Full Disclosure

It's not only vacationing that's kept me from You Gonna Finish That? No, I've gone and met someone. Oh alright, let's come right out and say it. I have a boyfriend, and we'll be referring to him as Peyton on this here bloggy posty thing. And that's all you're gonna get out of me for now. I will add this, he's a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America. How's that for serendipity? So, to the detriment of the hard-earned loyalty of my reader(s), I've spent every weekend since returning to NYC down at his place in Philly, and not in front of my computer monitor, sweating over grammar and vocabulary.

Peyton makes me breakfast every Saturday morning.

Last weekend, after a day spent at Longwood Gardens, we did a grilled chicken Caesar salad for dinner. I paid, Peyton grilled (a real bargain for yours truly). I was in charge of the salad dressing.

Caesar Salad dressing - adapted from Antiquity

2 cloves garlic 6 anchovy fillets 2 egg yolks 1 Tbsp Dijon mustard 2 lemons, juiced 2 Tbsp water ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil ¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese Kosher salt Freshly ground black pepper

In a small food processor, pulse the garlic, anchovies, egg yolks, mustard, lemon juice and water until the mixture is smooth. With the machine running, slowing pour the olive oil in through the feed tube to make an emulsion. Stir in the Parmesan cheese with several grinds of black pepper. Taste for salt and set aside.

Peyton marinated chicken breasts in fresh herbs, some olive oil, a bit of white wine and a squeeze of anchovy paste for a couple of hours before grilling. Once the breasts were done (about 8 minutes per side on a hot grill), he put some nice sear marks on halved heads of romaine lettuce. You should see him with a carving knife. Like a surgeon!

I almost forgot, Peyton makes his own croutons. Don't you just love this guy!

Herbed croutons - a Peyton concoction

3 Tbsp olive oil 4 garlic cloves, minced 2 tsp chopped fresh thyme 1 tsp chopped fresh rosemary 3 cups country bread, crust removed and cut into ¾-inch cubes

In a heavy skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and herbs, and sauté until fragrant, just a minute or two. Remove from heat, add the cubed bread and toss to coat. Spread bread out onto backing pans and season with salt and pepper. Toast in a pre-heated 325°F oven, tossing occasionally, until golden and the moisture is baked out, about 15 minutes or so. Bring to room temperature uncovered.

Arrange grilled romaine on a plate, add croutons and drizzle with Caesar salad dressing. Garnish with some extra Parmesan cheese. Fan out sliced chicken breasts beside the romaine. If you have a professional chef at your disposal, make quick work of a fresh melon for some added color and tuck in. I picked a dry Australian Pinot Grigio to whet our whistles.

So, I'm back in the saddle with my own personal sidekick. Or maybe, at least in the kitchen anyway, I play Tonto to his Lone Ranger. That would make a most excellent nickname, don't you think?

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

The Leftover Challenge

Stacie Webb has been a Chebeaguer for some 30 odd years now. Husband Toby claims she wooed him via his stomach with her quick French bread, and once she had bagged him, never baked another loaf. They're both gracious family hosts and with the building of Webb House just steps away from our cottage, have become nearly year-round residents on the island. Late in our stay this year, Stacie invited us to their beautiful barn-style home for a "leftover" potluck. We were to prepare a main dish with whatever we could cull from our fridge after a couple weeks of culinary indulgences, while she would provide sides and her famous dessert.

Somehow, the entree inspiration ended up in my jurisdiction. But with expert advice at my elbow, and some fat chicken breasts in the freezer, it wasn't a significant problem coming up with something good to eat.

Parmesan Chicken - from Barefoot Contessa Family Style

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 tsp kosher salt ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper 3 extra-large eggs 1½ Tbsp water 1¼ cups seasoned dry bread crumbs ½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese Unsalted butter Olive oil

Butterfly each breast to make eight even cutlets. Between sheets of wax paper, pound the cutlets with a rolling pin until they are ¼-inch thick.

Combine the flour, salt, and pepper on a dinner plate. On a second plate, beat the eggs with the water. On a third plate, combine the bread crumbs and ½ cup grated Parmesan. Coat the chicken breasts on both sides with the flour mixture, then dip both sides into the egg mixture and dredge both sides in the bread-crumb mixture, pressing lightly.

Heat 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large sauté pan and cook 2 or 3 chicken breasts on medium-low heat for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, until cooked through. Add more butter and oil and cook the rest of the chicken breasts. Arrange on a platter and garnish with chopped fresh herbs (parsley and chives, in our case), and lemon wedges.

Stacie had leftover broccoli and green beans, which I offered to roast with garlic, sea salt and olive oil in a hot oven. There was bowtie pasta in our pantry, so I also made my popular pasta salad, expanding on our Parmesan theme.

We sat out on Stacie & Toby's screened-in porch on a lovely Maine evening. A pleasant northern breeze had sprung up just around the cocktail hour, pushing back the heat of the day. There were plenty of oohs and ahhs as we ate, but mostly, I think, we were afflicted with a heightened sense of satisfaction and contentedness.

Stacie had whipped up her blueberry crumble, a desert everyone goes ape over every summer. And true to her word, Stace gave me the recipe she had promised last season!

Blueberry Crumble - recipe adapted from Cook's Country

1 cup granulated sugar 8 tsp cornstarch ½ tsp salt 10 cups fresh blueberries 1⅓ cups all-purpose flour 1 cup old-fashioned oats ⅔ cup packed light brown sugar 1 tsp ground cinnamon 12 Tbsp unsalted butter cut into 12 pieces and chilled

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 375°. Combine sugar, cornstarch, and ¼ teaspoon salt in a large mixing bowl. Add the berries and toss to coat. Transfer to an 8-inch square baking dish.

Pulse the flour, oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, and remaining salt in a food processor, forming large crumbs. Add butter and continue to pulse until dime-sized clumps form. Transfer crumble to bowl and pinch together any powdery bits. Sprinkle crumble evenly over berries.

Bake until filling is bubbling around the edges and the topping is golden brown, about 30 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for at least 30 minutes. Serve at room temperature topped with vanilla ice cream.

Imagine the scene: a lush green island setting, lobster and sail boats bobbing on a gentle evening wind swell, birds chirping in the background as they settle to roost for the night, a pinkish setting-sun glow in the west, and a play of berries and ice cream on the palate. What would you call it?

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

One Pot Wonders

Ugh... Cooking for one again. I should just eat cereal. Or find a husband. Or join a cult. Or open a restaurant. I dunno, I can't decide.

The ingredients:

Boneless, skinless chicken thighs Whole tomatoes Tomato paste Pine nuts Black and green olives Garlic Vegetable stock Spaghetti

Cube the chicken and brown it in batches in some peanut oil and a little butter. Season generously with kosher salt and cracked pepper. Remove the chicken, soften some chopped garlic in the oil, then deglaze the pan with a little white wine. Add the stock, whole tomatoes, tomato paste, toasted pine nuts and the browned chicken.

Bring to a simmer, cover and cook for 30 minutes.

Look how rich the sauce is already getting. Add sliced olives, some dried herbs (basil, thyme, bay leaves, parsley), cover and cook for 20 more minutes or until tomatoes soften.

Add dry spaghetti, stirring frequently until the noodles become pliable, then cover and allow to simmer until pasta is al dente.

Serve with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and a bottle of Pinot Grigio to help you forget you're eating alone.

Thankfully, my room mate showed up just as I was browning the chicken and he accepted my offer of a free meal. "It has a real soothing flavor," he announced after the first bite. I didn't press him for clarification, I was just grateful for the company.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

It's the Little Things...

It was one of those weekends where even the simplest of pleasures evinced a feeling of contentment. I’m persuaded it had everything to do with the first warm spring weekend, although I'm sure the "urban shaman" featured on NPR's Weekend Edition (cultural elitist alert) would no doubt attribute my sunny disposition to a "balancing" effect brought on by the vernal equinox. Whatever. I'll leave that debate up to the experts, or the fools, possibly. All I know is, without examining it too closely, it was great to be alive in the Hamptons.

By nine-thirty Friday morning it was just warming up enough to dare opening up the house for the first time since last October. Every window that could be pried open admitted a brisk cross breeze through the first and second floors. Draperies billowed, magazine pages fluttered, anything not nailed down performed a Spring pirouette. It was lovely. Now who could harbor a niggardly spirit under such conditions, holistic rationalizations be damned!

When my absent Southampton host negotiated my winter caretaking services, I pledged to rekindle my dormant musical talents by learning a new piano piece on his beautiful Yamaha Conservatory grand. I played trombone in my high school marching and concert bands, but that was decades ago, and I haven't looked at sheet music since. Also, I play piano by ear and never bothered to learn the treble clef. Reading the Grand Staff then, borders on the ridiculous. Previously, my habit has been to learn, first, the left hand (easier) and then the right, eventually putting the two hands together. Piano teachers across the continents shudder at the thought of my unorthodox method, but it works for me. So, I've been muddling through the second movement of  Beethoven's piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Op. 57, "Appassionata". It's a sublime section in D-flat Major, with an easy chord progression, but all those 32nd notes late in the piece intimidate me into forgetting that fact. As of this past weekend though, I can pick my way competently through the first 36 bars. Maybe by Winter 2012 I'll own bragging rights to the entire work. However, my sense of accomplishment to date remains undiminished.

All the balmy weather unfailingly lead to olfactory-tinged ruminations on quartered whole chickens and un-husked ears of sweet corn roasting over red hot briquettes on the Weber.

I don't think corn has even been planted yet, and the grill is still buried in the garage somewhere, but those two hurdles did not necessarily preclude crisp-skinned chicken and corn on the menu. Least ways, not in these here parts.

And that led to a pleasantly surprising weekend discovery. The lord of my transient manor has saved every gadget his sainted mother ever stored in her 1960's kitchen. This woman must have been a formidable cook, or had an expertly equipped staff (she was an admiral's wife, after all), as there was nothing overlooked in her impressive galley inventory. Buried in an enormous chest-of-drawers in the basement was a classic rotary cheese grater. The kind now - sadly - you can only find as a cheap plastic knock-off. I was tickled to death. I couldn't wait to put this gem through its paces with fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano. It worked like a charm. I wondered aloud, to nobody in particular, why this wasn't the standard for cheese graters in America instead of those horrible, knuckle-shredding box thingies. Stupid. Capitalism, obviously, run amok. Now that he's checked off health care reform, maybe our Socialist President can put a stop to this culinary travesty of justice.

Vinegar Glazed Chicken and Beets - from Martha Stewart's "Living"

½-cup Balsamic vinegar ½-cup Sherry, or good quality red-wine vinegar 4 cloves garlic, minced 3 sprigs fresh rosemary, finely chopped 5 lbs bone-in chicken pieces 2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil ¾-cup chicken stock, plus extra Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Begin by marinating the vinegar, garlic and rosemary for up to 2 hours.

Preheat a large (14 inch) skillet over high heat and add two tablespoons of olive oil, or just enough to coat the bottom of your pan.

Rinse and pat dry chicken pieces with paper towels and season well with salt and pepper.

Place chicken, skin side down in the skillet. Do not over crowd the pan, cook in batches if necessary. You should hear an immediate sizzle as each piece hits the pan. Allow the chicken parts to cook, undisturbed, for a few minutes so that they develop a nice sear. Brown on all sides, about 10 minutes per batch. Remove browned pieces to a warm platter.

Add the chicken stock and deglaze the pan. Return the browned chicken pieces to the pan, lower the heat and simmer for about 15 minutes, or until the liquid reduces by one half.

Return the heat to high and add the vinegar marinade. Swirl around to incorporate with the chicken and broth. Reduce for about 10 minutes more.

Server immediately over polenta or egg noodles.

I knew anything this rich and tangy had to have a powerfully confident absorbing force, hence the polenta. I made mine with grated parmesan cheese and fresh sage leaves. It was perfect. On the side, my favorite vegetable.

Roasted Beets with Sage and Orange Glaze - from the NY Times

4 medium-sized beets 1½ Tbsp unsalted butter 1 tsp sugar ¼-cup freshly squeezed orange juice 1 Tbsp orange zest 4 fresh sage leaves, chopped Salt & pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375° F. Place beets on a pan and roast for about an hour, or until they are fork-tender. Let cool slightly, and then slip off their skins. Cut into strips about ½-inch thick and put in a mixing bowl.

Melt the butter and sugar in a small sauce pan over medium heat. Add the orange juice and reduce to a light glaze (should just coat a spoon). Add the zest and sage. Cook for another minute or two to heat through.

Pour the glaze over the beets, season with salt & pepper and toss to coat. Serve warm or at room temperature.

I sat at the dining table audibly vocalizing approval of my own handy work. It was an OMG moment. I should have shown more restraint, but just couldn't help myself.

Others might be relied upon to display sufficient humility in praising their own cooking, I essentially don't give a damn. I could be wrong; my taste buds could be totally out of whack, but I'm fairly confident that I'm a pretty good cook. Lately though, the dishes coming out of my Southampton kitchen have blown even me away. My only regret being you're not here to share in them and the pats on my back, as my arm is developing a cramp. But who knows, if you play your cards right...

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

An Exercise in Far Eastern Sensibilities

I almost broke down and ordered Chinese food tonight. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's not as if I'm on some sort of deprivation kick (although I freely admit to being a colossal food snob), it's just that it kills me to spend good money on bad take out. Even when I'm in absolutely no mood to cook, digging into the junk draw for the menus piled at the bottom of all the detritus we collect is an act of last resort. But the hankering for something Asian remained. What was in the cupboards?

Pasta in all shapes and sizes, sesame seeds, soy sauce, even the dregs of some peanut butter. The chill chest held a sad looking piece of ginger from god knows where, and frozen chicken breasts. The mind reeled.

Double Happiness Chicken Asian Noodles - by Blog O. Food

2 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves ⅛ cup sesame seeds ¼ cup peanut butter, I like chunky 2 garlic cloves, minced ½ Tbsp fresh ginger, minced 2½ Tbsp soy sauce 1 Tbsp rice vinegar ½ tsp hot sauce 1 Tbsp light brown sugar 8 oz Perciatelli* pasta ½ Tbsp Asian sesame oil ½ Tbsp peanut oil 2 green onions, thinly julienned ½ carrot, grated *Long strands of pasta. Fatter versions of spaghetti that have a hollow center running the length of the noodle.

Toast sesame seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat, tossing frequently, until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Reserve a half-tablespoon of sesame seeds in a small bowl.

Along with the peanut butter, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, vinegar, hot sauce and brown sugar, pour the remaining sesame seeds into the bowl of a food processor, set with a steel blade. Purée until smooth, scraping down the sides of the bowl once or twice.

With the machine running, drizzle in just enough hot water to form a creamy consistency to the sauce (a couple tablespoons). Set sauce aside.

Preheat the broiler on your oven, and place the broiler rack 6 inches away from the heat source. Heat the rack. Meanwhile, bring plenty of salted water to a boil in a heavy-bottomed stock pot.

Spray hot broiler rack with vegetable spray and set chicken breasts to broil until lightly browned on top, about 6 minutes. Carefully turn breasts with tongs and continue to broil until internal temperature reaches 160°, another 6-8 minutes. Transfer breasts to a cutting board, lightly tent and allow to rest. Shred chicken into bite-sized pieces.

While chicken rests, add noodles to boiling water and cook until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water until cool to the touch. Drain thoroughly, then pour into a large mixing bowl. Toss noodles with sesame and peanut oils to evenly coat. Add chicken, green onions, carrot and peanut sauce and toss to combine. Divide among soup bowls and sprinkle each with reserved sesame seeds and a little extra green onion for color. Enjoy with an ice cold Chinese or Japanese beer, or warm sake.

Again with the rinsed noodles, I know, I know!!! I've made sesame noodles several times now, and if you don't rinse the starch off the noodles after cooking, the next day's lunch is more of a gummy peanut butter paste than a pleasant reminder of last night's dinner. Ordering take out would most definitely be justified then. Also, most recipes call for a whole tablespoon of sesame oil for tossing with the noodles. I always think the dish tastes slightly burnt that way, so I cut the sesame with a little peanut oil and get, I think, just the right amount of toasty sesame flavor. Two breasts and a half-pound of noodles ought to serve 4 people.

Well, I saved about twelve dollars in food and delivery charges and can still look myself in the mirror. That made me doubly happy. I'm not judging anyone who picks up the phone or heads to the drive-thru instead of facing the dilemma of what to put on the table. There just may be an easy, tasty, money-saving alternative. I'm just sayin'!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Don't Let The Name Fool You

You Gonna Finish That? champion Muffy was heading eastward to the Island for the weekend, and in my fevered mind, everything had to be perfect. I spent hours staring at my computer monitor, combing the Food Network and Epicurious Dot Com for ideas. I ransacked my own library seeking inspiration. Cookbooks are still scattered about the apartment. But I caught the train to Southampton Thursday finally safe in the knowledge that I'd planned a menu sure to secure my rightful place in Miss Muffy's pantheon of noteworthy cooks. One night would include dishes from the adored and adorable Barefoot Contessa, and another night would feature someone less well known, but with plenty of comfort food street cred all her own. But more about that later.

The Contessa put out "Back to Basics - Fabulous Flavor from Simple Ingredients" last year, actually a pretty handy guide if not truly encyclopedic with "basics". But there are some wonderful recipes and one criticizes Ms. Garten at one's own peril, so...

I really did mull over Julia Child's Boeuf à la Bourguignonne, but having decided on steak for Saturday night, I thought beef two nights in a row might be overdoing it a bit. I learned later that Muffy had made beef stew a few nights previous. Whew! Ina had near-pornographic photos of pork tenderloin (been there, done that) and pot roast (we did that last winter), and my eye kept wandering back to a French trussed up chicken stew, chicken bouillabaisse. Very, very basic and just chocked full of flavor. Given the mid-January temps, I didn't think I could go too far wrong trusting my first instincts.

Did I say basic? I had to go to three different markets to find all Ina's ingredients, four if you count 7-Eleven upon discovering I forgot to buy butter. By the third stop, a decent little wine shop on Jobs Lane, I was more than a little irritated with the Barefoot Contessa, who took the brunt of my wrath.

"I hate Ina Garten," I exclaimed after greeting the counter clerk.

"Let me guess," she slyly replied. "Pernod."

Uncanny. Obviously, others had walked down this road before me. And with that I just had to laugh. I was immediately disarmed and had my good spirits restored. Bouillabaisse was gonna be just the right meal to start the weekend.

Chicken Bouillabaisse - adapted from Ina Garten

3 chicken leg/thigh pieces, separated Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 1 Tbsp minced fresh rosemary Extra virgin olive oil 1 large head garlic, separated into cloves and peeled 1 tsp saffron threads 1 tsp whole fennel seeds 1 can (15-ounce) tomato purée 1½ cups chicken stock 1 cup dry white wine 3 Tbsp Pernod 1lb small Yukon Gold  potatoes, quartered Crusty French bread, for serving

Pat the chicken dry with paper towels and season generously with salt, pepper and rosemary. Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat in a large Dutch oven and brown the chicken in batches. Transfer the browned chicken to a plate and set aside.

Lower heat to medium-low and add the garlic, saffron, fennel seed, tomato purée, chicken stock, wine, Pernod, 2 teaspoons of salt and 1 teaspoon of ground pepper to the pot. Stir and scrape up any browned bits on the bottom, and simmer for 30-40 minutes, until the garlic is quite tender, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 300° F.

Carefully pour the sauce into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Purée until smooth. Return sauce to the Dutch oven, add the potatoes and browned chicken with their juices. Stir carefully.

Cover the pot and bake for 60 to 75 minutes, just until the potatoes are tender and the chicken is done. Adjust the seasonings and serve hot with thick slices of crusty bread.

Holy crap, talk about flavor. It started, I think, with the browning of the chicken. The aroma filled the house, making everyone giddy with anticipation. The garlic, tomato and seasonings were perfect. Yes, even the Pernod! Just-tender pieces of potato, juicy, succulent dark meat. Comfort food does not satisfactorily convey the gratifying feeling experienced afterwards. Maybe there should be a new category: comfort food, and then ecstasy food.

I always have a hard time coming up with an agreeable side dish when preparing stews. Salads seem so pedestrian and more starches like rice or noodles strike one as needlessly superfluous. Naturally, the Contessa had two cents to add.

Pan-roasted root vegetables - from Back to Basics

4 Tbsp (½ stick) unsalted butter 1 white turnip, unpeeled and 1-inch diced 2 carrots, 1-inch diced 2 small parsnips, peeled and 1-inch diced ½ celery root, peeled and 1-inch diced 4 fresh thyme sprigs 1½ tsp kosher salt ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper 2 celery ribs, 1-inch diced Ina called for Brussels sprouts, but Muffy hates them, so they were out!

Melt the butter in a large (12-inch) sauté pan that has a tight-fitting lid.

When the butter is melted, add the turnip, carrots, parsnips, celery root, thyme, salt and pepper, and toss with the butter. Cover the pan and cook over low heat for 10 minutes.

Add the celery and stir the vegetables. Cover the pan again and continue to cook for another 5 minutes, until all the vegetables are tender. If they are too dry, add a few tablespoons of water.

Taste for seasonings and serve hot.

Root vegetables and bouillabaisse are the Vulcan Mind Meld of dinner combinations. All that celery flavor and the hint of thyme in the vegetables was the perfect foil for the garlic-y power of the stew.

Well, the crowd was on its feet between the main course and dessert. There was talk of the next day's meal even before the plates had been cleared. I must admit to being not a little impressed myself, and looking forward to whatever was gonna come out of the kitchen next. But like I said earlier, more about that later!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food