil

1 tbsp white wine

1 ½ tbsp butter

1 tbsp capers, rinsed and drained

1 tbsp coarsely chopped fresh tarragon

2 tbsp chopped chives

2 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley

(Goes well over black Forbidden rice—sauté a little chopped shallot until soft, then add the rice and water and cook according to package directions.)

Sprinkle the halibut on both sides with kosher salt and a little freshly ground black pepper, then lightly flour on both sides. Combine the lemon juice, olive oil, and white wine in a small dish.

Heat a nonstick or ceramic pan over medium heat. Drizzle lightly with olive oil, then add the fish to the pan and fry for a few minutes on each side, until just before the inside is cooked through (I always cut into the middle after it's lightly browned on both sides to get a sense of how much longer it has to cook...nobody will ever know if you serve it with the cut face down or with sauce over the top.) 

When the fish is almost but not quite cooked through, serve immediately over rice (it will keep cooking on the plate from the heat of the rice).

Immediately after serving the fish, replace the pan over medium-low heat. Add the butter, let it melt, then add the lemon-wine mixture. Wait 10 seconds for the alcohol to steam off, then add the capers and a pinch of salt, and turn off the heat. Add the herbs, stir a couple times, then spoon over the fish.

Serve immediately.

Serves 2. Pairs very well with sautéed leeks and baby kale and a French white.

Mostly Plants for Happy Hour

Given the existence of a liqueur made from 130 herbs, plants, and flowers, it was surely only a matter of time before this blog incorporated a happy hour. Introducing Trip the Light Plantastic, a summer cocktail made of (what else?) mostly plants, including juniper (gin), green chartreuse (there's the 130 herbs, plants, and flowers), mint, lime, and cucumber. Or stone fruit. Or whatever else strikes your produce-happy muddling fancy. In addition to its pun-based name, it also answers to "ooh, yes please," "one more over here," and "what was that drinky thing you made with the cucumber?"

Note: If you like your drinks on the sweeter side, go for the berry version below at peak berry season when they're super sweet and ripe, and aim for more berries rather than fewer. If you're not a fan of sweet drinks, head for any of the other versions.

Ingredients per drink:
1 shot gin
1/2 shot green chartreuse
5 mint leaves, muddled
1/2 shot lime juice or a bit less
1.5 - 2 shots club soda
and then choose your own adventure:

Cool Cucumber:
   2 sliced cucumber, muddled
   or
Summer Stone Fruit:
   1/2 an apricot or 1/4 nectarine, muddled
   1 peel of Meyer lemon zest (use a carrot peeler)
   or
Berry Blend:
   2-4 strawberries and/or blackberries, muddled
   1 peel of Meyer lemon or orange zest (use a carrot peeler)

In a cocktail shaker, muddle the mint and the cucumber or fruit together, then add the lime juice, gin, and chartreuse. Clink in 2-3 ice cubes and shake vigorously until icy.

Serve into cold glasses on the rocks (an oversized ice cube or scotch rock works particularly well, so that the drink doesn't get diluted as the ice melts). Add club soda to desired level of dilution...I like my drinks strong, so I tend to add 1 1/2 shots of club soda to each glass here, but feel free to up the club soda to taste.

Add garnish as desired—cucumber slices if you're doing the cucumber version, citrus zest if you are doing a fruit version—and serve immediately.

Chimichurri Sauce

Sometimes dinner should be simple. And recyclable throughout the week. And delicious. It is in these sorts of cases that one wishes for a magical sauce that could somehow manifest itself out of a handful of ingredients tossed in a blender, and complement just about anything.

Oh look, here's one now.

Serve this over grilled skirt steak, peppers, and summer squash. Or toss it with a farro and arugula salad with some summer cherry tomatoes. Or drizzle it over fancy tacos. Or scramble it into your eggs. The possibilities are pretty much endless.

Ingredients 

2 small to medium cloves garlic
2 tbsp chopped shallot
1 cup coarsely chopped flat leaf parsley or a bit more

1/3-1/2 cup chopped fresh basil

2 tbsp lemon juice

Freshly ground black pepper

1 tsp kosher salt
3/4 cups olive oil

1/3 cup sherry vinegar

Combine the garlic, shallot, parsley, and basil in a food processor; blend until finely chopped. Add the other ingredients and blend well.

Taste to make sure you can identify parsley, basil, and black pepper (if not, add a bit more of that ingredient and try again). If the sauce tastes bland right at the beginning, add a little more shallot and/or garlic. If you can taste everything but it feels like the taste is too muted, you can turn the volume up by adding another pinch or two of salt. (But don't worry too much—it's going to taste good no matter what you do at this point.)

Store in the fridge for up to a week. Makes about 1.25 cups (if you're making the recipe below, you'll probably want about an eighth of a cup per person).

For skirt steak and grilled veggies:

Sprinkle a skirt steak generously with kosher salt and black pepper. Slice zucchinis lengthwise into quarter-inch strips (err on the thicker rather than thinner side); cut bell peppers lengthwise into halves or thirds and scrape out the seeds. Brush the veggies with olive oil.

Grill veggies on a grill in the 350-450° range until nicely browned and tender. Grill skirt steak 6-9 minutes total or until just before desired doneness (it will cook a little more on the plate but not much, since it's so thin). Drizzle everything in chimichurri for maximum deliciousness. Pairs wonderfully with a Malbec or a Mourvedre. And if you're feeling fancy, you can add this salad.

Orzo with Roasted Peppers, Butter Beans, and Kale

A year or two ago, I watched a friend of mine toss some peppers in the oven to roast, so that she could use them throughout the week. Now, this friend is an excellent cook, a superbly efficient juggler of work and life and food and laughter, and generally full of top notch advice. In other words, one might think I would have taken notes. I should have gone straight home, acquired a large number of bell peppers, and commenced a happy and full life of weekly pepper roasting.

I did not.

What's wrong with me? Nobody knows. But belatedly, I have remedied my ways. I have become a Weekly Pepper Roaster. Or at least, an occasional weekly pepper roaster. Try it. Today. Or in a year. You'll see.

 
Make one for this dish, one for a fancy sandwich, one for a dreamy quesedilla, and one to pay yourself in snack taxes as you cook throughout the week.

Ingredients

Olive oil

1 large bell pepper

1/2 head cauliflower, chopped

1 bunch dino or green kale, diced

3 large cloves garlic, pressed

1 1/4 cups veggie or chicken broth

1 rounded cup whole wheat orzo

1 can butter beans, rinsed and drained

Slosh white wine or broth

Zest of about 3/4 of a Meyer lemon

1/2 cup Parmesan, grated with a microplane

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

To roast the peppers:
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Take a roasting pan, brush just under where the peppers will go with olive oil, then lay the peppers on their side. Roast for 15 minutes, turn 1/4 turn, then roast another 10 minutes on each side (about 45 min total) until the peppers start to slightly deflate. Remove from the oven and set on a plate to cool. Pull out the core, cut them in half, peel, and de-seed. (Can be kept in the fridge in an air-tight container for at least a week...pour the leftover juices over them before refrigerating.)

Meanwhile:
While the peppers are roasting or just after they emerge, toss the chopped cauliflower in a drizzle of olive oil to coat, scatter on another baking pan, and cook in the oven until golden brown, stirring every 4 minutes or so (12-15 minutes total).

For the pepper you're using right now: Slice into strips lengthwise, then cut the strips in half crosswise.

Meanwhile, set a wide sautée pan over medium heat. When hot, add a generous glug of olive oil. Add the kale and toss to coat with the oil, then cover the pan and let cook for 4-5 minutes or so. Sprinkle with salt, stir, and then let cook for another 4-5 minutes. (It's fine if it browns, and it's fine if it doesn't. Don't stress. It will take care of itself.)

Bring the broth to a boil in a small pot for the orzo. When it reaches a boil, add the orzo, turn the heat down to low, and simmer 9 minutes or according to package directions.

Add the garlic and a little olive oil to the kale and sauté, stirring, for a couple minutes until the garlic softens. Add the butter beans and toss lightly. Stir in a glug of wine (or a slosh of broth, if you don't have white wine on hand). Cover for a couple minutes to let simmer. Uncover, stir in the lemon zest and the peppers, and replace the cover. Turn off the heat.

When the orzo is al dente, drain off any excess broth, then toss gently with the kale mixture. Stir in half the parmesan and a liberal dusting of black pepper. Serve warm, topped with the rest of the parmesan and the roasted cauliflower.

Serves 2.

Farro Salad with Tomatoes and Feta

Quick. Before the last of the summertime sunshine and summertime tomatoes fade into foggy memory under the cool crisp footsteps of fall. Get thee to a picnic.

Ingredients

1 ½ cups semi-pearled farro

2 cups chicken broth + 1 cup water

2 medium shallots, diced

1 large clove garlic, pressed

1 medium to large zucchini or other summer squash, diced

3/4 can chickpeas, rinsed

1 heaping basket fragrant cherry tomatoes, halved and sprinkled lightly with salt

Olive oil

1 lemon, zested and then juiced

6-8 oz feta, cubed

2-3 tbsp chopped fresh oregano

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Bring the broth and water to a boil in a covered pot. Stir in the farro, replace the cover, and return to a boil. Turn the heat down to low and simmer according to package directions (probably about 20 minutes, or longer if unpearled) until tender. Drain well, toss with a drizzle of olive oil, and set aside.

While the farro is cooking, heat a wide nonstick pan over medium-low heat. Add a generous glug of olive oil and the shallot and sauté for a minute, then add the garlic and sauté a minute more. Add the zucchini and a sprinkling of salt and toss to coat evenly. Cover the pan and cook for about 10 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally. When the zucchini is cooked through, stir in the chickpeas, cover the pan again, and turn off the heat.

Prepare the rest of the ingredients. When everything is ready to go, drizzle the farro with a little more olive oil and toss with the arugula so that it wilts a little. Add half the oregano, half the lemon juice, and all of the lemon zest, then stir in the zucchini mixture, tomatoes, and feta. Adjust oregano, lemon juice, and salt to taste (you’ll probably want half the remaining oregano and half the remaining lemon juice, but play with the amount until the zip of each one adds a clear bright note to the taste without being overpowering). Sprinkle with black pepper and chill until you’re ready to eat.

Serves 4-8 as a main course or side salad. Works well for potlucks, picnics, road trips, or just a stash of something delicious and ready to eat for a busy work week.

Curried Potato Salad with Cilantro and Ginger

A few weeks ago, while lunching outdoors in Berkeley on a shady patio, basking in the summery summertime, I was offered a bite of potato salad.

"Potato salad?" said the bite-offerer, descriptively.

"Um," I replied.

I paused. I'm not such a fan of potato salad, after all. I believe in the overcooking of all potatoes always forever, and potato salad potatoes are so frequently al dente. And then there's the mayonnaise thing. And the cold thing. And the lack of any hint of flavor drama.

And yet.

Maybe this was THE potato salad. Maybe this would be the moment at which the summertime picnics of my life would change course magically and irrevocably in a blissful epiphany of potato salad perfection. Maybe the secret ingredient was hidden inside this very forkful.

I forked.

I chewed.

I marveled at how very much this potato salad tasted exactly like every other potato salad I had ever tried in the history of summertime picnics.

Enough was enough. I was tired of being a passive potato salad bystander, sitting wistfully on the sidelines of summertime picnic history. It was time to act. It was time to make this.

It is in many ways, as you will see, the anti-potato salad potato salad. No mayonnaise. No white potatoes. Bursting with flavor. And best of all, delightfully overcooked.


Ingredients
1.25 lbs yellow or purple potatoes
Rounded 1/2 tsp black or yellow mustard seeds, lightly toasted in a pan until fragrant (about 30 seconds)
4 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp red wine vinegar
1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger
Scant 1 tsp good quality curry powder
1/4 tsp kosher salt
Handful cilantro, chopped (about 2 1/2 tbsp)
Small handful baby arugula, chopped
2-3 scallions, sliced

Bring a pot of water to boil for the potatoes, then boil 15-25 minutes until the skins split and the potatoes are very tender (i.e., delightfully overcooked). Drain, rinse with cold water or an ice bath to cool, and peel (the skins should pull off easily).

Whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, curry powder, ginger, and salt. Put the peeled potatoes in a bowl and break apart into bite-sized pieces with a fork, then drizzle with the curry mixture and toss to coat evenly. Sprinkle in the mustard seeds, cilantro, arugula, and scallions, tossing gently to mix evenly. Adjust seasonings to taste (the spice of the curry, tang of the vinegar, and cilantro-y-ness of the cilantro should balance each other out -- if one seems to be missing from the flavor, add a bit more. If the flavor just seems muted overall and you want to make it louder, sprinkle in a bit more salt).

Cover the bowl and leave in the fridge to chill while the flavors blend until you're ready to eat.

Serves 3-4.

Mostly Plants for Breakfast: Farro with Fruit and Greek Yogurt

You may have noticed that I have a thing about conquering new foods.

First it was kale, I think. Then fish. Cauliflower went from dubiously tolerated to deeply beloved, and brussels sprouts followed suit. At some point, I confessed to a sudden, irreversible, life-altering change in my relationship with tomatoes.

It became a thing. Find a food I think I don't like, and then find a way to prepare it that makes me change my mind. It was true of anything, I declared loudly. There IS no food I don't like, and if I think there is, I just haven't come across the right version yet.

Except yogurt.

 

 

Yogurt, it seemed, was the last holdout. The final frontier. The unbeatable edible. The...you get the idea.

People thought they could solve this one easily for me. Just try Greek yogurt, they said. Make sure it's the such and such brand. Try French style. Try it with strawberries. Try the parsnip yogurt, because seriously, parsnips! (Verdict, on all: Ew.)

Until quite recently, when my mom intervened.* And this is what she suggested.

And the yogurt?

Delightful. Necessary. A perfect complement in both flavor and texture. And most importantly? Vanquished.


Ingredients
1 cup farro, cooked according to package directions
10 oz or so plain Greek yogurt (my favorites, texture-wise, are Fage and Voskos)
Local honey**
1 lemon (preferably Meyer), zested
1/2 - 1 tsp grated ginger
Plentiful fruit (sliced strawberries, blueberries, diced kiwi, sliced kumquats, you name it)

Mix the yogurt with the lemon zest, ginger, and a spoonful or two of honey. Serve in layers: a scoop or two of farro, a scoop of yogurt, a heap of fruit. Eat blissfully. Repeat as needed.


Serves about 4, and saves easily in the fridge, separately, for breakfasts throughout the week (just reheat the farro and serve).

*You may remember my mom as the well-intentioned radish foister.
**Turns out honey is one of the most adulterated food products in the U.S. (along with olive oil), so it's worth splurging a little on a source you trust.

Maui, Day 7: Samphire Salad with Papaya and Sesame

Sea asparagus. Because that is totally a thing. Look it up.

Ingredients
2 handfuls (about 3 oz) sea asparagus (a.k.a. samphire), chopped into 1 inch pieces
1 tsp black sesame seeds
1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 ripe avocado, diced
1/4 ripe papaya, diced
Diced pineapple (about the same amount as the papaya)

Rinse the sea asparagus and then let soak in cold water for 1-2 hours to remove some of the saltiness. Drain, rinse, and dry in a salad spinner.

Meanwhile, toast the sesame seeds over medium heat until fragrant, then add the olive oil and swirl. Remove from the heat. (You could use sesame oil instead here for simplicity—we just didn't have any, and I like the look of the black sesame seeds anyway).

Toss the sea asparagus in the sesame seeds and enough of the oil to coat lightly. Add the avocado and fruit, toss well but gently, and then stick in the refrigerator for 20 minutes to chill before serving. (The acidity of the pineapple should keep the avocado from browning. If you're impatient, stick in the  freezer along with your bowls or plates for 5 minutes and then serve.)

Serves 2-4.

Hiking along the coast near Pa'iloa Beach

Star Fruit (the sort of thing you wonder how you've gone your whole life without)

Abiu (like a cross between a pear and a marshmallow. Kind of weird, but interesting.)

(...but mostly weird.)

Quinoa and braised kale with curry leaf, coconut, and lemongrass

Arugula Salad with Sardines and Preserved Lemon

You know the saying. When life—in, say, the form of two lovely dinnertime hosts who have just plied you with roasted pastured chicken and grilled eggplant and zucchini from their garden and just-plucked tomatoes and homemade pâté and a veritable panoply of stunning wines and a wide night sky pinned up with constellations, into which a shooting star slips, sudden and silent, as if from another world—when that life, goes the saying, hands you a jar of preserved lemons, you go home and you make lots of things that involve preserved lemon the next day.

 

Okay, maybe that's not the saying. It lacks a certain ring. But it's true. The corollary is, when life in any form does not hand you preserved lemons, you make your own. (Shortcut here). And then, in either case, you make lunch.

Lunch, since you asked, should be this.

Ingredients
4-5 oz baby arugula
Good quality olive oil
About 1 tbsp preserved lemon, chopped
Fleur de sel (or sub kosher salt)
1 medium carrot, coarsely grated
1/2 cup canned navy beans, rinsed and drained
Liberal scattering sprouted sunflower seeds*
2 tins sardines, drained**
Freshly ground black pepper

Drizzle arugula with olive oil, sprinkle with the preserved lemon, and toss well. (Use enough oil to lightly coat the leaves. I just do this directly on the plates, using my hands, or you could do it in a bowl and then arrange beds on the plates).

Sprinkle lightly with salt, then scatter liberally with carrot, navy beans, and sunflower seeds. Top with sardines and freshly ground black pepper.


Serves 2 for a light summertime meal, and pairs well with a cold glass of Torrontés.



*Available at Costco.

**Current favorites: Wild Planet Pacific sardines in extra virgin olive oil with lemon.

One-Pot Pasta with Fresh Basil

If you're anything like me, there's nothing less motivating than the prospect of cooking lunch for one.

Here's what happens. Somewhere around midday, if I'm working from home, I think of something I'd like to eat. And then I think about the number of pots involved, and the fact that I will be the only one eating...and perhaps most significantly, the only one cleaning up afterward...and that dinner comes after lunch, which will mean even more cleaning. Then, in response to this disheartening realization, one part of my mind earnestly tries to convince the other part that a spoonful of peanut butter is really a very well-balanced meal, if you think about it, because it contains protein and um and uh protein and well anyway there would only be a single utensil to wash afterward. (Inevitably, five minutes after I implement this idea, I'm both hungry and glaring at the stupid spoon sitting expectantly in the sink.)

So the other day, I am in exactly this situation—post-peanut butter, pre-spoon-cleaning—and thinking guiltily of the rampant African blue basil on the balcony that has grown to the size of a small elephant in the moist summer heat. A gangly, adolescent elephant. It was gazing reprovingly at me through the balcony door window.

I thought about how I should prune it, and how I was hungry, and how I needed to stop anthropomorphizing plants. (This last part I may have said aloud to our houseplants, Ellie and Beatrix, who nodded knowingly in the circulating air from the ceiling fan.)

And then, less than twenty minutes later, I was sitting down to this. The ingredients can be prepared while the pasta water is coming to a boil. The water boils quickly, because you can use a small pot. And most magically of all, everything happens in that one small pot—leaving you just one thing to clean up afterward.*

Plus it's like mac and cheese comfort meets homemade pesto gourmet deliciousness.

Ingredients (per person):

1 small to medium clove garlic, unpeeled

A bit more than 1 cup whole wheat fusilli pasta**

A big bunch of fresh basil (say, 2 generous handfuls...you'll want about 1/2 cup chopped)

1-2 oz grated extra sharp cheddar (or sub Parmesan, Asiago, or any full-flavored cheese)

Olive oil

Any other pasta-y ingredients that happen to be languishing in your fridge (optional)***

A scattering of pine nuts (optional)

Salt & freshly ground black pepper 

Bring a pot of water to a boil for the pasta (a 2 quart pot is fine for a single serving). Toss in a 1/2 tsp salt.

While you're waiting for it to boil, wash, dry, and chop up the basil (you want enough for about 1/2 cup chopped), grate the cheese, and assemble any other ingredients.

When the water boils, add the garlic clove and the pasta. Boil for 7 1/2 minutes or follow package directions, until al dente. 1 minute before the pasta is done, fish out the garlic clove, rinse briefly under cold water, peel, and smash or chop.

Drain the pasta (directly from the pot if you can, using the lid, to save yourself the bother of cleaning something else), and replace the pot full of pasta back on the stove. Drizzle with olive oil, stir in the garlic and basil and any other pasta-y ingredients you've decided to add, and let sit one minute to warm through. Add the cheese and pine nuts and stir gently until the cheese melts. Sprinkle with black pepper, and serve.


*And the fork, technically. And a plate, if you're being all formal.

**If you're looking for the best store-bought whole wheat pasta by far, ever, look no further than
Eden Organic Kamut spirals.

***e.g., a spoonful or two of roasted red pepper tapenade, a chopped artichoke heart, a little diced tomato, and/or a scattering of chopped parsley.