Time for Soup

Well, after a couple of days of Florida weather (84? In San Francisco?), we're back to normal: cold and clammy. And that can mean only one thing: Soup!

Dear Love at First Bite:

I hope I didn't hear you say "soup." Who on Earth has time to make soup? Where do you find time to do all this cooking? I can barely keep up.

Take-Out Tammy

Dear Tammy:

First things first: No one keeps up. It's a myth.

Second, here is my secret (Close the door.): Extra time is delivered to my house one night a week and also on the weekend.

Don't tell anyone.

It's easy to think there's not enough time these days. I remember talking to a friend about how it was always a struggle to get everything done Friday afternoon to get to temple on time. (Later, I stopped worrying about it and considered it instead a public service: If I ever arrived at temple on time, the rabbi would fall off the bima.)

My friend said gently, "Laynie, I think you need to start earlier."

And so it is with cooking. Most recipes have a few ingredients in them, and those ingredients need to be measured, chopped, diced, minced. And it's later than you expected, and you need to eat something, and the heck with it. Peanut butter or take-out.

So eat the peanut butter or take-out. And then reach for one of the recipes you want to try and pull out the cutting board. Chop. Dice. Mince. And measure. And take some small jars or plastic containers (you can get tiny containers with lids at Costco [just be sure to re-use them] or those little porcelain saucers in Chinatown), measure the amount of each ingredient you need for that recipe, put a date on the containers, and sit them in the refrigerator.

The next day: Presto! All you need to do is assemble and cook the dish, then pat yourself on the back or graciously accept the compliments for your creation.

Which might be this very soup.

"Fish Soup from Tunaco":
(From Barbara Karoff's South American Cooking, I adapted it to three servings from the original six.):

1 lb. bass, cod, snapper, or other firm white fish
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Salt to taste
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
1-1/2-2 jalapeño or serrano chiles, seeded and chopped
3 tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and chopped
2 cups water or stock
1 cup coconut milk
Chopped cilantro

Cut the fish into bite-sized pieces. Sprinkle them with lemon juice and salt and set aside. In a soup pot, sauté the onions in olive oil until they are soft. Add the chilies and tomatoes and cook over low heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the water or stock and the fish and simmer gently until the fish is almost done. Take care not to overcook. Add the coconut milk and let the soup come just to the boil. Serve immediately, topped with chopped cilantro.

Time-saving tip: While you're squeezing the lemon for the juice in this recipe, make extra and put the lemon juice in a glass jar with a date on it. It'll be ready for the broccoli-asparagus stem salad or the lentil-chard soup coming up shortly. Same thing for the onion and when you have a recipe that calls for minced garlic. If a restaurant prepared every ingredient from scratch for each dish, the patrons would starve and the joint would go out of business in a New York minute.

©2009, 2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.

Doughnuts and Berries

Well, Bob's Donuts has done it again.

True, I had a piece of walnut bread not long after sundown--two pieces actually: one by itself, just to taste B-R-E-A-D after seven days, and the other, smothered with peanut butter because peanut butter on matzo doesn't work for me. (Almond butter, yes; peanut butter, no. Go figure.) But the real, official ending to Passover came when I moseyed over to Bob's and took the first bite of a glazed buttermilk doughnut that had come out minutes earlier, followed by an old-fashioned doughnut I literally watched the guy pull out of the fryer. If you listen closely, you just might be able to hear the sound of my arteries hardening.

My father, rest in peace, was a radiologist, and from him I inherited two things: medical handwriting and an affection for sweets. I loved helping him file X-ray films at the office. They were huge and wobbly then, and I soon learned it might be better to avoid having your name start with "M" or "S" because there were so many people in the same condition.

Dad would say he was going out for a minute and you knew he was back when the most heavenly smell wafted through the office as he strode into the kitchen, probably whistling, carrying a box of doughnuts fresh from Canelli's and still warm.

Among my favorites was one we called the "Persian." From the descriptions I've read recently it sounds more like a "Pershing." Out here they're called cinnamon rolls, and Bob's are the closest to Canelli's I have found. Unfortunately, cinnamon rolls are made at 1:30 in the morning and since I'm usually chatting with the Sandman at that time I buy them out of the case and heat them up in the oven.

Albion strawberries from Yerena Farms were a big hit at my French group today, especially when I told them the farmer's name was Apollinaire (Poli, for short). Try not to eat the whole basket at one sitting or, if you can't resist, buy an extra basket for this salad:

Strawberry-Chicory Salad with Red Wine Vinaigrette:

For the salad:

1 basket of strawberries
Mixture of chicories: radicchio, endive, etc.
2-3 leaves of mustard greens

For the dressing:

5T extra virgin olive oil or walnut oil or half of each
2T good red wine vinegar*
Smidgen of dijon mustard
Pinch kosher salt or sea salt
Pinch coarsely-ground black pepper

Rinse and drain the greens; tear into pieces. Rinse and slice the strawberries. Whisk the oil(s), vinegar and mustard together with salt and pepper, add the salad and toss. Now add the strawberries, toss again, and serve.

*Most of the red wine vinegar you find at the store is best left there. Kimberley Cabernet Sauvignon vinegar is delicious. I recommend this vinegar so often I should have stock in the company. Yes, it's $5 or 6 a bottle instead of $2 or 3, but a) one taste of it and you'll never go back; b) that's just one less mocha wah-wah latte a month. And the vinegar will last you more than a month--unless you take to drinking it by the glass, in which case just drink twice as much oil, eat some lettuce, and call yourself a salad.

©2009, 2011, 2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.

Fraternal Twins

Well, just when you thought you'd managed to avoid science projects in the refrigerator, surprise! That chicken is not going to make it. But wait! There's broccoli. And arugula.

And as you're chopping the broccoli stalks, you remember one of the asparagus vendors at the market who, when you said you always went for the skinnier asparagus because the bottoms weren't so woody, asked if you didn't peel the bottoms.

No, you said. You didn't add that you usually ate the top part of the bottom stem raw while the rest of it was steaming but still ended up tossing a lot of those stems and thinking, "What a waste."

Fast forward to the moment after the chicken has officially bitten the dust. You're chopping broccoli stalks. You're not even thinking about asparagus--skinny, fat (excuse me, "jumbo"), or otherwise.

And then it happens. You think of another object that looks a bit like this broccoli stalk. Yes! It is the asparagus stem.

Broccoli Salad with Arugula and Asparagus Stems in Lemon-Walnut Vinaigrette:

For the salad:

1 large head or three to four small heads of broccoli
Large handful arugula (or arugula rabe)
Bottom stems of one bunch of jumbo asparagus
2-3 tablespoons walnuts

For the dressing:

2T olive oil
2T walnut oil
2T balsamic vinegar*
Zest of one lemon
Pinch sea salt or kosher salt
Pinch medium-grind black pepper

Rinse arugula (or rabe) and drain; tear into small pieces. Break off broccoli florets from stalk(s). Peel stalk(s) and chop into small pieces. Remove very bottom of aparagus stems; slice stems into 1/2 inch circles. Peel them, if you wish. Steam broccoli and asparagus stems.

Dry-roast walnuts in a skillet or on a baking sheet at 400° for 5 minutes or so. (Keep an eye on the walnuts; they should be just slightly darkened.)

Combine oils and vinegar with lemon zest, salt, and pepper. Toss salad with dressing, add walnuts, toss again and serve.

*Real balsamic, not the fake kind in the store. V. G. Buck makes a great balsamic vinegar and a white balsamic vinegar as well, which is very good with fish.

©2009, 2014 Laynie Tzena.

New Food, Part Two

The first time I tasted kale was at dinner at Chris and Nancy's house. It might as well have landed on the plate from outer space: a multi-layered green object with curling leaves. In-ter-es-ting. I believe someone also told me it was good for me.*

"Thanks," I said.

Who could tell that kale would become one of my favorite vegetables? Beautiful dark green lacinato with a raised surface like the relief maps in sixth grade. Russian kale, which looks like a little tree (including one with a purple center I just saw at Happy Boy Farms the other day, so gorgeous I had to take it home with me).

The market has been full of rabe lately, too--not just broccoli rabe, but tatsoi, bok choy, arugula rabe. The broccoli rabe made its way into this salad:

Carrot-Kale-Rabe in Avocado Vinaigrette
with Cilantro, Cumin, and Lime**

For the salad:

1 bunch young kale (without large ribs)
Large handful broccoli rabe
2 carrots (white and yellow are especially pretty)

For the dressing:

2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon medium-grind black pepper
2 tablespoons brown rice vinegar
2 tablespoons lime juice with lime zest
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
½ avocado

Place all ingredients except the oil in a blender, puree until smooth. With blender on puree slowly add oil until combined. Taste and correct seasonings.

Wash and drain greens and tear into pieces--or, if you want to be fancy about it, slice into large rectangles. Cut carrots into 1/4 inch half-moons and steam.

Combine salad with half the dressing. Add more dressing as needed.

The dressing is quite thick and also works beautifully as a dip for steamed artichokes or asparagus.

*True. Loaded with nutrients. But don't let that stop you.

**This all began with a delicious kale salad with avocado vinaigrette I tasted at Whole Foods. I found a wonderful recipe created by chef Matthew Pneuman online: http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/recipe_cilantrocumin.htm., which I then adapted since a) I wanted to use the avocados from Brokaw Farms I had on hand, rather than avocado oil; b) A lovely brown rice vinegar has been calling to me from my counter while I've reached past it for the red wine or balsamic; and c) I have yet to develop an affection for white pepper.

©2009, 2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.

Just a Little

So let's talk about matzo.

Do I love matzo? Not especially. Although I do love egg matzo and onion matzo.

But the plain variety? Not unless it's under some charoset. I am not a huge fan of matzo brei.* I know it's traditional. So are corsets.

Still, remember the following:

a) You've eaten worse. I was once at a friend's house and she served aduki bean and miso soup. I later came to love miso soup, but at the time I said, "I am eating this because you are my friend."

b) You only have to do it for a week.

and perhaps most importantly,

c) People! Why do you think those perforations are there? Have a tiny piece. Put John Lagier's amazing almond butter on it.

After that piece, break off another and put this on it:

Apple-Almond-Miso Spread (adapted from Cookin' Healthy
with One Foot Out the Door, by Polly Pitchford and Delia Quigley):

4 parts apple butter (I like Eden, which is just apples)
2 parts roasted almond butter (Lagier, if you can get it; Massa Organics is also great)
1 part miso (During Pesach, use brown rice miso or white rice miso)

Blend and add water to taste. Keeps well in the refrigerator for about a week.

Also, nowhere in the Haggadah does it say you may not eat scrambled eggs with green garlic and basil, with asparagus and brown rice or sweet potatoes on the side. So I hope that wasn't more kvetching about breakfast I just heard.

*I had a conversion experience at the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco, assisted by Frank London and Lorin Sklamberg of the (fabulous) Klezmatics, along with their esteemed colleague (and world-class singer and storyteller) the late, lamented Adrienne Cooper, during their “Esn: A Shabbat Concert with Cooking" show on February 11, 2011. Here's what I remember of that fateful night:

They needed a matzo brei taster.
I raised my hand.

And children, that was all it took. Frank's was savory, and yummy. Lorin's was light and fluffy, like an omelette. Also divine. And Adrienne's had a wonderful fruit compote that was out-of-this-world.

So. I now love matzo brei. In fact, I'm making some new recipes and will post them if you insist.

©2009, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2015 Laynie Tzena.

New Food, Part One

So it's Pesach (that's Passover) again, and that means new food for a week. Well, some of the usual contenders: fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, protein, chocolate. And the miracle that happens every year: This descendant of Lithuanian, German, and Polish Jews--Ashkenazim--suddenly becomes Sephardic.

It's a long story. The short version is: Rice and beans. Most Sephardic Jews eat legumes and rice during Pesach; most Ashkenazi Jews don't. If you want to learn more about this, look up kitniyot. See if you can stay awake during the debate. I'm cooking rice.

And not burning it, ever since some angel years ago taught me a simple method:

Fool-Proof Brown Rice:

1 cup brown rice, short- or long-grain
1-1/2 cups water or stock

Preheat the oven to 350°. Coat the inside of a pan with oil. I use olive oil. Rinse the rice in a strainer, and add the rice to the pan. Bring the water or stock to a boil, and pour the boiling liquid over the rice. Cover the pan, and place it on the middle rack of the preheated oven. Set the timer and go do something else for 25 minutes.

Which reminds me: Has anybody else been hearing in the news about how multi-tasking doesn't work and you can really only do one thing at a time, blah blah blah? Am I the only person to wonder if the researchers might be descended from, say, androids? Let's face it: Mothers have been multi-tasking since the beginning of recorded time. The clothes were in the dryer while Mom was getting dinner on the table and whipping up sandwiches for tomorrow, helping with homework, and maybe organizing the car pool. Never mind piano lessons and recitals, practices and games, haircuts, visits to the doctor and, if the family was lucky, a vacation to be organized as well. These things, or at least the planning for them, had to be done simultaneously or nobody would have gotten to school and then college and then graduate school where they could do a study and determine it couldn't be done.

Cooking is a wonderful combination of single-pointed focus (on measuring that rice, for example) and multi-tasking (the rice is in the oven while you're dicing an onion and mincing some herbs for another dish, choosing the greens for the salad and rinsing them in the colander, etc.). Text and context.

And speaking of that rice: Once the timer rings, check to see if the water or stock has disappeared and the grains are just starting to come away from the sides of the pan. If it's close, just turn off the oven and set the timer for another five minutes. Then check it again, and taste it to be sure.

So now you have rice--which, if you make it tonight and you are Jewish and celebrating Pesach, means you're Sephardic, too. Bienvenidos. Who knew?

Next time, a Pesach recipe or two. Maybe more about my mother. If she ever gets online, I'm toast--er, matzo.

©2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013 Laynie Tzena.

It's all about Ed and Mollie

So here we go! With a big "Thanks" to Ed Brown and Mollie Katzen--Ed for Tassajara Cooking, where he said, "A recipe is a framework" and a whole world opened up, right in my kitchen; and Mollie, for those wonderful drawings in the Moosewood Cookbook, the welcoming voice on every page that said, "Dive in. Have fun!" and not only got me cooking but probably also got me started in creativity development. Because one of the best places to express your creativity is your very own kitchen.

In addition to cooking for friends and other loved ones, I've been a breakfast cook for a sorority house, a prep cook for a natural foods cafe, and a private chef.

My mother's a great cook, but she never said, "Do this. Don't do that." By the time I really started cooking, I was not only out of the house; I was across the country. (And long-distance calls were something you thought about first. "No, I can't hold on," you'd say to a receptionist. "This is long distance!").

Still, Mom has taught me many valuable lessons. Once, I found something rather firm in my soft-boiled eggs.

"Ma," I said, "There's a shell in the egg."

"No charge for the shell," she said.

Enough about eggs. Let's talk about oatmeal. I grew up with Quaker Oats. Great packaging, but these days I save rolled oats for cookies and oatmeal soup. For breakfast, I'll have steel cut oats, thank you. In fact, I had some this morning--the last of yesterday's batch. I reheated them with a bit of orange flower water. (You can get it at Middle Eastern markets; in San Francisco, you can get it and most of the ingredients below at Rainbow Grocery.) Sometimes I open the bottle of orange flower water on my counter just to smell it. It is straight heaven.

"Laynie's Morning Miracle":

2 tablespoons walnuts
1-2 tablespoons raisins (I like Thompson for this)
2 pieces dried fruit, diced (I like to use Deglet Noor dates and either a Bartlett pear, a Turkish apricot, or a Frog Hollow nectarine)
2 teaspoons dried orange peel*
Pinch cinnamon (if you don't use cinnamon often, try buying small amounts in bulk or buy cinnamon stick and grind it; you'll notice a big difference in flavor)
1-1/2 cup water
Pinch salt
1/2 cup steel cut oats
1 tablespoon raw wheat germ

Dry-roast the walnuts in a skillet. Place the raisins, orange peel, dried fruit, and cinnamon in a saucepan. Pour water over these and, when the water comes to a boil, add the salt. When it returns to the boil, stir in the steel cut oats. Simmer, covered, for 10-15 minutes (check after ten minutes to see that it doesn't get stuck to the bottom of the pan, if your pan is like mine). Once cereal is cooked, add the wheat germ to the skillet with the walnuts and gently toast. Then combine the walnut-wheat germ mixture with the cereal and serve. If you want to gild the lily, add some maple syrup.

*If you can't find dried orange peel where you live, just save the peels from organic or unsprayed oranges and tangerines you buy. When you have a half-dozen or so, preheat the oven to 250°, pull out a baking sheet and line it with parchment paper. Take a scissors and cut the peel into 1/4-1/2 inch squares. In no time at all (1/2 hr.-1 hr.), you'll have plenty of homemade dried orange peel, and your house will be filled with the loveliest fragrance.

©2009, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.