redacted recipes

Heirloom Tomato, Basil and Brie Bread Pudding

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, tomatoes have been the stars of the September CSA shares. In addition to the wonderful salsa I made with them, I was inspired by this fabulous-looking bread pudding recipe over at Pioneer Woman Cooks. I decided to take some liberties with the concept and to try to reproduce the flavors in a favorite pasta dish-- the very first recipe I ever made for Jack, in fact. I wondered if the marvelous mix of ripe tomatoes, basil, garlic and brie (marinated in good olive oil for the pasta dish) would translate well to a bread pudding bound together with eggs, yogurt and milk.

Result? A comforting dish, but not a very true translation of the flavors of the pasta recipe. Because the tomatoes, basil and garlic were baked (rather than gently warmed by hot pasta), the intensity of the flavors was muted. It was great comfort food and very tasty in it's own right, though, and I can live with that.

Why is there no photo of the finished product? Sadly, I just didn't get one good enough to show you.

Heirloom Tomato, Basil and Brie Bread Pudding
serves 6

8 slices stale French bread, cut into quarters
2 - 3 heirloom tomatoes, halved and thickly sliced
1 cup of fresh basil leaves, cut into strips
1/2 pound of brie, rind removed, torn into small pieces
3 garlic cloves, minced
8 eggs
1 cup milk
1 cup yogurt, plain
Salt & Pepper

Combine the tomatoes, basil and garlic in a bowl and let it sit at room temperature for at least an hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 F and lightly oil a baking dish.

Toss the bread with the tomato, basil and garlic mixture and pour it into the baking dish. Scatter the pieces of brie over the top, and then gently fold it all together.

Whisk the eggs, yogurt, milk and salt and pepper together and pour it over the bread. Bake for 40 - 50 minutes until set.

CSA Slow Cooker Curry

A strange thing happened when I moved to New York: I stopped cooking (Indian) curry. Then, after a few visits to some of the city's less-than-terrific Indian restaurants I stopped eating it altogether. For a Brit, this is almost a form of treason. It's a bit like giving up tea, or beer, or deciding not to complain about the weather any more. On my return visits to London I would sometimes order a delivery from my favourite local Indian restaurant but then even that pretty much stopped. Somehow I'd just lost the habit, and considering that habit used to be of the two-or-three-times-a-week variety the loss was, as I say, strange.

Well, a few weeks ago I decided enough was enough. No more excuses about not being able to find the right ingredients, no more banging on about how I missed the fabulous Indian markets in my London neighbourhood; I needed a curry, dammit! So I set about assembling a reasonable approximation of my old garam masala recipe, searched my increasingly unreliable memory for recollections of how I used to make a basic curry (I haven't followed a written recipe for years), and got down to it. After a couple of passable near-misses I finally nailed it again.

This particular curry was a sort-of chicken madras, I suppose, but I loaded it up with a wild variety of goodies from our weekly CSA run. Normally I'd only include onion, green pepper, fresh chilli and tomatoes along with the meat but given the varied veggie stockpile in our fridge Ann and I have a pact to use them whenever and wherever we can. I was a little concerned that it might end up being a confusion of tastes and textures but happily, it worked. The point is you don't need to include all the vegetables listed below - you can take the simple base ingredients mentioned above and add whatever you fancy. Or not. That's the great thing about curries - you can be very experimental with them and have fun varying the ingredients to suit whatever's available in your kitchen and fridge.

Because of the recent sweltering weather I used a slow cooker but you can do it all in a large pan or skillet too. I served the curry with spicy basmati rice and Ann's excellent raita (mainly consisting of yogurt and chopped cucumber) which helps cool the fire!

photo by Holger Casselmann

Garam Masala

This will make quite a lot. You only use about a teaspoonful in the curry so you may want to scale down the proportions, but if you plan on getting into the curry habit it's worth making a reasonable quantity so you don't have to do it every time. If you have trouble finding the black cardamoms you can just leave them out and add a bit more of the regular ones. Like curry itself, garam masala is a very flexible thing and there's no hard and fast recipe. You should compare this suggestion with other Googlings and experiment until you find a blend that works best for you.

4 tbsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp cumin seeds
1 tbsp black peppercorns
1.5  tsp dry ginger
1 tsp cardamom seeds
2 black cardamom pods (should yield about 3/4 tsp when ground)
3/4 tsp cloves
3/4 tsp cinnamon (about a 2" piece of bark)
3/4 tsp crushed bay leaves

Gently roast all ingredients except the ginger in a heavy skillet  until they darken slightly. Stir/shake occasionally. Take it slow and be sure not to burn anything. Remove from the heat and allow to cool.
Once cooled, remove the cardamom seeds from their pods (a fingernail is usually handy enough to split them open) and return them to the other ingredients.

Grind everything to a fine powder. The easy way is to press an old coffee grinder into service solely for the purpose of grinding spices. The old-fashioned but tougher way is to use a pestle and mortar.

Store in an airtight container in a cool, dark place.

Chicken and Vegetable Curry
Serves 2

Note that the spice quantities suggested here will make a medium hot curry. Increasing or decreasing the amount of chilli powder or fresh chilli will make the most difference to the heat so you should adjust to your own tolerance. You might leave the fresh chilli out altogether, for example. Similarly, the quantities of cumin, turmeric and coriander are only a rough guide. Part of the fun of making curry is customising your spice levels!

The basic ingredients (ie all you really need)

1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 fresh chilli pepper, chopped. (I favour hot reds or serranos but you can use whatever type you fancy)
1 green bell pepper, sliced (optional)
1 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp cumin
3/4 tsp turmeric
3/4 tsp dry coriander
1/2 tsp hot paprika (optional)
12 oz chicken breast, chopped into 1.5 inch cubes
15 oz can peeled tomatoes
1 tsp garam masala (see above)

The optional extras (ie the random CSA stuff!)

2 small potatoes, cut into 1/4" slices
1 zucchini or summer squash, cut into 1/4" slices
a small handful of sliced mushrooms
a small handful of green beans, cut into 1.5 inch pieces
a large handful of arugula

(Don't you just love the precision, here?)

Put little olive oil in a skillet and fry the onions, fresh chilli and bell pepper over medium heat until the onion is translucent and the pepper slightly softened. Add the garlic and powdered spices and fry for a further minute, stirring constantly to prevent burning. Get everything nicely coated. Add the chicken and stir for another minute or so, until the surface is just starting to cook. Transfer everything to the slow cooker and add the tomatoes and a little salt. Stir and set on high. As soon as it starts to simmer, turn the cooker to low.

You should leave it for at least three hours so you need to judge when you want to add any other vegetables depending on what they are and how long they need to cook. Using the examples here I added the various extras at approximately the following times before serving

Potatoes - 2 hours
Squash - 1.5 hours
Mushrooms - 1 hour
Green beans - 1 hour
Arugula - 15 minutes

Again, this is approximate and will depend on how firm you want the vegetables to be. The times given above strike a nice balance between too soft and too firm, I think, and they're sufficient to allow the flavour of the curry to permeate a little without entirely swamping the natural taste of the ingredients. And you don't really want crisp green beans in a curry. Or at least, I don't. But please yourselves!

The final touch is to add the garam masala, which you should stir in and mix well about an hour before you're ready to eat. Your kitchen will now start to smell seriously wonderful and you will have a hard time waiting that final hour to get stuck in to the spicy, aromatic goodness.

Curry really can benefit more than many dishes from a trial-and-error approach because everyone seems to like it slightly differently and part of the fun is in figuring out what works best for your preferences. Be loose! Be fearless! But don't forget to start getting the rice together about twenty minutes before you're ready to eat!

Spicy Basmati Rice
Serves 2

1 medium onion, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 red or serrano chilli pepper, chopped (and de-seeded if you're scared of a bit of heat)
Half a cup of basmati rice
6 fl oz white wine
6 fl oz veg or chicken stock
Salt and black pepper

Heat a little olive oil in a saucepan. Add the onions, garlic and chilli. Cook for a few minutes until the onions are soft. Stir in the rice and cook for another minute. Pour in the wine and reduce the liquid by half. Add the stock and seasoning; cover saucepan and cook until rice has absorbed the liquid. About 8-10 minutes.

Tomato Celebration

Thank heavens tomatoes are back! I really can't get enough tomatoes when they come into season and I wait impatiently for them all year long, particularly heirlooms. We eat them every way we can think of (you'll be seeing a lot of them for the next few months!), and one of our favorite dishes, and the first thing I ever cooked for Jack, is a pasta recipe, taken from that old '80s go-to The Silver Palate Cookbook. As with most of the recipes in the book, this is not low calorie, light, or particularly healthy. But, oh, it's so damned good... we call it seduction food. I recently advised my daughter to make it for her boyfriend, swearing to her that he "will look at you like you're a goddess once he tastes it!"

However, goddesses don't need to be heavy, so I've lightened it up a lot by reducing the amount of olive oil and cheese (the original called for heart-stopping amounts of both!).

This is an old post with new (better) photos. It was originally posted 2 years ago and has gone unnoticed all this time (nobody ever visited back then), so I decided to dust it off and freshen it up. The recipe deserves it.

Linguine with Tomatoes and Basil
adapted from The Silver Palate Cookbook
serves 4

4 large ripe tomatoes (I prefer a mix of red and yellow heirloom, or Jersey), cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1/2 pound of brie, rind removed, torn into small pieces
1 cup of fresh basil leaves, cut into strips
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 tsp salt
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 pound linguine

Combine the tomatoes, basil, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper in a large bowl. Cover and let sit at room temperature at least two hours. Add the brie about an hour before you want to eat.

Cook and drain the linguine and toss with the rest of the ingredients. Serve immediately.

Be sure to have some good crusty bread for soaking up all the lovely garlic-y juices!

Tried, Tested and True

I've asked my cousin Kate, the remarkable daughter of a remarkable woman, to write her story for Tried, Tested and True, an event being hosted by the mother-daughter team of giz and psychgrad over at Equal Opportunity Kitchen to raise awareness for organ donation.

When I asked Kate to write this I also asked her for a healthy recipe. She responded with a rather pithy response too fabulous not to quote here for a terrific dish which Jack cooked last night:

"I hate that healthy low-fat shit.  I love food very much, and I'm sure I would love to eat someone else's healthy low-fat recipe if they served it to me, but I don't think or cook that way because good food is generally healthy and if you want low fat, don't eat cake all the time.  So, I want to offer up my friend Nicola's recipe as served to me in Asmara, Eritrean (former Italian colony).  It's just good old bon filet (do we call it filet here?  The long skinny tenderest cut of beef?) cut thickly and fried lightly in a few good glugs of olive oil with lots of salt and pepper til just past rare.  Throw those lovely rounds on a platter and top with an armload of rucola, and then drip the nice hot salty and peppery and beefy olive oil over the top.  It looks and tastes great.  It's all healthy stuff, right?"

Right, indeed. We just loved this simple and yet oh-so-good dish. It proves once again that if you start with great ingredients you can't go wrong.

Please welcome Kate and her story.

---

I had a kidney transplant in July 2005 at the age of 42.  Aside from what could be detected through blood tests, my symptoms of kidney failure as a result of Polycystic Kidney Disease were virtually non-existent the summer day in 2004 my nephrologist told me, “You could be eligible for a kidney transplant tomorrow.”

Since I live overseas I wasn’t able to get on a donor list in my state of Colorado: you need to be able to get to the hospital within 12 hours after a kidney becomes available and travel time to the states takes us more than 30 hours.  I would need to find a living donor—someone willing to donate me a kidney, and willing to do it during my scheduled trip to the States! 

I looked ahead to Christmas or even the following summer to do the transplant.  If my health held (and it did, sort of) that would give me time to find a donor who would be willing to come to Colorado and donate a kidney.  I love telling the story of the people who came forward to offer me a kidney: five relatives, several friends, and even a few people I hardly knew. 

My Mom suggested right away that she could be my donor; my nephrologist dismissed the idea just as quickly, saying we wanted to look for someone younger.

My sister-in-law Tammy leapt forward immediately with certainty and even joy at the prospect of donating a kidney.  I still marvel at the no-nonsense way she would not brook our concern or dismay on her behalf.  Her doctors gave her the go-ahead, and my doctors told her to wait until closer to the actual transplant date to proceed with testing.  With those provisions we proceeded through the year with a kind of peace of mind, and that was Tammy’s gift to us.

Ten months later we learned that I had a pretty high level of antibodies—protein substances the body's immune system develops in response to antigens, or foreign substances.  Antibodies will attack a transplanted organ, so the most important test for potential donors and recipients is an antibody screen, a simple test that mixes the white blood cells of the donor with serum from the recipient.  If the antibodies in the recipient react with the antigens of the donor, the deal is off.   

Suddenly, Tammy was no longer a potential donor.  While my husband Craig and I turned our attention to trying to find a match in the increasingly short window of time ahead, Tammy grieved.  She experienced a real sense of loss over not being able to donate her kidney, God love her, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank her adequately for the whole-hearted commitment she gave to the prospect. 

In the meantime, Craig’s older brother who stands over six and a half feet tall and weighs around 260 pounds offered me one of his kidneys.  His concern: “they’ll probably have to stuff it inside you like a rubber raft.” 

Craig’s younger brother also offered a kidney, but based on the results from the antibody screen with Tammy, the transplant team felt that Craig’s blood relatives were out of the picture as the high level of antibodies in my blood had likely developed during pregnancy against antigens from Craig. 

As news of our having to cast a wider net for potential donors spread, Mom gently reminded me that she was ready to give me a kidney.  Aside from the fact that my nephrologist had dismissed Mom as “too old” (though at 65 she could ride her mountain bike downhill faster than anybody we knew and ski more aggressively than most people half her age),  we didn’t even know what her blood type was.  Would it be a match?

“Match, schmatch.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m the one.  Tell your doctor to test me,” mom insisted.  She even called my nephrologist herself, and was told that she might be considered as a last resort.

My cousin Lisa heard the news, and though we hadn’t seen each other for more than 25 years, she offered to donate a kidney and went right to her doctor to get tested.  Her results were in Colorado within a few days and though she was not a match, she arrived in Colorado days later to reconnect and offer support. 

We were running out of potential donors.  My energy had been fading for a few months, and by summer 2005 was operating at the level of a Soviet brown-out—with just barely enough light to read by.  Friends around the world stood by ready to send the necessary blood tests, but the doctors felt chances were slim that I’d find a match.  They finally agreed to test my mother. 

“Because she’s older, the kidney might not last as long as a younger donor’s would,” the doctors warned. 

“When you’re done with it, they’ll be able to give it to someone else!” Mom retorted.

We looked into a portable dialysis machine, one that I could use during the night at home in Jakarta if I wasn’t able to get a transplant this summer. 

Mom got tested and sent her results back to my doctors.  She was a perfect match.

When I called to tell her, she screamed as if she’d just won a million dollars in the lottery.  Her joy, her complete gladness, still makes me cry.

Now it was time to get going in earnest.  Mom flew over the next day.  When I greeted her at the airport I told her she didn’t have to give me a kidney just because she was the only match we’d found. 

She took my face in her hands and said firmly, “Honey, I would give you my heart.”

The battery of tests began.  Mom had to get another complete physical.  She got an MRI, more blood tests.  The results showed her to be an ideal donor for me.  That week my nephrologist told me she’d been at a cocktail party with some of her colleagues, who commented that Mom’s kidneys were as healthy as those of a fifty year-old, rather than a sixty-five year old.  A couple of tests and days later, they announced that her kidneys were on a par with healthy thirty year-old kidneys! 

Mom’s glad confidence never wavered.  The day of the transplant we laughed over our immodest surgery gowns.  I thanked her, again.  We held hands as we wheeled on our gurneys down the hall, waved and said we loved each other as we split into different rooms.

And here we are back in the states for summer, three years later.  Mom hustled us down the trail at the end of our five-mile hike this evening.  This morning she showed me pictures from her last annual week-long bike trip with her girl friends.  Six women wearing bike helmets and wind jackets lean together and grin at the camera.  Their ages range from 50 through 73 and they’re all tough as nails. 

I turned 45 last week.  I’m so grateful.  Forty-five feels like a perfectly wonderful age, and I’m so looking forward to this year, and to all my years. 

During the process of searching for a viable donor, my family and I felt utterly buoyed up by the loving self-sacrifice of all the dear people who offered me a kidney.  I talked about the process constantly, and random acquaintances began to express interest in becoming donors, from my dentist’s assistant to friends of friends. 

There are dozens of websites dedicated to providing information about becoming an organ donor.  Others describe the process of becoming a living kidney donor.  All of them overflow with stories of gratitude from recipients and families of recipients whose lives were saved. 

Bacon-Wrapped Scallops

Seriously, is there anything better than bacon-wrapped scallops? I mean what's not to like?

 

The combination of thick, juicy bacon and succulent sea scallops topped with a little smoked salt is pure perfection.

Make a salad with some roasted beets and goat cheese and open a bottle of crisp white wine. Just do it. You'll thank me.

Bacon-Wrapped Scallops

Buy some sea scallops. If your scallops are large, as ours were, you will need one strip of bacon per scallop. If they are smaller, you can probably use half a strip of bacon per scallop.

Partially cook the slices of bacon (you want the bacon to be flexible and nowhere near crispy) and then wrap each scallop secure with a toothpick or on skewers. The bacon should overlap a little.

Broil the bacon-wrapped scallops, turning once, until the bacon is crispy and the scallops are opaque. Sprinkle with just a little sea salt. We like smoked salt on ours.

Pink Pasta

Our CSA is now including beets in our share weekly and while I really love roasted beets in salad or paired with goat cheese, or served warm with dill, I must say my repertoire is in no way extensive enough to keep up with the quantities in my crisper.

As some of you may know, I was recently given a pasta machine and used it for the first time last week and now I'm on a roll (sorry, had to make the pun!). When I saw a gorgeous post from Inge at Vanielje Kitchen for beetroot pasta I knew I had to to try it. Sometimes things just come together in the nicest way.

I've learned a few things:

1) Making fettucini on a seriously hot and humid day is a challenge. There is no point in trying to make pretty nests, as everything just sticks to itself.

2) When the nests idea fails, having something ready to hang the strips of pasta from is wise. I ended up using plastic coat hangers! (Note to self: get some dowel rods for this purpose.)

3) Trying to deal with long strands of fettucini while answering a continuously ringing phone is insane. Turn off the phone next time.

It's difficult to outshine blazingly pink pasta, but the sauce recipe I used does just that. The sweet, earthy combination of beets with garlic, sage, blue cheese and cream had our eyes rolling back in our respective heads with pleasure.

And if you want to keep up with the pink theme, serve some Pink Lemonade Bars for dessert.

Beetroot Fettucini with Beets and Blue Cheese
pasta recipe adapted from Vanielje Kitchen and sauce from Ann Gunkel

Roast the beets:

Wash 6 medium-sized beets. Cut off the tops and wrap each in aluminum foil (drizzle olive oil and a pinch of kosher salt). Place in a shallow pan and bake at 400 F for 50-60 minutes. (If it's too hot to be using the oven, you can put the beets in a dish, drizzle with the olive oil and salt and then cover them with plastic wrap and microwave them for about 8 - 10 minutes.) Allow the beets to cool for 15 minutes or so and then using a paper towel, rub each beet to remove the skin.

Puree 2 of the beets in a blender and set aside. This will be used in the pasta dough.

Dice the remaining beets and place in a separate bowl. You'll be using them for the sauce.

Make the pasta:

2 cups "00" flour, plus more for work surface
2 large eggs, and 1 egg yolk, beaten
Pinch of salt
2 - 3 tablespoons pureed beets

Mound flour in center of a large work surface, and make a well in the middle. Pour the eggs into the well and add the salt and 2 large tablespoons of the pureed beet.

Using a fork, beat eggs--  slowly incorporating the flour, beginning with inner rim of well. When flour is incorporated, gather dough together to form a rounded mass. Begin kneading dough with the palms of your hands. If the dough seems too stiff you can add a little more of the pureed beet. If it seems too sticky, add more flour. Once it comes together scrape up any dried bits of dough and discard them.

Lightly flour the work surface and knead the dough until it's smooth and elastic-- about 15 - 20 minutes-- and then wrap it in plastic and let it rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.

To make the fettucini begin by dividing the dough into 4 equal pieces and patting them flat. Lightly flour them and cover them with plastic wrap. Pass the first piece of dough through the widest setting a couple of times, each time folding it in thirds before rolling it through again. Then continue rolling the dough, setting the machine one step smaller with every pass until you've reach setting 6.

Attach the pasta cutter to the machine and run the lengths of dough through it. Theoretically you can lightly coat your fettucini with flour and let it rest, but we hung our strips up to dry.

Reserve any of the pureed beet you have left-- you can add it to the pasta water later to help keep the pasta from fading too much during cooking.

Make the sauce:

The remaining 4 roasted beets
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup chopped onion
3 large cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage
1/4 cup white wine
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup beef stock
1/2 cup crumbled roquefort cheese
chopped fresh Italian (flat leaf) parsley for garnish
salt & pepper, to taste

Saute the onion, sage and garlic in the olive oil until tender. Deglaze the pan with the white wine and continue cooking to reduce by half. Add the beets, cream, stock, and salt and pepper. Bring the sauce to a boil and then reduce the heat and simmer 10-12 minutes.

Meanwhile, set a large pot of water to boil, adding a heaping teaspoon of pureed beet. Put the pasta in to cook when the sauce is ready-- it will only take about three minutes. While the pasta is cooking, turn the heat down under the sauce, and add the roquefort, stirring it to incorporate.

Drain the pasta and place in a serving bowl. Pour the sauce over and toss. Garnish with parsley and a little more cheese, if desired.

Gotta Try That! Bourbon-Maple Seared Scallops

Thanks heavens for Food Gawker, RecipeMuncher and FP Daily... who stepped in while Tastespotting was on hiatus. If it weren't for their generosity in giving us more places to drool over beautiful food I would never have seen the very fabulous photo of Bourbon Maple Scallops taken by Meryl of Inspired Bites. And if I hadn't seen it and followed the link to her recipe my daughter Sophie would still be ignorant of her new-found love of scallops.

Seriously, people, try this recipe. It's easy and it's spectacular.

Bourbon-Maple Scallops

1 pound of fresh sea scallops
1/4 cup Bourbon
1/4 cup maple syrup
2 Tbs olive oil
salt
pepper

Lightly score the tops and bottoms of the scallops with a crosshatch pattern, making sure your knife doesn't slice too deeply.

Whisk the liquids and seasonings together and pour over the scallops, letting them marinate for 15-30 minutes. Saute on a medium-high flame for 2-3 minute per side. Plate them up and drizzle the pan juices over the top.

This post goes out to Bookmarked Recipes, a weekly event hosted by Ruth's Kitchen Experiments.

Green Eggs and Lamb

"You do not like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say."

Okay, yes, I am taking liberties with Dr. Seuss here, but I think you'll like green eggs with lamb. And if your eggs and lamb (and onions and garlic and parsley and cilantro) are locally produced the earth will like you, too.

So it's the middle of the week and there are odds and ends needing to be used up before the next CSA pick-up on Saturday. Why not make a big hash of potatoes, leeks, and kale, flavor it with charmoula and crown the glorious mess with a merguez sausage and a poached egg?

Green Eggs and Lamb
serves 2

about 8 small new potatoes, cut into pieces and cooked
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 leek, cleaned and sliced into thin disks
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/4 cup charmoula (recipe below)
a large handful of kale, roughly chopped
2 mergeuz sausage patties
2 eggs
more charmoula, for garnish

Bring about 3 inches of water to a high simmer in a large skillet (this will be your poaching water).

While the water is heating, saute the leeks with the olive oil in another large skillet until soft and translucent over medium heat. Add the potatoes and garlic and let them heat for a minute or two and then add the charmoula, stirring gently to combine. When everything is nice and hot, push the potato mixture to the side and add the mergeuz patties.

Once you've turned the sausage, you'll want to be sure your poaching water is ready to go and get the eggs ready by breaking them one at a time into a ramekin or coffee cup. When you're sure your sausage is ready it's time to poach the eggs. Slide each egg gently into the simmering water. Let them poach about 2 minutes for runny yolks-- longer if you are so inclined.

In the meantime, plate up the hash and sausage. Remove the eggs with a slotted spoon and let the water run off before gently transferring them to the top merguez patties. Garnish with charmoula and dig in.

Charmoula

1 clove garlic
1 small hot red pepper cut into chunks
2 bunches fresh cilantro, rinsed and most of the stems cut off
1 bunch parsley, rinsed and most of the stems cut off
juice of 1 lemon
cumin powder, to taste
4 - 6 tablespoons olive oil

Drop the garlic clove and peppers into a food processor and whirl. Add the cilantro, parsley, lemon juice and cumin and pulse a few times. Then add the olive oil while pulsing until the consistency looks right. It shouldn't look quite as runny as pesto does.

Left-overs can be frozen in plastic bags and used later to flavor fish, soups, and all sorts of things.

Scapes and 'shrooms

So, in an attempt to do my bit for the resistance against the intimidating onslaught of our CSA veggie bounty, I decided it should fall upon me to do something with the garlic scapes. I'd never even heard of garlic scapes until recently so I hadn't the first idea what to do with them. They looked a bit like spring onions that had been attacked by a crazed, curling-tong-wielding, veg-hating hairdresser. Thrusting that rather disturbing thought forcefully aside I did a bit of googling and came up with a very promising-sounding pasta dish - an adaptation of a recipe by Chef Dante Boccuzzi of Aureole, right here in New York. I made a few very minor adjustments to the recipe: obviously I scaled it down for two people rather than four, used about a half tablespoon of truffle oil (thanks Pasticerra!) instead of the truffle butter and I used a little more stock than Mr. Boccuzzi recommends. I also used crimini mushrooms (because that's what we had), and ziti instead of orzo. Other than that, I didn't mess with what turned out to be sheer pasta perfection.

Garlic Scape and Mushroom Pasta
serves 2

1 medium onion, diced
3 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper
6 ounces chicken stock
1/2 pound pasta (orecchietti or similar)
About 6 oz assorted mushrooms
3 garlic scapes (trim off the 'flower' at the end and chop the remainder into half-inch pieces)
1 tbsp butter
2 tbsp heavy cream, whisked until slightly thickened
1/2 tbsp truffle oil
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus shavings
A slack handful of arugula

Over low heat, gently cook the onion in half of the olive oil, until it's tender. Season with salt and pepper. Meanwhile, heat the stock in another pan. Add the pasta to the onions and mix thoroughly. Gradually add the stock to the pasta, cover and cook at a low simmer, Stir fairly frequently to make sure it cooks evenly. It takes about 15-20 minutes, but check it to be sure.

In a large skillet heat the remaining olive oil and sear the mushrooms and garlic scapes until golden brown. Add the butter and keep stirring until it browns a bit, then strain the mushrooms and scapes; set aside and keep warm.

Drizzle the truffle oil over the pasta, add the grated parmesan and the arugula. Give it a stir until the arugula just starts to wilt. Stir in the cream just before serving. Serve the pasta and top with the mushroom and scapes. Garnish with a few shavings of parmesan.

This method of cooking the pasta (absorption) was new to me. It involves using much less liquid than the old immerse-in-water-and-boil routine. The idea is to simmer slowly and let the flavours of the stock and other ingredients infuse the pasta. I have to say, it works. I gave the pasta almost twenty minutes, stirred it often, and it was not only beautifully al dente but also much tastier than pasta cooked in the normal way. As for those scapes, what a delightfully subtle flavour! The texture was somewhat like a more yielding asparagus but the taste... just a hint of garlic and a very slight saltiness which combined really well with the earthy mushrooms, the bitter arugula, the onion and the salty parmesan. And then the smooth (but not cloying) mouth feel provided by the butter, oil and cream made the whole effect a smooth, savoury joy.  Ann and I both agreed this dish was a major hit, and we shall be doing it for as long as the CSA keep giving us these delicious, curly little stalks of delight.

Heatwave Cooking: Slow Cooker Risotto

Yes, yes, I know that the only real way to make risotto is over the stove. I do it all winter long. But that was then and this is now. A very warm now, and anyway I told you all I was retiring the stove for the summer.

I had some beautiful asparagus to use up and I'm a little (possibly extremely) tired of salad. And besides, Lora Brody said it would work. Plus I wanted risotto and I was desperate. (But we had salad with it too, dammit!)

The recipe specified two hours in the slow cooker set on high. At one hour my risotto was looking close to done and was perfect half an hour later. At two hours (I was waiting for Jack to get home) it was the opposite of al dente. It tasted nice, but it was a bit soggy. Still, I'll be trying this again with a shorter cooking time. The notion of risotto in the height of summer without heating up the kitchen (or myself!) is one I find difficult to resist.

I substituted chopped leeks for shallots, as I had some needing to be used up, and decreased the amount of olive oil substantially.

Asparagus Risotto
serves 4

1 pound asparagus
1/4 cup olive oil
2 shallots, peeled and minced
1 1/4 cup arborio rice
1/4 cup dry white wine
3-3/4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 tsp. salt
1/2 or 2/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Cut the asparagus into 1 to 1 1/2-inch pieces and blanch for about two minutes in boiling, salted water. Use a slotted spoon to remove the asparagus pieces to a bowl of cold water, shocking it into a lovely bright  green color and stopping it from cooking. Drain and set aside.

Heat the oil over medium heat, and saute the shallots (or sliced leeks!) until they have softened. Add the rice and stir until all of the grains are coated with the olive oil. Add the wine and scrap up any brown bits from the bottom of the pan.

Transfer to the slow cooker and stir in the chicken broth and salt. Cover and cook on High for about 2 hours or until all liquid is absorbed. Just before serving, stir in the asparagus and cheese.

For those of you who haven't seen the new tastespotting clones, be sure to check out Food Gawker, Recipe Muncher, FP Daily and New Tastings!