Kale Salad with Lemon Tahini Dressing

When I revisit a restaurant, I typically do a good job of not ordering something I’ve already had or, at the very least, not what I had the last time I was there.  But I think I may be physically incapable of sitting down at Northern Spy Food Co. in the East Village for brunch and not ordering the kale salad with baked eggs. 

Yeah, I know, big fucking deal, it’s just a kale salad, and kale salads are pretty fucking ubiquitous at this point, but Northern Spy’s is an exemplary expression of the form.  It’s a modest number, with just a few simple ingredients that work incredibly well together.  The kale is well tenderized but nowhere near limp, the hunks of squash are soft and yielding. The roasted almonds provide some crunch while the cheddar, with a great sharpness, keeps things interesting. Pecorino finely grated atop the whole mess adds some salinity, and once pricked, the yolks of those eggs coat everything in their radness.

The day after my last visit to the restaurant, I found myself craving that damned salad.  So instead of going back there like a loser, I made one for myself. And then I made it again the next day.  And I have eaten some variation of it nearly every day since.  What precisely I throw in there depends on what I have in my fridge, what I might have found at the farmer’s market that day and generally how lazy I am feeling.

Though I started out just making the salads as I ate them, it didn’t take me long to realize that I’d be doing myself a favor by just making one big-ass salad in the beginning of the week and portioning it out to eat as I pleased without having to bother with all the chopping each time.  That’s the lovely thing about kale, which I’ve expounded upon before: unlike other salad greens, kale won’t turn into a disgusting, soggy mess if it sits dressed in the fridge for a couple of days.  Its hardiness means that it actually benefits from that time, and keeping it raw preserves all those good dark leafy green things that made people assume that kale was gross for so long.

My most recent composition was quite similar to Northern Spy’s. I managed to actually turn on the oven on a weeknight and roasted up some parsnips and a sweet potato, and used the same Cabot clothbound cheddar that they use over on East 12^th street. The similarities ended after the cheese and roasted root vegetables, though.  For one, I am not sure what they use to dress their salad over at Northern Spy; I am typically too busy enjoying the shit out of it to try and figure that out (maybe next time), and I didn’t have any non-Tamari almonds, so I toasted up some walnuts. And instead of baking the eggs, I opted to baste mine to ensure that as much of the yolk as possible was left free to run all over my salad.  Suffice it to say, I ate this salad four fucking times this week.

Winter Kale Salad with Lemon Tahini Dressing

Makes 4 Servings

I don't know why I'm calling this a winter salad.  I guess because there's root vegetables and walnuts and shit in there.  Anyway, I like lacinato (also known as dinosaur or black) kale for this salad. It’s tenderer than green kale, and I love the characteristic bumps in the leaves.  

When basting eggs, you can add either more fat (oil, lard, butter) to the pan, but I opt for water to keep it healthier. I prefer basting to sunny-side up, as I like the top of my eggs to be a little bit cooked, but want my yolks to be perfectly runny.  That said, cook your eggs however you please, but know that the runny yolk adds a great deal to the finished product.

Salad

1 head lacinato kale, washed, spun and thinly chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 sweet potato, cut into ½” dice

1 large or two medium parsnips, cut into ½” dice

¼ cup walnuts, toasted and chopped

4 ounces good-quality cheddar (I used Cabot clothbound), crumbled / chopped into small pieces

4 eggs

Pecorino Romano cheese, to taste

Dressing

2 tablespoons tahini

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons water

1 garlic clove, minced and smashed into a paste

Salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.  Toss the diced sweet potato and parsnip with a tablespoon of olive oil, salt and pepper, spread out in a single layer on a baking sheet, and roast in the oven for about 25 minutes, checking every little while to make sure they’re not burning and tossing them around as necessary.  Remove from the oven and set aside to cool.

While the vegetables are in the oven, prep the kale.  Remove the leaves from the ribs (this can be easily done by pinching the base of the rib and moving your fingers up the rib, removing the leaves as you go).  Wash and dry the leaves (I do this in my salad spinner and then prep the salad in the bowl of the spinner so as not to dirty another dish). Stack the leaves, roll into tight cigars and slice into ½” ribbons.  Place the ribbons of kale in large bowl and add the tablespoon of olive oil and a pinch of salt, massaging the oil into the greens with your hands to help tenderize them.  Set kale aside.

Make the dressing.  Combine the tahini, lemon juice and garlic.  While whisking the mixture, slowly add in the olive oil.  Thin the dressing out with water, adding it one tablespoon at a time to ensure you don’t thin it out too much.  Add salt and pepper and adjust seasoning and oil levels to taste.

Once the sweet potato and parsnip have cooled, add them to the kale, along with the cheddar and chopped walnuts.  Pour the dressing over the salad and toss to combine (using your hands may be easiest, so don’t be afraid to get them a little dirty).  Divide the salad among four plates.

Heat a skillet over medium-high heat.  Coat the bottom of the skillet with non-stick spray, oil or butter.  Crack the eggs into the pan and allow the whites to set a bit.  Add a good glug of water and put a lid on the pan to help cook the tops of the eggs.  Once the yolks are cooked to your desired doneness, remove the eggs, blot the bottom with paper towels and place one egg atop each of the four salads. 

Finish the salad with a healthy shower of grated pecorino, a drizzle of good olive oil and salt and pepper to taste.  Now go enjoy the shit out of it.

Valentine's Day Dinner: Kale Caesar

I took charge of Valentine’s Day dinner this year.  Sure, we could have gone out, feasted on an overpriced, underwhelming prix fixe menu, crushed between loads of other amorous patrons, but why would I pass up the opportunity to cook an awesome meal to share with the person I love?  It’s so much more personal, so much more intimate, so much more special when you have personally orchestrated a really special evening for an immeasurably special person.  An opportunity to create a memory that we can share down the road, which seems only fair given the number of memories Robbie has bestowed upon me (and the amount of my crazy he's put up with). 

I haven’t been cooking (either for me, or him, or both or us) nearly as much as I’d like to lately, so I took the holiday as an excuse and ran with it, cooking up a storm and, somehow, not being a complete, frazzled mess of a human being when it was actually time to sit down and eat.  Some good advance planning on my part led to a well-orchestrated and well-timed meal that, if I may indulge myself for a moment, was pretty bad ass. 

To say that I like a good kale salad is a vast understatement.  I fucking love a good kale salad.  It’s easy, it’s healthy, it’s versatile and it’s delicious – what’s not to like?  While I typically just massage a bit of lemon and oil into it and let it sit for a few minutes before tacking some other stuff on top, Valentine’s day calls for something a bit more indulgent.  I find Caesar salads to typically be imbalanced; the dressing far too heavy and intense for the delicate romaine beneath.  But kale is a perfect vehicle – it’s heartiness and bite allow it to withstand the onslaught of yolk and garlic, of anchovy and oil.  Frank, a great Italian standby in my neighborhood, makes a fantastic, simple black kale Caesar, but I rarely order it, since I know exactly what goes into Caesar dressing, and despite its virtuous base, it’s not exactly health food.  But this seemed like a great opportunity to recreate it, and get the meal off to an arguably healthy start. 

I searched the interwebs for kale Caesar recipes, finding that, while the ingredients themselves don’t vary too much, the proportions vary widely.  Some dressings call for up to one and a half cups of olive oil, albeit for more salad than I was planning on serving.  That just seemed egregious to me, so I followed a far more wholesome-sounding lead, and went with a recipe I found on Serious Eats.  I made the entire dressing recipe, though used less kale than called for since we were only two (I anticipated leftovers), played around (very) slightly with proportions, and dressed it relatively lightly.  This recipe did not include croutons, but I find them to be an integral aspect of a Caesar, so I threw some well-oiled bread chunks into the oven while I whizzed together the dressing, which came together in minutes.  It was a smart choice for a first course, since I was able to throw it together completely before well in advance of the more complicated main course (which I'll get to in another post). Which is only another reason why kale salads should be embraced: they don’t need to be dressed immediately before serving.  The dressing tenderizes the kale and makes it more palatable, not to mention easier to chew and digest.  Whereas a mixed green salad, for instance, would be a soggy, drippy, inedible mess after a couple of days in the fridge, a kale salad persists, and is no less delicious for it. 

Kale Caesar Salad

Adapted, slightly, from here

Makes 2 generous first-course servings, with leftovers (or, I suppose, three first-course servings)

About 5 one-inch thick slices of bread, preferably slightly stale (I used a European country boule), cut into one inch-ish chunks

1 tablespoon olive oil

Salt to taste

7 ounces kale

2 medium cloves garlic

Kosher salt

2 anchovy fillets, minced (about 1 teaspoon)

1 large egg yolk

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice,
more to taste

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese,
more for garnish

Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Make the croutons:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Place the bread chunks into a bowl large enough to accommodate them, and pour the olive oil over the bread.  Toss the bread to cover with oil, and salt liberally (or to taste).  Spread the bread onto lightly greased or sprayed baking sheet and toast in the oven for 10 minutes, keeping an eye out and shaking the pan as necessary to ensure that they don’t burn.  Remove and allow to cool to room temperature.

Prepare the kale:

Remove the large, thick stems from the center of the kale leaves (easy way to do this is to hold the stalk between your thumb and forefinger and slide your fingers up the stalk, so that the leaves peel away).  If using black kale (also called lacinato or dinosaur kale), you can tear the kale into bite-sized pieces.  If using curly kale or if your kale has a less tender leaf, cut the kale into thin strips by stacking the leaves on top of one another, rolling them tightly, and cutting crosswise.  Place the kale into a large bowl and set aside while you make the dressing.

Make the dressing:

Chop the garlic, sprinkle it with a good pinch of kosher salt, and smash it into a paste with the side of a chef’s knife.  Transfer the paste to a small bowl and add the anchovies (which I also like to smash into a paste before adding to the bowl), the egg yolk, lemon juice and mustard.  Whisk to combine.  Very, VERY slowly, whisking constantly, add the olive oil - first drop by drop, and increasing to a slow stream once the dressing has been emulsified.  Taste and add more Dijon or lemon juice as desired (I added a good amount of Dijon, which I reflected in the above measurements, though I’d venture to say I added more than an additional half teaspoon; I added more lemon as well).

Dress the salad:

Add a few tablespoons of the dressing to the kale bowl, and toss with your hands to coat, massaging the dressing into the leaves a bit.  Add the parmigiano cheese and toss to distribute evenly.  Allow the salad to rest for a few minutes, taste and add more dressing or salt as desired.  Once the salad is dressed to your liking, set it aside until it’s time to serve.  When ready to serve, toss in the croutons (you can add them earlier if you’d like – they won’t get too soggy, but for max crunchiness add them just before plating).  Garnish with a bit more cheese and some fresh ground pepper.  

Saturday Night Improv

Be you a romantic or not, and regardless of your "relationship status," (for lack of a better term), I think we can all agree that Valentine's day is a bit of a sham. Why should we wait for a designated day to express our love, or to tell those around us how much we care? [Also, why should we also post about our Valentine's Day meals any time close to actual Valentine's day? Mm hmm, yea...]

Nowhere is this commercialized aspect of Valentine's Day more evident than in restaurants. No matter where you're dining on this certain evening, you're going to be elbow-to-elbow with a bunch of people that don't really have any place in your relationship, and you're going to be rushed out so that your table can be turned for the next happy couple. Prix fixe menus filled with "aphrodisiacs," but what's more aphrodisiacal than just being with the one you love, tasting ingredients, creating something beautiful to share in. A meal cooked at home, with your other half, leaves a much better taste in your mouth than something carelessly thrust at you by a chef with no connection to your togetherness. And hey, we all know that a dish cooked with love just tastes that much better.

So there you have it - I am not one for Valentine's days out, a matter on which I've preached before. I am, however, one for using the holiday as an excuse to create a meal more extravagant, time consuming and complex than I would on any other Saturday night. More willing to splurge for wonderful ingredients, since the end result is still going to be cheaper, more delicious, and served in a much more inviting environment than any restaurant could manufacture.

This Valentine's day was a seafood-laden one. The second course had been planned for a little bit, and I will get back to that one a bit later. The first course was to be more of an improvisational affair. We had initially planned on some foie gras, simply seared and served with a citrusy sauce to cut the richness. However, foie gras turned out to be a bit difficult to procure on short notice, so scallops it would be, served with a salad of sorts. Andrew was in charge of the shopping, and he arrived at my apartment holding beautiful, plump sea scallops, arugula and a bag of grapes. It was time to play!

I wasn't really sure where I was going with this when I started, but I must say that it turned out quite good. Since I was just throwing things in randomly, I don't have much of a recipe, but clearly this is a dish that is open to interpretation and infinite variations. What started with scallops, arugula and grapes turned into pan-seared scallops served atop a baby arugula salad with roasted grapes and a warm lemon vinaigrette. And it was wonderful - rich and sweet from the grapes and scallops, which had achieved a wonderful caramelization from the scorching hot pan. This sweetness played wonderfully off of the tangy lemon vinaigrette, the acidity, which had been tamed by the butter added to the warm vinaigrette, cut the sweetness of the grapes.

Seared Scalloped and Arugula Salad with Roasted Grapes in a Warm Lemon VInaigrette

I started by halving about a cup of grapes, but you might want to use less for two servings - we had a LOT of grapes in our salad. The choice between red and green grapes is totally up to you - we had green, so we used green, and I really liked the tart bite they imparted. In a skillet over medium heat, I heated a bit less than a tablespoon of butter until the foam subsided. I placed the grapes, cut side down, into the pan and let them cook until they softened a bit and started to brown and caramelize a little, at which point I added a finely minced shallot and about a half-teaspoon or so of crushed, dried thyme to the pan and gave it a good stir around to make sure that the shallot didn't brown.

Now this is where I get a bit foggy on details; I think that I added the juice of one lemon, some red wine vinegar, and a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. This was still a bit acidic, so I cut another tablespoon or so of butter into small cubes and added them bit by bit until the dressing was a bit richer and less intensely acidic. I poured the mellowed-out vinaigrette over the washed and dried arugula, tossing to coat (this actually produced a bit more dressing than we needed, so don't be tempted to pour the entire skillet-full on the salad at once). Divide the salad among plates. The lesson here really, is just to play with it until you're happy with it; until it suits your tastes. After all, you're cooking for yourself.

For the Scallops
6 large sea scallops, rinsed and patted dry
1-2 Tablespoons of olive oil
Salt and Pepper

Remove the tough outer muscle from the scallops, rinse and pat dry. This is really important, since a dry scallop is the only way you're going to get a nice sear. So make sure you're patting those scallops really well. Season both sides of the scallops with salt and pepper.

Heat a heavy skillet over medium-high heat for a couple of minutes, and then add the olive oil. Heat the oil until very hot. To test the oil, flick a little bit of water into the pan, if it sizzles and jumps around, then the oil is ready. Place the scallops into the hot oil, making sure not to crowd the pan, since overcrowding will cause your scallops to be steamed. Sear the scallops for two minutes on the first side - if you're unsure whether it's going to be ready, give it a little nudge with your tongs or spatula; if it moves easily, then it's done. Flip the scallops and sear for another minute on the opposite side. Remove from the heat and place an equal amount of scallops atop each salad plate.

I apologize for the blackberry-camera quality pictures, my camera is kaput and I'm making due with what I can, and I'm pretty sure you can deal. MmmK, thanks, bye.

Beeting the Heat

Hello? Anyone there? The bar is (mercifully) over, I have moved out of Chicago, and I am back! For my first post back, I wanted to share with you a recipe that was a constant in my kitchen for a decent portion of the last two months.



There are some things that we eat just because they're good for us. There are things that we eat in spite of the fact that they're, um, not as good for us. Then there are things that fall graciously into both categories, allowing us to eat what we truly enjoy, while reducing the guilt factor by just so happening to be something good for you. For me, beets are one of those generous foods - they allow me to enjoy what I'm eating knowing that I'm doing both my palette and my body a great favor. Not-so-recently there was a post on the NY Times Health Blog of the 11 healthiest foods out there that they presumptuously concluded you and I are not eating, and beets were number one. However, the article noted that cooking them tempts out all the antioxidants and nutrients that make them oh-so-good for you.

I don't know about all of you, but not until recently did I even think of eating a beet uncooked. I love beets, more perhaps than most normal people do, but I had always eaten them cooked. It seemed to be such a rough, hulking root that trying to bite into it without cooking would greatly reduce the enjoyment gained from eating it. However, grating the beets provides an excellent solution to this problem. Fine shreds of beets have a wonderfully inviting crunch and pleasant texture, and just taste that much better knowing how much better it is for you.

The following recipe is not as much of a recipe as it is a jumble of delicious things that become only more delicious when thrown haphazardly together and eaten straight out of the mixing bowl, unless - I guess - you wish to share. I found it in Mark Bittman's list of 101 picnic ideas that was published in the Times dining section earlier this summer. Since everything could be made in under 20 minutes it seemed like the natural place for me to turn while studying for the bar. I unfortunately did not have a chance to get to any other ideas on the list*, but this salad is colorful, refreshing, fresh and healthy - everything a summer salad should be.



I should warn, however, that if you choose to eat this as your main course, there is a slight possibility it will make you pee magenta. This happened to me, and it scared the shit out of me, because, you know - who pees magenta? Really? Once I made the beet-magenta pee connection, I did some internet research and discovered that eating beets causes this same reaction in 14% of the population, and is purportedly a sign of an iron-deficient diet. I'm sticking with the fact that only 14% of the population is eating enough beets to have this reaction. I, for one, am proud to call myself a magenta-peeing beet-eater. I am curious as to whether this actually happens to other people, so if you try this salad leave a comment letting me know!

* Note: this salad is, in fact, number ONE on the list of 101 picnic ideas, so some might say that I didn't get anywhere on the list. Some.



Raw Beet Salad with Pistachios and Goat Cheese

These measurements are all approximate. I just added until i liked the way it tasted, which is easy to do when dealing with a salad. I've made this with both soft goat cheese and semi-soft, and both work equally well. I like to add a bit more cheese atop the bowl just so that there is something in there that is not dyed magenta.

This took me just about 20 minutes to make, but will take no more than 5 minutes if made with a food processor. If you're grating by hand, do yourself a favor and wear dark clothes; that garnet-toned juice, gorgeous as it may be, is not as gorgeous when forever stained on your favorite t-shirt.

2-3 medium-sized beets, peeled
Zest of one-half of an orange
Juice of one-half to one orange (depending on your taste and the size of your beets)
1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil
1-2 ounces of goat cheese
1/4-1/2 cup of pistachios, roughly chopped
2-3 tablespoons chopped parsley

Grate beets either with a box grater or in the food processor, being sure to capture all the juice. Add the orange zest, orange juice and olive oil, adjusting to taste.

Add the chopped pistachios and parsley and mix to combine. Crumble the goat cheese over the beets and gently mix to distribute. Sprinkle with some sea salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste, dig in, and enjoy.

A Full Embrace

When I get something in my head, it often takes a while for me to get it out. I mean hellER, I have been saying the same four lines uttered by Keasha of Shot at Love almost-fame for the majority of the last week, thanks to my friend DSchec.

A couple of weeks before that, I was playing the freecreditreport.com song on loop in my head, sometimes singing out loud, to the displeasure of pretty much everyone with whom I came into contact.

I know, I know, you’re saying, “hey girl heyyy, those are not the most “cultured” of things to have stuck in your head,” but I really have no control over what my brain decides it likes now, do I? Right. Didn’t think so.

When the something in my head is food, it is damn near impossible to get it out unless I eat or make that something. A couple of months ago I had the most unavoidable craving for grilled cheese.

I think “craving” might be the wrong word; preoccupation is much more like it.

I couldn’t move on from grilled cheese until I ate it many, many times. I had tried avoiding it, since it’s not really the healthiest thing in the world; telling myself that I didn’t actually want a grilled cheese sandwich. However, I underestimated the power melty, gooey cheese had over me. I finally gave in, and I haven’t ever looked back. Now when a certain food item is stuck in my head, I do my best to appease my brain as quickly as possible. I can’t ignore it and try to will it to go away, I must embrace it and acknowledge its unfailing power over me until I do so. So last week, when I could not get the idea out of my head that there was nothing better on this earth than a crunchy, chewy wheat berry, I knew what had to be done.

I first had wheat berries not that long ago, to be honest, maybe a year or so ago. I got a sudden urge for them recently and have been searching grocery stores for them. I finally found them sold in bulk at Whole Foods, for a rather cheap sum. The problem with wheat berries is that they take quite a while to cook. Some sources call for wheat berries to be soaked overnight, which cuts down a bit on the cooking time and allows the body to better digest them. I know my body likes a good challenge, so I just rinsed the wheat and got down to business.

Since the wheat takes so long to cook, I decided that I would make enough to have a warm salad that night and save some to make a cold salad later on, knowing full well that this preoccupation was not going to be felled by a mere salad. I bought a nice hunk of goat’s milk feta while I was at Whole Foods and went home on a mission. Since I bought bulk, my wheat berries didn’t come with instructions, so I came home and Googled “how to cook wheat berries.”



A constant theme was about three cups of liquid per cup of wheat berries, so that is what I did. Some recipes said 2-2 ½ cups, but I figured if I was draining and rinsing anyway as long as they were cooked properly it didn’t matter if there was some water that wasn’t absorbed. Better to have too much than too little, as long as I paid attention to make sure they weren’t getting overcooked. I brought the water up to a boil, threw in some olive oil and the wheat berries, lowered to a simmer and cooked, covered over low heat for about 75 minutes. Cooking time can be as much as 90 minutes, so be patient. When they’re cooked to your liking, drain in a colander and rinse with warm water. This will yield two cups of cooked wheat berries.


Warm Wheat Berry Salad with Shrimp and Feta

1 cup cooked wheat berries
1 tablespoon
6-8 shrimp, peeled and deveined
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1/8 – ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes
¼ cup cherry tomatoes, halved*
1-2 ounces of goat’s milk feta cheese, cut into small cubes**
About ten small olives, pitted and quartered
Olive oil
Lemon Juice

Allow the wheat berries to cool slightly. While those are cooling, heat the butter in a medium skillet and add the thyme and red pepper flakes. Add the garlic, sautéing until fragrant. Add the shrimp to the pan and sauté until just opaque. Remove from the heat. I cut my shrimp into bite-size portions, since I wanted to be able to get multiple things on the fork at once and didn’t want to have to futz around with a knife.

Mix the wheat berries, shrimp, tomatoes and olives. Add a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice and mix to combine. Add salt and pepper and adjust any seasonings, oil or juice to your taste. Add the feta cheese and enjoy!

*In retrospect, I should have roasted these tomatoes. They would have added more sweetness to the dish had they been roasted. In order to do this, place the cherry tomatoes on a foil-lined baking sheet and place in a 375 degree oven (a toaster oven works perfectly fine too) until they pop. Delicious.

**Obviously any feta cheese would be delicious, as would any goat cheese, really. I like the goat’s milk feta because it has a firmer texture but still maintains the tang of goat cheese.



Since I know myself so well, within a couple of days I was clamoring for more wheat berries. What can I say, there’s just something about that nutty chewiness that I adore - it’s just so wholesome. So a couple of days later I threw the rest of the wheat berries together with some more tomatoes, feta, olives and sautéed zucchini. I tossed some chopped shallot, red wine vinegar, a little bit of honey and the zest and juice of one Meyer lemon into a blender, set it awhirl and drizzled some olive oil in through the cap while the blender was going in order for the vinaigrette to emulsify. I topped it all with some freshly chopped mint and I had another meal that, while different from the first salad I made, was similar in all the right ways.