Talk about a Fancy Food show: A great turnout, real engagement, the kind of energy we haven't seen in a couple of years. A lot of promise. One of my customers said, "I've met people I've been dreaming about for years."
Hooray for everybody who worked so hard to make it happen.
Now let's build on it.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Have It Your Way
Dear Love at First Bite:
You must be joking. You're not serious about putting $35/lb. pine nuts in that salad, are you? Yes, it's delicious--mesclun lettuce, Fuji apples, a balsamic vinaigrette, goat cheese. But it's January, honey. How about something a little less pricey?
The Penny-Pincher
Dear Penny:
Happy New Year. Honey, promise me you didn't leave your imagination under the bed again.
Now, we could reflect on some simple facts:
a. The salad in question requires merely two tablespoons of pine nuts (which translates to a bit more than two bucks, especially if you comparison-shop).
b. That coffee you're so fond of puts the pine nut prices to shame.
c. Life is short.
But why spoil the fun? Instead, let's look at the basics of the ingredients in the original salad from the dinner party: lettuce, apples (well, sweet and slighly crunchy fruit), nuts, a vinaigrette. Let's leave out the cheese for now.
As we know, the key to eating well without spending a fortune is--say it with me--a well-stocked pantry. See "What a Little Minneola Can Do, Part Three," then try this:
Healthy, Wealthy, and Wise Salad:
For the salad:
1 Arkansas Black apple or Bosc pear
2 tablespoons raw cashews
Mesclun lettuce
For the dressing:
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Smidgen stoneground mustard
Pinch grated ginger
Pinch tangerine zest
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a baking sheet, toast raw cashers until slightly darkened.
Slice apple or pear, divide slices in four.
Why four?
Because they look like little pieces of pie. Feel free to slice, chop, dice--it's your salad, Toots.
Rinse greens and place in bowl with sliced apple or pear. Whisk together dressing ingredients and add to apples and greens, toss, add toasted cashews, toss again, and serve.
Very nice. But that's not the same salad.
Fine. Here's a closer approximation.
Healthy, Wealthy, and Wise Salad #2:
For the salad:
1 D'Anjou pear (or, if you prefer, a Fuji apple)
2 tablespoons raw walnuts
Mesclun lettuce
For the dressing:
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Smidgen Dijon mustard
Pinch fresh or dried basil
Pinch orange zest
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a baking sheet, toast raw walnuts until slightly darkened.
Slice pear.
Rinse greens and place in bowl with sliced pears. Whisk together dressing ingredients and add to pear and greens, toss, add toasted walnuts, toss again, and serve.
Spread some chevre on your favorite bread and start the year.
©2011, 2012, 2013. 2014 Laynie Tzena.
You must be joking. You're not serious about putting $35/lb. pine nuts in that salad, are you? Yes, it's delicious--mesclun lettuce, Fuji apples, a balsamic vinaigrette, goat cheese. But it's January, honey. How about something a little less pricey?
The Penny-Pincher
Dear Penny:
Happy New Year. Honey, promise me you didn't leave your imagination under the bed again.
Now, we could reflect on some simple facts:
a. The salad in question requires merely two tablespoons of pine nuts (which translates to a bit more than two bucks, especially if you comparison-shop).
b. That coffee you're so fond of puts the pine nut prices to shame.
c. Life is short.
But why spoil the fun? Instead, let's look at the basics of the ingredients in the original salad from the dinner party: lettuce, apples (well, sweet and slighly crunchy fruit), nuts, a vinaigrette. Let's leave out the cheese for now.
As we know, the key to eating well without spending a fortune is--say it with me--a well-stocked pantry. See "What a Little Minneola Can Do, Part Three," then try this:
Healthy, Wealthy, and Wise Salad:
For the salad:
1 Arkansas Black apple or Bosc pear
2 tablespoons raw cashews
Mesclun lettuce
For the dressing:
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Smidgen stoneground mustard
Pinch grated ginger
Pinch tangerine zest
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a baking sheet, toast raw cashers until slightly darkened.
Slice apple or pear, divide slices in four.
Why four?
Because they look like little pieces of pie. Feel free to slice, chop, dice--it's your salad, Toots.
Rinse greens and place in bowl with sliced apple or pear. Whisk together dressing ingredients and add to apples and greens, toss, add toasted cashews, toss again, and serve.
Very nice. But that's not the same salad.
Fine. Here's a closer approximation.
Healthy, Wealthy, and Wise Salad #2:
For the salad:
1 D'Anjou pear (or, if you prefer, a Fuji apple)
2 tablespoons raw walnuts
Mesclun lettuce
For the dressing:
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Smidgen Dijon mustard
Pinch fresh or dried basil
Pinch orange zest
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a baking sheet, toast raw walnuts until slightly darkened.
Slice pear.
Rinse greens and place in bowl with sliced pears. Whisk together dressing ingredients and add to pear and greens, toss, add toasted walnuts, toss again, and serve.
Spread some chevre on your favorite bread and start the year.
©2011, 2012, 2013. 2014 Laynie Tzena.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Luck
Some people say luck is just what arrives on the plate of your life. I say you can make some of it happen. And here it is, a brand new year, and I'm enlisting the help of tradition. I want a better year than the last one. There was a lot of good, to be sure--some great creative projects with some fine people--but there was also a lot of loss: a beloved college friend, one of my favorite customers, and a man who did gorgeous work for me for the past ten years. Not to mention a few friends with sudden dramatic changes to their health.
So I'm making black-eyed peas.
I was never a bean girl when I was a vegetarian, or in the years afterward. Oy. What a production. The sorting always threw me, for starters. I was always positive I was taking too many out, or a stray one I missed would turn out to be a stone and crack my tooth. And let's not even go into soaking (you have to plan!).
But I've become a bit more teachable, I suppose. A few years ago I realized I really could stir the cereal into the boiling water, rather than having to plop it in all at once because why should you have to stir it in? "Who says?" had been my mantra. (One year I also realized traffic lights take two minutes. I hardly ever stress at a light anymore.)
So I tried rinsing the beans and then spreading them out on one of my favorite plates, and what do you know? It was easy. And I had also made the acquaintance of one Harold McGee via Terry Gross' "Fresh Air," and so had learned that you could cook the beans slowly--in the oven, even--and never have to soak them. Hello, bean family!
In addition to their absolute beauty, black-eyed peas are said to bring luck at the start of the year. But this soup was actually inspired by the leafy celery Swanton had at the Farmers' Market several Saturdays ago. In the past, I'd always avoided leafy celery, but this time I thought, "That's gorgeous! I'm gonna make something with those leaves." Soon came the idea for the pesto, which I realized would give the black-eyed peas a lot of punch. Some folks think you need to get that from ham hocks, but that's pretty much just straight salt. This is a lot more interesting, if you ask me.
So here is my new favorite soup. And here's to a great new year.
Black-Eyed Pea Soup with Celery Leaf Pesto*:
For the soup:
1 cup black-eyed peas
1 medium onion
1 clove garlic
Stems of 1 bunch of Swiss chard**
1 stalk celery
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 cups water
1 inch-long piece of kombu (optional)
For the pesto:
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup celery leaves
1/2 cup Italian parsley
1-2 cloves garlic
1-2 lemons
1 Meyer lemon
Extra-virgin olive oil to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put on music of choice. Toast sunflower seeds and remove from oven. Chop fine in the food processor while still warm. Lower oven temperature to 250.
Rinse black-eyed peas and remove bad guys. Place kombu in the pan, then beans, and then water. Bring to a boil. Simmer for five minutes. Then place in the oven and cook until done (beans should mash on the roof of your mouth, skins should be intact).
Chop the onion. Cut the chard stems into litle squares, and slice the celery into half-moons.
Now here comes the pesto. Add the garlic to the sunflower seeds, chop. Remove sunflower-garlic mixture from food processor and place in a bowl. Now add the celery leaves and parsley, chop, and let them go a little longer--they'll start to give up more liquid, which means less oil needed later. Juice and zest lemon and Meyer lemon, add zest and pulp of both, plus juice to taste. Now start adding** olive oil, one tablespoon at a time until it reaches the desired consistency. Pulse, taste, and make any necessary changes.
Heat the skillet, add the olive oil and chopped onion. Put a lid on the pan and cook slowly until the onions are transparent, then add the garlic and cook for another minute or two. Now add the chard and celery and cook, covered, until the vegetables are cooked to your taste (I like the chard on the softer side and the celery a little crisp). Add to cooked black-eyed peas.
*You call this pesto? Where's the cheese?
Actually, "pesto" just means sauce. This is a cross between a pesto and pistou, and of course I love cheese but I find it often takes over and masks other flavors. I'd rather have it on the side. The lemon zest provides some of the same function in binding the pesto.
**Where did the chard leaves go? Into the Lentil-Chard soup. http://cookwithlaynie.blogspot.com/2009/05/great-apricot-or-we-like-him-again.html
**Doesn't all this adding make you think we should subtract something? We did. We left out the ham. My rabbi is smiling.
©2011, 2014,2015 Laynie Tzena.
So I'm making black-eyed peas.
I was never a bean girl when I was a vegetarian, or in the years afterward. Oy. What a production. The sorting always threw me, for starters. I was always positive I was taking too many out, or a stray one I missed would turn out to be a stone and crack my tooth. And let's not even go into soaking (you have to plan!).
But I've become a bit more teachable, I suppose. A few years ago I realized I really could stir the cereal into the boiling water, rather than having to plop it in all at once because why should you have to stir it in? "Who says?" had been my mantra. (One year I also realized traffic lights take two minutes. I hardly ever stress at a light anymore.)
So I tried rinsing the beans and then spreading them out on one of my favorite plates, and what do you know? It was easy. And I had also made the acquaintance of one Harold McGee via Terry Gross' "Fresh Air," and so had learned that you could cook the beans slowly--in the oven, even--and never have to soak them. Hello, bean family!
In addition to their absolute beauty, black-eyed peas are said to bring luck at the start of the year. But this soup was actually inspired by the leafy celery Swanton had at the Farmers' Market several Saturdays ago. In the past, I'd always avoided leafy celery, but this time I thought, "That's gorgeous! I'm gonna make something with those leaves." Soon came the idea for the pesto, which I realized would give the black-eyed peas a lot of punch. Some folks think you need to get that from ham hocks, but that's pretty much just straight salt. This is a lot more interesting, if you ask me.
So here is my new favorite soup. And here's to a great new year.
Black-Eyed Pea Soup with Celery Leaf Pesto*:
For the soup:
1 cup black-eyed peas
1 medium onion
1 clove garlic
Stems of 1 bunch of Swiss chard**
1 stalk celery
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 cups water
1 inch-long piece of kombu (optional)
For the pesto:
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup celery leaves
1/2 cup Italian parsley
1-2 cloves garlic
1-2 lemons
1 Meyer lemon
Extra-virgin olive oil to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put on music of choice. Toast sunflower seeds and remove from oven. Chop fine in the food processor while still warm. Lower oven temperature to 250.
Rinse black-eyed peas and remove bad guys. Place kombu in the pan, then beans, and then water. Bring to a boil. Simmer for five minutes. Then place in the oven and cook until done (beans should mash on the roof of your mouth, skins should be intact).
Chop the onion. Cut the chard stems into litle squares, and slice the celery into half-moons.
Now here comes the pesto. Add the garlic to the sunflower seeds, chop. Remove sunflower-garlic mixture from food processor and place in a bowl. Now add the celery leaves and parsley, chop, and let them go a little longer--they'll start to give up more liquid, which means less oil needed later. Juice and zest lemon and Meyer lemon, add zest and pulp of both, plus juice to taste. Now start adding** olive oil, one tablespoon at a time until it reaches the desired consistency. Pulse, taste, and make any necessary changes.
Heat the skillet, add the olive oil and chopped onion. Put a lid on the pan and cook slowly until the onions are transparent, then add the garlic and cook for another minute or two. Now add the chard and celery and cook, covered, until the vegetables are cooked to your taste (I like the chard on the softer side and the celery a little crisp). Add to cooked black-eyed peas.
*You call this pesto? Where's the cheese?
Actually, "pesto" just means sauce. This is a cross between a pesto and pistou, and of course I love cheese but I find it often takes over and masks other flavors. I'd rather have it on the side. The lemon zest provides some of the same function in binding the pesto.
**Where did the chard leaves go? Into the Lentil-Chard soup. http://cookwithlaynie.blogspot.com/2009/05/great-apricot-or-we-like-him-again.html
**Doesn't all this adding make you think we should subtract something? We did. We left out the ham. My rabbi is smiling.
©2011, 2014,2015 Laynie Tzena.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Dave's Not Here
Hit the wrong switch on the radio and there were those same people, my dearly beloved would be-friends, happy as ever to tell me exactly how the world should be (with half my favorite people left out). Said the version of "No, thank you" suited to the occasion, hit a different switch, and whaddya know, the magic station* with not just Cheech and Chong (Welcome back, boys!) but "Hey, hey, hey, it's Fat Albert," courtesy of one Bill Cosby. Was lucky enough to see him with my friend Larry at a benefit for Back on Track a year or two ago. And a lot more years ago, I saw Cos at the Felt Forum in Madison Square Garden. You could learn more just from watching how Bill Cosby uses his face, how he moves, than you would in half a dozen classes.
I could tell the Rockin' Green Bean Salad (a cousin of the Rockin' Romano, ask me about that later) would take too long, so I decided to make that new black bean I've been thinking about, especially given that both cilantros in the fridge were looking so tired.
Red and Green and Yes, Black Bean Salad:
For the salad:
1 can organic black beans**
1 green bell pepper
2 roma tomatoes
1 cippoline onion
For the dressing:
4T extra virgin olive oil with zip (I used Spanish oil and also broke out the LA "Intenso" for the occasion)
Juice and zest of one lemon
Handful of fresh Italian parsley
1 clove garlic
1/4 teaspoon celery seed
Smidgen stone-ground mustard
Pinch salt
Pinch freshly-ground black pepper
Rinse and drain black beans. Seed the tomatoes, then chop the vegetables and mince the parsley and garlic. Whisk the oil and lemon juice together with the rest of the dressing ingredients. Add the vegetables and toss. Then add the black beans, toss again, add a splash of cider vinegar, and serve.
Had a chance to catch up with some folks and meet some new ones over at Mary and Ray's, and just about everybody had a great story to tell. Good thing we had plenty of time to talk before we sat down to dinner--and what a meal it was: Slow-cooked, silky leeks, red pepper marmalade, olive salad, two kinds of stuffing, pecans on the yams, and potatoes au gratin, along with the turkey and green beans one might expect. Oh, and homemade pumpkin pudding. Yes, indeed. And I had small bites of everything, for once, so I didn't have to lay on the bed face down when I got home, and could also skip the online first aid for the usual.
As those radio people are always saying (the rest of us save it for when people actually sneeze), God bless you. Everyone.
*This time, the magic station was KUSF.
**Yes, yes, I know I should make my own black beans. I have lentils on the stove this very minute. But remember, I was supposed to be there at 3.
©2010 Laynie Tzena.
I could tell the Rockin' Green Bean Salad (a cousin of the Rockin' Romano, ask me about that later) would take too long, so I decided to make that new black bean I've been thinking about, especially given that both cilantros in the fridge were looking so tired.
Red and Green and Yes, Black Bean Salad:
For the salad:
1 can organic black beans**
1 green bell pepper
2 roma tomatoes
1 cippoline onion
For the dressing:
4T extra virgin olive oil with zip (I used Spanish oil and also broke out the LA "Intenso" for the occasion)
Juice and zest of one lemon
Handful of fresh Italian parsley
1 clove garlic
1/4 teaspoon celery seed
Smidgen stone-ground mustard
Pinch salt
Pinch freshly-ground black pepper
Rinse and drain black beans. Seed the tomatoes, then chop the vegetables and mince the parsley and garlic. Whisk the oil and lemon juice together with the rest of the dressing ingredients. Add the vegetables and toss. Then add the black beans, toss again, add a splash of cider vinegar, and serve.
Had a chance to catch up with some folks and meet some new ones over at Mary and Ray's, and just about everybody had a great story to tell. Good thing we had plenty of time to talk before we sat down to dinner--and what a meal it was: Slow-cooked, silky leeks, red pepper marmalade, olive salad, two kinds of stuffing, pecans on the yams, and potatoes au gratin, along with the turkey and green beans one might expect. Oh, and homemade pumpkin pudding. Yes, indeed. And I had small bites of everything, for once, so I didn't have to lay on the bed face down when I got home, and could also skip the online first aid for the usual.
As those radio people are always saying (the rest of us save it for when people actually sneeze), God bless you. Everyone.
*This time, the magic station was KUSF.
**Yes, yes, I know I should make my own black beans. I have lentils on the stove this very minute. But remember, I was supposed to be there at 3.
©2010 Laynie Tzena.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Me Need Miso, or Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle to the Rescue
Yes, those mini-cupcakes were delicious at Iron Cupcake tonight (and some of my favorite bakers won!), but after all that sweet stuff it's definitely time for miso broth with dulse, brown rice, maybe a French breakfast radish at 10 p.m., and then a serious talk with my pillow. New recipes very soon.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Not To Mention That Foghorn . . .
Oh, children, life is sweet: It's apple season (is there anything more beautiful than a slice of Pink Pearl apple?), Lucero's spaceship squash is back, the San Francisco Street Food Festival is Saturday (http://www.sfstreetfoodfest.com), and for dessert, Charles Chocolates is opening its flagship store here in the city (http://us1.campaign-archive1.com/?u=6158b9175add5fbfb0c515375&id=7b49f2fe55&e=b16662e756).
What's that? Fog? Yes. It is August in San Francisco. There is fog. Wear layers. I know, I know. I don't love the cold, either. But Herb Caen was right: The fog is pretty darned gorgeous over those hills. Sandburg said so, too.
Also, one of my favorite movies from the Jewish Film Festival (hard to choose, really, with so many great ones this year), Robert Guediguian's Army of Crime, about French-Armenian poet Missak Manouchian and other members of the French Resistance, is showing at the Kabuki. Brace yourself for some tough scenes (we are talking about the Vichy), but do not miss it.
©2010 Laynie Tzena.
What's that? Fog? Yes. It is August in San Francisco. There is fog. Wear layers. I know, I know. I don't love the cold, either. But Herb Caen was right: The fog is pretty darned gorgeous over those hills. Sandburg said so, too.
Also, one of my favorite movies from the Jewish Film Festival (hard to choose, really, with so many great ones this year), Robert Guediguian's Army of Crime, about French-Armenian poet Missak Manouchian and other members of the French Resistance, is showing at the Kabuki. Brace yourself for some tough scenes (we are talking about the Vichy), but do not miss it.
©2010 Laynie Tzena.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Take a Bow, Part Three
Part Three: Something In The Air
So the Red Bird was wonderful--full of flavor, and all that--but I was still thinking of tea-poaching when I walked into Whole Foods and their air-chilled bone-in chicken breasts were on sale. I had seen the air-chilled chicken around but had yet to buy it, thinking it was just overpriced chicken.
Wrong.
(Ginger) Tea-Poached Chicken:
1 bone-in chicken breast, skin and fat removed
4-5 slices fresh ginger, peeled
1 cup water
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Place ginger and water in saucepan, heat to boiling, cover and simmer 10-15 minutes. Strain tea and combine 1/4 cup of tea and 1 teaspoon sesame oil in skillet, bring to boil. Rinse chicken, add to pan and cover. Reduce flame to low setting and simmer for fifteen minutes (ten if you're using air-chilled chicken), then turn off burner and let chicken sit in the pan for another ten to fifteen minutes or until done. Remove chicken to heated plate, strain poaching liquid and spoon over chicken.
This was great with jasmine rice and green beans.
As to the air-chilled chicken: Word. I'm going to use that for the Sopa di Lima next time (see "Cluck, Cluck") and not reduce the chicken stock, since the chicken is--you should excuse the expression--so chicken-y. Why? Must be something in the air. I'm not asking.
But don't worry, Mollie Stone's: I still love your chicken.
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
So the Red Bird was wonderful--full of flavor, and all that--but I was still thinking of tea-poaching when I walked into Whole Foods and their air-chilled bone-in chicken breasts were on sale. I had seen the air-chilled chicken around but had yet to buy it, thinking it was just overpriced chicken.
Wrong.
(Ginger) Tea-Poached Chicken:
1 bone-in chicken breast, skin and fat removed
4-5 slices fresh ginger, peeled
1 cup water
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Place ginger and water in saucepan, heat to boiling, cover and simmer 10-15 minutes. Strain tea and combine 1/4 cup of tea and 1 teaspoon sesame oil in skillet, bring to boil. Rinse chicken, add to pan and cover. Reduce flame to low setting and simmer for fifteen minutes (ten if you're using air-chilled chicken), then turn off burner and let chicken sit in the pan for another ten to fifteen minutes or until done. Remove chicken to heated plate, strain poaching liquid and spoon over chicken.
This was great with jasmine rice and green beans.
As to the air-chilled chicken: Word. I'm going to use that for the Sopa di Lima next time (see "Cluck, Cluck") and not reduce the chicken stock, since the chicken is--you should excuse the expression--so chicken-y. Why? Must be something in the air. I'm not asking.
But don't worry, Mollie Stone's: I still love your chicken.
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
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