banana pineapple walnut muffins

Lately, my Sunday mornings have been all about muffins. I don't know where this obsession came from, but it's here for now, and I'm more than happy to indulge it. I'm a muffin snob, so it's in the best interest of all involved that I make my own. (In general I despise bakery muffins - they usually fall into one of two unfortunate categories: the white sugar/white flour bombs and the depressingly leaden and dry whole wheat bricks). So there I was this past Sunday, just out of bed and instantly possessed by the now-familiar muffin fairy, turning on the oven and flying through fridge, freezer, and cabinets gathering the provisions, even before the filter had been plunged on the French press.

I like to start with the basic muffin recipe from Joy of Cooking and adapt as I go. It's a good blueprint -- straightforward and reliable, it tolerates lots of experimentation and always turns out good results. This time I replaced all-purpose flour with spelt flour, milk with yogurt, melted butter with olive oil, and white sugar with maple syrup. Inspired by leftover pineapple chunks in the fridge and memories of the incredible Hummingbird Cake from Buttercup Bake Shop in nyc, I decided to go with a banana-pineapple-nut combination. Shredded coconut would have been really good, too, but I was out.

The batter comes together in about 10 minutes, and before you know it a batch of golden, fragrant muffins are emerging from the oven. Little breakfast cakes that are moist, tender, and not too sweet - just how I like them.

Another bonus to these Sunday baking sessions: muffins for breakfast all week (if they last that long - need to ration!). I like to warm a muffin in the toaster oven, split it open, and slather it with almond butter (I am obsessed with the nut butters from Justin's right now). A perfect, light first breakfast to sustain me through each day's mass- transit-in-morning-rush-hour adventure. I have my second breakfast at work - lately it's been Seven Stars Farm plain yogurt with blueberries and ground flax seeds. I am a hungry girl, so that just about keeps me till lunch.

banana pineapple walnut muffins
makes 12 muffins
Shredded dried coconut would also be a nice addition to these muffins (about 1/4 cup), in which case melted virgin coconut oil would be great to use as the fat. You can also substitute pecans for the walnuts (the pecans in my freezer were of dubious age, so I used walnuts.)
dry:
1-3/4 cups whole spelt flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda

wet:
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup plain whole milk yogurt (or kefir, or milk with a squeeze of lemon juice added)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil (or melted coconut oil or melted butter), plus more for greasing muffin tin
2 bananas, mashed
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp grated lemon zest

mix-ins:

1/4 cup chopped fresh pineapple (1/4-inch dice) (you could also use canned or frozen - drain well)
2 Tbsp chopped walnuts

1. Preheat oven to 400F. Lightly grease muffin tin or line with paper muffin cups.
2. Whisk together dry ingredients in a large bowl.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk wet ingredients until well combined.
4. Pour wet mixture into dry and stir until just combined. Stir in pineapple and walnuts.
5. Spoon batter into lightly greased muffin cups (about 1/3 cup each). Sprinkle more walnuts on top, and bake at 350 F for 15 to 20 minutes, until golden around the edges and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

one-pot lentils and quinoa

I was watching Lidia the other day: the episode where she visits an Italian farm where a woman raises rare, heritage poultry breeds. I love Lidia: love how she begins every dish with garlic sizzling in lots of olive oil, love how she says “Itly,” instead of Italy, just like my tiny Italian grandmother did, love how she holds court in that awesome kitchen of hers like the matriarch that she is. When Lidia returns to her kitchen on Long Island, she roasts a lovely, fat duck, and serves it with a one-pot side dish of lentils and rice. One pot! That's my kind of Tuesday night meal (well, minus the roast duck; no way that’s happening on a weeknight).

I love making lentils for dinner during the week, since unlike most bean varieties they do not need to be presoaked and cook quickly. For my one-pot meal, I decided to replace rice with quinoa, my favorite pseudo-grain, which, like lentils, is quick-cooking and doesn’t need to be pre-soaked.

This simple dish could be a side or a main course, depending on the situation. It starts with the usual combination of vegetables and aromatics - onion, carrot, celery, garlic - whizzed in the food processor till finely minced. (Lidia also threw in some pancetta, which I didn’t have in the fridge. No problem, I just added some smoked paprika later on -- not quite the same effect as pork, but it adds a nice smokiness). Saute the veg mixture for a few minutes in olive oil, stir in a spoonful of tomato paste, and deglaze with white wine, savoring the resulting whiff of deliciously fragrant steam. In go the lentils, spices, and water. Simmer. Quinoa hops in. Simmer some more. Stir in fresh herbs….

And, voila, it’s done: tender lentils and rice, cooked to a creamy, risotto-like consistency. No, I cannot report that these lentils and quinoa were accompanied by pieces of succulent roast duck, its skin burnished and crisp. Maybe next time. But this protein-packed combination performed very well on its own, accompanied by a tumble of quickly sautéed kale. A delicious, home-cooked weeknight dinner.

To finish the dish, I drizzled the lentils and quinoa with good extra virgin olive oil: as Lidia says, to make it glow. Or is it glisten? Or shine? Oops, I can’t remember right now. Either way, it always feels like the right thing to do.

one-pot lentils and quinoa
Inspired by Lidia's Lentils and Rice

extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium sized onion
2 carrots
2 celery ribs
1 clove garlic, peeled
1 Tbsp tomato paste
1/4 cup dry white wine (I used a lemony sauvignon blanc from Chile)
1 cup green lentils, rinsed
1 bay leaf
1/4 tsp smoked paprika
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 cup quinoa, rinsed
1 tsp minced fresh rosemary
1 tsp minced fresh thyme
salt
freshly ground black pepper

1. Pulse the onion, carrot, celery, and garlic in a food processor (or chop by hand) until finely minced.

2. Heat 2 to 3 Tbsp olive oil in a pot, add vegetable mixture and a pinch of salt, and saute over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables have softened and are fragrant, about 5 minutes.

3. Clear a spot in the pan (Lidia referred to it as a “hot spot”), add the tomato paste, stir it in the spot for a minute or so, and then stir to combine with the vegetables (I’m not sure exactly what this accomplishes, maybe it amps up the flavor of the tomato paste before it gets mixed in with the vegetables? Who knows. Lidia did it, so I did it.)

4. Add wine, stir to deglaze, and simmer for a few minutes until almost completely evaporated.

5. Stir in lentils, smoked paprika, and red pepper flakes. Add 2-1/2 cups of hot water (I boiled it in a tea kettle; adding hot just makes things go more quickly), bay leaf, and a large pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer covered for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Check the liquid level and add a bit more water if it looks like the lentils are getting too dry.

6. Add quinoa and an additional ½ cup of hot water. Cook for about 20 minutes, until lentils and quinoa are tender. (Lidia said she was aiming for the texture of risotto, moist but not soupy, so I did the same. The dish is pretty forgiving, so you can add water if needed, or let it cook uncovered for a few minutes at the end to dry it out a bit). Stir in fresh herbs and 1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil.

7. Drizzle with more extra-virgin olive oil before serving.

foriana sauce

I came across something called foriana sauce recently, while reading an article in Edible Jersey (I love the Edible magazines!). The sauce caught my attention, first, because I just liked the sound of its name -- foriana, and, second, because it included walnuts, which reminded me of a walnut sauce Nonnie (my dad’s mom) made on Palm Sunday every year when I was growing up. For a while now I have wanted to make a walnut-based pasta sauce, so I thought I would give the foriana sauce a try.  

According to the article, foriana sauce originated as a Lenten dish in Ischia, an island off the coast of Naples. It is an utterly simple, rustic, savory-spicy-sweet pesto-style sauce made from walnuts, pine nuts, garlic, raisins, and dried oregano, blended together in a food processor and then sautéed in olive oil. I couldn’t resist tinkering with the recipe just a bit, so I added a pinch of red pepper flakes, for extra heat, and a grating of lemon zest and squeeze of lemon juice for brightness and acidity (I’ll bet balsamic would be good for this purpose, too).  I served the foriana sauce tossed with farfalle, just like Nonnie did with her walnut sauce. Since this is a thick, dense pesto, I added a few splashes of olive oil and some of the pasta cooking water to thin it out just enough to coat the farfalle evenly. (Not too much liquid, though. I wanted to keep it fairly dry, so the sauce would snuggle nicely into the nooks and crannies of the farfalle).

Next, I’m thinking about creating a hybrid sauce, a cross between foriana and Nonnie’s walnut sauce, with the addition of tomatoes, tomato paste, and maybe a dash of cinnamon (and leaving out the lemon zest and juice)…will keep you posted on the results. 

foriana sauce with farfalle

Adapted from Well-Preserved: Recipes and Techniques for Putting Up Small Batches of Seasonal Foods, by Eugenia Bone (by way of Edible Jersey)

1/2 cup walnuts

1/2 cup pine nuts

2-1/2 Tbsp sliced garlic (about 5 cloves)

1-1/2 tsp dried oregano

1/4 cup raisins (red or golden)

pinch of red pepper flakes (about 1/4 tsp)

1/2 tsp lemon zest

2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 lb farfalle

2 to 3 Tbsp roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley

Juice of 1 lemon (or to taste)

Sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

• Pulse walnuts, pine nuts, and garlic in food processor until roughly chopped. Add the oregano, raisins, red pepper flakes, and lemon zest, and pulse for a few more seconds to combine.
• Heat 2 Tbsp olive oil in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add the nut, garlic, and raisin mixture along with a pinch each of salt and pepper. Cook, stirring constantly, for about 5 minutes, until the nuts are lightly toasted (the mixture will look quite dry). Transfer to a bowl and reserve until ready to use.
• Cook the farfalle according to package directions in a large pot of salted, boiling water. Drain, reserving about 1/2 cup of the cooking water, and return pasta to pot.
  
• Stir in foriana sauce, parsley, and 2 Tbsp olive oil. Add the pasta cooking water, a tablespoon or two at a time, using just enough to loosen the sauce so it coats the pasta evenly but does not make it watery (I used about 3 Tbsp). Add lemon juice to taste, and season with salt and pepper if desired.

Food, Inc. Broadcast Premiere - April 21st on PBS

If you haven't seen Food, Inc. yet check it out on PBS tomorrow night.

The usual suspects are there - great interviews with Michael Pollan, Joel Salatin - plus commentaries from other farmers, purveyors, and business people. Interesting and thought-provoking, even if you're already read lots of Pollan et al.

orange apricot braised beef

On Friday mornings I wake up a little earlier than usual to visit the weekly greenmarket that sets up just a block from my apartment building. I don't always make it, but when I do it seems to brighten my mood for the rest of the day. I breathe the cool morning air, surrounded by fresh-from-the-farm vegetables and fruits, chat with purveyors and greenmarket-loving neighbors, and my faith in humanity is restored.

On a recent trip, I picked up some pastured beef stew meat, planning for one final braise before the heat of summer turns my attention to lighter dishes. A few days later, though, a record-breaking spring heat wave arrived in the northeast, with temperatures soaring into mid-90s. I thought my braising days were over for now, and every time I spotted the stew meat in the freezer, I worried that I might not get to it until fall (I worry about strange things).

But then, as I should have expected, this being my thirty-third mid-Atlantic spring, the weather pendulum swung dramatically to the opposite end of the spectrum. Forties and low fifties, cloudy, windy, drizzly. Not great for my beloved Central Park wanderings, but (yippee!) braising weather was back! Inspired by the chill in the air and a bottle of Sicilian red wine I picked up on sale during the week, I spent a lovely, lazy Saturday afternoon braising beef in a sweet-tangy bath of red wine, vinegar, orange zest, cinnamon, apricots, and herbs -- a kinda-sorta Sicilian beef stew.

orange apricot braised beef
We had this over mashed potatoes, so I did not add potatoes to the braise itself. But, if you prefer, just add some cubed potatoes at the same time the larger carrot chunks go into the pot, and they will both be tender by the time the beef is done. Asparagus, lightly sauteed and tossed with butter, was a delicious side.

2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 lbs beef stew meat, cubed
1 medium onion, chopped
3 carrots, peeled (divided: 1 carrot chopped, 2 carrots cut into bite sized chunks)
2 celery ribs, chopped
3 stalks of spring garlic, white and tender green parts sliced (tougher green tops discarded) (can substitute 1 leek or 2 shallots)
2 Tbsp tomato paste
1/2 cup plus 1/4 cup dry, spicy red wine (I used a dry Sicilian; a Syrah or Zinfandel would also work well)
1 tsp red wine vinegar
7 or 8 dried apricots, quartered (I used unsulfured Turkish)
bouquet garni (1 sprig rosemary, 1 sprig thyme, and 2 dried bay leaves, bound with kitchen twine)
2 cinnamon sticks
2 strips of orange zest, each about 1 by 4 inches in size (preferably from an organic orange)
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

1. Heat olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Blot beef cubes with paper towel to remove excess moisture, season liberally with salt and pepper, and saute until well-browned (I did this in two batches to avoid crowding the pan).
2. Remove beef from pot with a slotted spoon. Add onion, chopped carrot, celery, and spring garlic to pot, and a pinch of salt. Saute for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly caramelized. Add tomato paste and cook for another minute or so, stirring constantly. 
3. Add 1/2 cup red wine and red wine vinegar, and scrape up brown bits from bottom of pot. Lower heat and simmer for 5 to 8 minutes, until liquid is almost completely evaporated. Return beef to pot, and add 3 cups of water, apricots, bouquet garni, cinnamon sticks, orange zest, red pepper flakes, and a pinch each of salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and cook at a gentle simmer, partially covered, for about 2-1/2 hours. Keep an eye on the liquid level and add more water if the sauce is getting too thick (and/or cover the pot for a while to slow down the evaporation). 
4. Add the remaining carrot chunks to the pot and simmer for an additional 30 minutes until the carrots are tender. At this point, the beef should be fork-tender. Remove bouquet garni, cinnamon sticks, and orange zest. Stir in the remaining 1/4 cup red wine (adding wine at the end really brightens up the finished dish), season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve. 

The stew can be eaten right away, but it is even better if it has a chance to rest before serving (overnight in the fridge, or even for an hour on top of the stove). Reheat over a low flame, add a little water if the sauce is very thick, and finish with the wine just before serving.

herbed white bean puree with spring garlic

For garlic junkies like me, spring is a heady time. It's when all of the young garlicky things begin to roll into the greenmarket -- green garlic, spring garlic, garlic scapes. The spring garlic arrives first, and last week I picked up my first bunch of the season (I’ve found that the terms spring garlic and green garlic are often used interchangeably, so some sources might refer to this as green garlic). Nomenclature aside, this very young garlic is harvested before the head and individual cloves have developed, and it looks a lot like a scallion that has been painted purple for a brief length along its stem. Its flavor is mildly garlicky and herbaceous, quite delicious minced and whisked into vinaigrette or sauteed with dark leafy greens. It’s perfect anytime you want to add a hint of fresh, clean garlic flavor to a dish, rather than the pungency and heat of mature garlic. In this capacity, spring garlic makes a fine addition to a creamy white bean puree, flecked throughout with fresh rosemary and parsley, like the one I whipped up over the weekend for the opening act of a spring supper with friends.

I am Italian, therefore I must serve appetizers. They've found a gene for this, you know. And this white bean puree fits my definition of a perfect appetizer: simple to prepare, full of flavor, and light enough not to spoil any appetites. For dipping, I set out slices of crisp raw fennel and carrot, and my favorite crackers -- Mary's Gone Crackers - they are wheat-free and gluten-free, made from rice and seeds, pleasantly nutty and light. A log of goat cheese, rolled in a mixture of mortar-and-pestle-ground herbs and spices (herbes de Provence, fennel seed, red pepper flakes, and a little salt and black pepper), and a bowl of olives (oil-cured black and a mix of brined black and green) rounded out the pre-dinner snacks. All around this was a light, appetite-awakening assortment that went very nicely with a glass of prosecco.

PS: All you garlic lovers out there, check out this great article from the New York Times – all you ever wanted to know about young garlic, scapes, and what to do with them. The very minute green garlic arrives at the greenmarket I will be making this soup.


herbed white bean puree with spring garlic
As an appetizer, this puree is delicious as a dip for veggies or as a topping for crostini. Scooped into a whole-wheat pita or spread on a wrap, along with sprouts, cucumber, and tomato, it would also make a light and satisfying lunch or dinner.

Makes about 3-1/2 cups

• 1 cup dried white beans (such as navy or cannellini), picked through and soaked in cold water overnight (this will yield about 3 cups of cooked beans; if using canned beans, you'll need about two 14-ounce cans, drained and rinsed)
• small piece of kombu (dried kelp), about 1 inch by 1 inch
• 1 tsp herbes de Provence
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 Tbsp chopped spring garlic (I used the bulb up through the first couple of inches of tender green tops, and discarded the tough darker green tops) (or substitute 1 Tbsp regular garlic and 1 Tbsp shallot, chopped)
• 1 Tbsp chopped fresh rosemary
• 1 Tbsp chopped fresh parsley
• Juice of 1 lemon (2 to 3 Tbsp) (plus more, if needed, to taste)
• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (plus more as needed)
• sea salt
• freshly ground black pepper

1. Drain the soaked beans, place them in a medium pot, and cover with fresh, cold water by about 3 inches. Add the kombu, herbes de Provence, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to a lively simmer. Add 1 tsp sea salt. Partially cover pot and cook until beans are tender, stirring occasionally, for about 1 hour to 1-1/2 hours. Cooking time will vary based on the size and age of the beans. (I always taste 5 beans to determine if the pot is done; if you taste only one you can be fooled, since they can cook at different rates.)
2. When beans are tender, turn off heat, cover pot, and let the beans sit in their cooking liquid for about 30 minutes. (This will make them creamier.) Remove bay leaf and kombu (if the kombu has fallen apart, don't worry about removing all of it -- it won't affect the taste or appearance of the puree. I just remove any bigger pieces). Drain beans, reserving about 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid.
3. Transfer beans to a food processor. Add spring garlic, rosemary, parsley, lemon juice, olive oil, 1/4 cup of bean cooking liquid, and a pinch each of salt and pepper. Blend for a few minutes until a smooth puree has formed, scraping down sides of bowl as needed so everything is incorporated.
4. Check for consistency, and blend in more olive oil and/or bean cooking liquid if needed to achieve a smooth and creamy mixture. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and more lemon juice if desired. 
5. The puree can be served right away, but I like to make this a few hours in advance (or the night before) and let it sit in the fridge, which allows the flavors to meld. Cover the surface of the puree with plastic wrap to prevent it from drying out. Let sit at room temp for about 30 minutes before serving.  

seared scallops with cauliflower puree and caper-raisin emulsion

Travel always brings unique culinary pleasures, ideas, inspiration. On a trip to Atlanta in mid-March, I fell in love with crisp-fried, cumin-dusted chickpeas, lightly pickled baby root vegetables served in a mason jar with luscious homemade buttermilk dressing (from the "Food in a Jar" section of the menu - does it get any more adorable?), and roasted beet and arugula salad with lemony fresh ricotta at the restaurant Abattoir. At R. Thomas' Deluxe Grill, an eclectic place where the chef really has a thing for quinoa (it's in at least half the dishes on the menu) and also for exotic birds (not on the menu, but on the premises; they have a sort of makeshift bird sanctuary surrounding the entrance), I tucked into a soul-soothing take on Southern comfort food called The Southern Vegetarian. And, though I was and continue to be utterly shocked by this, I had some amazingly sweet-smoky-vinegary stewed collard greens at a lunch buffet spot in the convention center (I don't normally seek out convention center food, but I was on a work trip. And these were among the best collards I've ever had; of course, I'm from the northeast, so you can take that with a grain of salt!).

But my most-swooned-over dish was a main course of pan-seared sea scallops with cauliflower puree and caper-raisin emulsion at Peasant Bistro. My goodness, what a combination. Each bite was a chorus of flavors and textures: sweet, tender mollusc, velvety and savory puree, briny-sweet-pungent sauce. The addition of a few stems of lightly sauteed broccoli rabe, nestled into the puree, were an ideal counterpoint to the sweetness of the scallops. I adored everything about the dish, but it was the cauliflower puree that really hooked me. So silky and full of flavor -- as satisfying as mashed potatoes, but lighter and more elegant. At first taste, I thought, this is definitely a dish to make at home. 

Although it was new to me, the combination of scallops, cauliflower, and caper-raisin sauce apparently is not a recent invention; Jean-Georges Vongerichten's signature dish at his flagship Jean Georges, right here in NYC, features scallops with roasted cauliflower and caper-raisin sauce. Admittedly, I don't get to Jean Georges very often (I would love to be a regular, but I've dined there only once), so I ended up traveling nearly 1000 miles to try this combination. Maybe one of these days I'll get to Jean Georges again, and if I do I will definitely try his version. For now, though, I'll enjoy my home-kitchen creation.

Pan-Seared Sea Scallops

Sea scallops (3 to 6 per person, depending on size)
1 Tbsp XVOO
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

• Dry the scallops by patting them with a paper towel, and sprinkle them with salt and pepper on both sides.
• Heat the butter and olive oil in a cast-iron (or heavy-bottomed stainless steel) pan over medium-high heat. When butter stops foaming, add scallops and cook for about 2 minutes per side, until they are caramelized and cooked to desired doneness (I like mine medium-rare: still translucent in the center).

Cauliflower Puree
yield: about 3-1/2 cups, serves 4 to 6

1 medium cauliflower, base and leaves removed, and cut into florets (about 3 cups)
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup milk, scalded
Pinch of freshly ground nutmeg (I grated it on a microplane)
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

• Steam the cauliflower florets for 10 to 12 minutes, until tender when pierced with a knife (alternatively, blanch the cauliflower for 1 to 2 minutes in boiling water).
• Transfer cauliflower to a food processor. Add butter, hot milk, nutmeg, and a pinch of salt and pepper, and blend. I wanted a very smooth and creamy puree, so I blended it for 2 to 3 minutes; for a more chunky mixture, 30 seconds to 1 minute should do.
• Season to taste with additional salt and pepper, if needed, and serve. If made ahead, the puree can be reheated on the stove top, stirring often, until heated through.  

Sauteed Greens
serves 4 to 6

1 to 2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp finely chopped spring garlic (looks like scallions but with purplish bottoms; regular garlic or shallots can be substituted)
1 bunch (5 to 6 cups) dark leafy greens of your choice (great with broccoli rabe, or purple kale as pictured above; spinach, green kale, or collards would also be good), rinsed well and chopped coarsely
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.

• Heat olive oil in a pot or deep saute pan over medium heat. Add spring garlic and saute for a minute, stirring.
• Add greens in big handfuls, along with a pinch each of salt and pepper, stirring well. When greens are wilted, add a splash (2 to 3 Tbsp) of water, cover pot, and steam for about 10 minutes, until greens are tender. Season with additional salt and pepper, if desired.

Caper-Raisin Emulsion
yield: about 1/2 cup, serves 4 to 6 (i like to double the recipe just in case - the leftover sauce is delicious stirred into steamed grains)

1 Tbsp capers
1 Tbsp raisins (black or golden)
2 Tbsp flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Black pepper, to taste

• Combine all ingredients in a blender. Blend for 2 to 3 minutes until very smooth, and season to taste with pepper. If sauce is too thick, it can be thinned with a little more lemon juice or water.

I plated the dish in the Peasant Bistro style: a big dollop of cauliflower puree with the sauteed greens arranged on top, then placed a few scallops over the greens, and drizzled it all with the caper-raisin emulsion.

Note: updated 2/13/12 with yields for each component of the dish.