morsels & sauces

My father-in-law and I disagree about chili.  We also disagree about most of the books we read in Bookclub, but that's another issue, especially when one has the pressing issue of chili to discuss.  You see, he's wrong. And I am right.  Beans belong in chili. And that's where he chimes in: He argues that chili should not have beans in it. He ascribes to Texas chili making, where beans are eschewed for more meat. And then some more meat on top of that. I guess, the happy part about a Bowl of Red is that if you're paleo, this is one meat-friendly pot of soup. Adapted from  The New American Heart Association Cookbook ,  this bowl of red is incredibly simple, especially since I didn't stew this on the stovetop for an hour, which you are welcome to do. Instead, I put this is in the slow cooker after browning the meat. Then I went to work. And when I came home I had a fantastic bowl of chile-meat soup, which is what we non-Texans might call this dish....

I love a good picnic. However, the husband and I have very different ideas of what a picnic should be. I fancy a game of croquet and a gaffe over the strawberries a la Emma Woodhouse. The husband is satisfied with a length of salami and a hunk of cheese. So this was my compromise. We hiked on a Saturday afternoon the northern-most tip of Point Reyes National Seashore .  A simple (but longish) drive to Pierce Point Ranch (a dairy ranch from about 1858 to the 1970s) and a few-mile hike afford gorgeous views of the Pacific Ocean and Tomales Bay (assuming the fog hasn't rolled in). If you're lucky, and we were, the elk will be on full display, and there are plenty of rock outcroppings and a one Monterey cyprus tree patch, all just aching for a picnic blanket (and no croquet).  Yes, I brought some salami, and we stopped in Point Reyes Station at the Cowgirl Creamery for some Red Hawk . However, I also made this Raspberry and Brown Sugar Loaf--an adaptation of D...

So, I was sitting at Kirala , one of my favorite sushi places, eating lunch, which happens to be across the street from the Berkeley Bowl , and I thought, "Hmm, I should make dinner tonight."* Such is my life. While eating one meal, I am often contemplating the next one. This was the result.  *Full disclaimer, that day was not today, as I am laid up in bed because I broke my tailbone (I fell). But I was recently  sitting in my favorite sushi place having these thoughts. Because I am in an admitting mood, I am going to reveal a few things here: 1.) This is a lazy, lazy dinner. The amount of work here is almost miniscule, and it makes me wonder why I have evenings where I cannot bring myself to cook (enter popcorn and pickles. Again, don't judge. I like salt.) 2.) What sets this apart from other lazy dinners I normally make is the the chile and pumpkin seed combo tossed in with the sweet potatoes. Yep. This launches this little puff pastry concoction i...

Um. I was not expecting this. Not at all. Creamed greens (in the U.S. generally creamed spinach) are those old standbys that no one really admits to making all that much anymore. And it's a shame, for creamed greens are not only good but the can be good for you (if you watch just how much cream you put in them).  From Food and Wine's Creamed Kale  to The Food Network's Creamed Broccoli , lots of people are jumping on the creamed vegetable bandwagon again these days, and I am no exception. However, most of these are very heavy on the cream. Not with this recipe from  Amanda Hesser and Merrill Stubbs, the founders of  Food52 .   Instead, this is a bitter mouthful rounded out with only a susuration of cream. As it should be. As you probably already know given my last couple of posts , I have taken up Hesser and Stubbs challenge to spend my Sunday cooking and then sitting back for the rest of the week....

Black bean soup doesn't get the accolades it deserves. This unassuming little soup does what it needs to do--warm the bones on a fall afternoon--and then you go about your business. Little fanfare. Lots of flavor. Black bean soup can take as long as you would like: with dried black beans, this is a two-day affair. However, with canned black beans, you can have a quick cook. Further, black bean soup is naturally vegan (although, I wouldn't blame you if you threw some bacon in with the sofrito; truly I wouldn't!). Finally, you can spice it up any way you like it (did someone say fire-roasted tomatoes, ancho chile powder). Yet, for this particular recipe, I went with simple, traditional, and Cuban. No chiles beyond the requisite jalapeno. No fire-roasted tomatoes. Just beans, sofrito, stock, oregano, and lime crema. Recently, I received  ¡Cuba!: Recipes and Stories from the Cuban Kitchen   in the mail, and what a gorgeous little cookbook...

(I do need to iron this tablecloth, but let's pretend not to notice, okay?) Given my recent pea soup with cilantro recipe from Diana Henry , you may notice a recent and certain penchant for the soup of this spring climbing plant. You may also be asking how much pea soup can a woman eat. Turns out that the answer is a lot . You see, I know that I have a thing for pea soup. Not only have I posted the aforementioned Diana Henry recipe, but I have an old favorite split pea and ham soup from Best Soups in the World . However, I was not always a pea soup fan--indeed, no. Growing up, I knew that pea soup was my mother's favorite soup (and my brother's was New England clam chowder--I am not sure I had a favorite soup). However, for my mother, it didn't matter--homemade, canned, restaurant-ordered, split with a ham hock, fresh with cream--pea soup in all its forms was her favorite. I, on the other hand, found it heavy, almost dusty tasting. Yet, as we age, so ...