Lawyer Loves Lunch

The Hubster's Grilled Turkey Sandwich with Cilantro Pistachio Pesto

2013-05-14T06:00:00.000-07:00

I'm convinced I'm married to the smartest man in the world. See, the hubster has figured out that he needs to cook just one thing every year. Not two or three because that's heading toward routine and expected. No, just one. That way, it's always an exciting surprise. Back in 2006, he made Chicken Tikka Masala for dinner one night and he is still riding on the glory of that one meal. When a friend asks, "So which one of you is the cook?" the Hubster nonchalantly responds, "Oh, both of us cook. I make a great Chicken Tikka Masala."

Lately, the Hubster has saved his once-a-year foray into the kitchen to make a baked treat for my birthday. I hate to admit it but gosh, I love that annual baked treat. Last year, he made a batch of Ina Garten's Shortbread Cookies dipped in dark chocolate and I swear, coming home to those cookies was better than receiving jewelry or a fancy handbag and almost better than sleeping in. Almost. Let's not get carried away here.

But apparently, the Hubster wasn't content with his once-a-year baking prowess. Recently, he nonchalantly let it slip that when he was in undergrad, he was apparently quite the cook. He and his roommates specialized in wholesome meals such as doctored-up frozen pizza, "fresh" pasta of the Buitoni variety, and wait for it, the turkey and cheese sandwich. Unable to leave well enough alone, I was forced to ask about these world famous turkey sandwiches.

"So, you made turkey and cheese sandwiches for dinner?" I asked. "No Azmina, not JUST turkey and cheese sandwiches. GRILLED turkey and cheese sandwiches," he said confidently. I looked at him so skeptically, he felt compelled to make a special trip to the grocery store to get his special turkey and special cheese. And of course, his special bread from Tartine Bakery. All to make us his special turkey sandwiches to preserve his cooking honor. Oh, and reputation.

As he was making the sandwiches, I wandered by the kitchen and told him I wanted spread on my sandwich. Oh, and I didn't want mayo. Next thing I know, the Hubster is placing a grilled turkey and cheese sandwich in front of me crowing about what a genius he is. Apparently, the man happened to use our homemade cilantro pistachio pesto as a spread. Genius? Hardly. I mean, I told him I wanted a non-mayo spread on my sandwich. I made the pesto. Heck, he just happened to put it on a sandwich.

Pause grumpy, incredulous commentary. Bite. Pause. Oh wait, this does taste like genius. Darn it, he's done it again! So here's the lowdown on this pesto. It is fantastic. I know food bloggers say that all the time but really, this pesto is fantastic. We toss it with pasta and chicken for quick dinners, smear it on crackers for quick snacks, and I am not ashamed to admit that sometimes when I open the fridge to grab something specific, I get distracted and swipe a spoonful of pesto just because. The pesto has got this fresh herb flavor that is perfect for summer without being overwhelmingly herb'y. And apparently, it has the super hero power to elevate a humble turkey sandwich from the hubster's college days to the best turkey sandwich I've ever had. Oh wait, GRILLED turkey sandwich.

As for the me, I'm guessing I won't get a baked treat for my birthday this year. The hubster already made his one meal of the year this weekend and established that apparently, there are two cooks in this family. Why mess with genius, right?

Cilantro Pistachio Pesto
2 cups of fresh cilantro (large stems removed)
1/8 cup of fresh mint leaves
1/2 cup shelled pistachios
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. chopped serrano chile
1/4 tsp. cumin
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and pepper

In a food processor, pulse the cilantro, mint, pistachios, garlic, chile, and cumin until well blended. With the food processor running, slowly add the olive oil until pesto reaches desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper. As an aside, I have the world's junkiest food processor so I often need to add more oil (1/8 to 1/4 cup) to get a smoother consistency. Plus, a looser pesto makes a fantastic pasta sauce so I consider my junky food processor to be a blessing. Right.

Garlic Noodle Bowls and the Great Paint Conundrum

2013-04-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't know Dadi, my paternal grandmother, at least not like I knew Mumma. My Dadi passed away long before I came around. She left behind my dad and my two uncles who aren't big talkers, much less storytellers, so all I know about Dadi is what I've gleaned from random tidbits my mom has shared over time. Under ordinary circumstances, the prospect of losing such a crucial part of my family's history would sadden me but the fact is, the few Dadi stories I have are so awesome, I know my family's history will be just fine.

Cue the story of Dadi and 516. That was the number of the house my dad grew up in. See, 516 housed all men (four burly ones, to be exact) except Dadi. No one really cared how the place looked, except Dadi. The 1960's orange floral furniture didn't match, the table creaked, and try as he might, the gardener simply couldn't revive the lawn. No one was interested in freshening up the place, except Dadi. Well one day, Dadi decided she'd had enough. She got some paint (yellow, mind you, because the women in my family are nothing if not trendy) and painted the living room. Except she was 5'1 (another trait we share) and well, she was only able to paint the bottom half of the wall. And of course, the men didn't care or even notice for that matter. And so, the half yellow walls remained. Forever, I imagine.

I love this story. I picture a petite woman with gorgeous braided hair, navigating around piles of sporting goods and car parts and electronic doodads, deciding that amidst all this manly chaos, she was going to take charge and make something beautiful. I tried to channel that same can-do spirit when we bought our house. The house was the epitome of builder basic but the truth was, I loved that the house was a blank canvas just waiting for me to go all Pinterest and DIY happy on it. But over the last few years, we've been so busy and lots has changed in our lives. Unfortunately, not much has changed in the house. It remains a blank canvas and the beige'ness of it all is just overwhelming.

A few months ago, I decided we'd start with something small. We would paint the living room grey. I patted myself on the back for choosing a color rather easily. Except I failed to realize there are 500 kinds of grey all slightly different than the next. Pewter, charcoal, stone, rainstorm, burnt ember. Convinced that the color choice would be easier after I got it on the wall, I bravely painted my sample paint squares. Except none of the colors felt quite right. And I couldn't explain what about them didn't feel right. So there I was, unable to identify what was wrong and paralyzed by making the wrong decision. And so I did nothing.

Sometimes, I sit at the bottom of our staircase, staring at the three painted squares, hoping for some sort of divine decorating inspiration but alas, nothing. I've been staring at these ridiculous squares for more than six months now. And it's only recently that I've begun to accept the walls will get painted when they do. Unpainted walls, or better yet, walls with three random paint squares, won't stop us from having friends over for dinner. They won't get in the way of Little Man and his friends playing with blocks in the living room. They can't stop us from laughing at taking ourselves too seriously. And most importantly they won't prevent us from making great food for our family.

Luckily, cooking is nothing like decorating or else we would most certainly starve. Where I question every single decorating decision, cooking involves a series of steps that feel like a second nature. Take these Garlic Noodle Bowls that make their way into our weekly dinner rotation (sometimes, two or three, okay five nights in a row). Cook your garlic (lots of garlic because this ain't no first date food) until slightly golden. Throw in your noodles, stir it around and let 'em sit in the pan undisturbed so they get crispy around the edges. In the meantime, grill your veggies (last week, grilled asparagus made its way into the noodle bowls. Every. Time). If you have a protein around (or live with a staunch carnivore), throw that in too.

The hubster and I recently ate our garlic noodle bowls at the bottom of the staircase so we could stare at the paint squares, hoping for some magical inspiration. "Looks like 516," he said with a grin. "Yup, it does," I agreed with an even bigger grin.

Garlic Noodles
16 ounces dried pasta
1 lb. asparagus (or broccoli, or green beans, or spinach, or or or)
2-3 chicken breasts (or flank steak, or firm tofu, or turkey, or or or)
6-8 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tb. butter
3 tb. olive oil
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
salt and pepper

Boil pasta. While pasta is boiling, cook asparagus (or vegetable of your choice). I recently got a cast iron grill pan and I have been using the heck out of it to grill up veggies and meat alike. Basically, anything cooked on super high heat takes on a delicious grilled BBQ flavor without having to deal with well, an actual BBQ. So yeah, cook the asparagus until it gets those delicious grill marks. Drain pasta, reserving a bit (maybe 1/3 cup) of pasta water.

Heat oil and butter in a large skillet until butter browns just a tad (just a warning that there are only a few seconds between browned butter and burnt butter. Not that I know from experience or anything. Just watch the butter closely). Add the minced garlic and cook until garlic is just starting to brown and get crispy around the edges (again, garlic goes from golden to burnt pretty quickly. Or so a friend told me). Add your pasta, pasta water, and crushed red pepper flakes. Toss to coat completely and let the pasta cook, undisturbed. In the meantime, prep your protein. I'm partial to coating chicken breasts in a bit of panko and pan frying it for a quick katsu or grilling chicken in my beloved grill pan but really, any protein works.

Stir pasta (by now, the edges of the pasta should be crispy and deliciously browned). If not, let it cook undisturbed for a few more minutes. Throw in the veggies and meat and season with salt and pepper. Eat. Preferably not while sitting at the bottom of a staircase, staring at paint squares.

Relying on Banana Peanut Butter Cup Muffins

2013-04-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

Last week was rough. On Monday, Little Man started daycare. This, after a year and half of being cared for by his grandparents. But while the grandparents could care for a baby cooing in a crib. their achy knees don't allow them to run after a shockingly fast toddler. Plus, Little Man needs to be around other little kids. Or so we tell ourselves.

And so, I dressed Little Man in a crisp white shirt (rookie mistake) and his navy blue Chuck Taylors with the Velcro straps. We took a picture before leaving. Me, trying to hold on to a baby who is clearly no longer a baby. And Little Man trying to escape my arms to continue running around the table. In the picture, Little Man looks mischievous. Mamma looks mussy and tired. In short, business as usual. And yet, the moment felt somehow more significant than the hundreds of Mamma and Little Man moments that make up each day.

As soon as we entered the daycare, Little Man knew something was wrong. He turned right around and tried to march right outside. The determined attempt to leave was followed by a death grip on his Baba's leg followed by plaintive cries, "No mamma, nooooo." No amount of pointing to the blocks and the carefree kids eased his anguish. The daycare instructor gently took him and simultaneously ushered us out the door but that one second was enough to see the terrified and disappointed expression in Little Man's eyes. Little Man thought we were abandoning him.

And walk out we did. Except I spent the next ten minutes crouched on the porch, in the rain, hearing Little Man continue crying inside. At some point, the Hubster ushered me to the car where I continued crying. And I cried on the train to work. I may have had to rush out of a presentation because I was about to, you guessed it, cry some more. To the colleague giving the presentation, it wasn't you. It was clearly me. I was a hot mess and I'm sorry.

The sadness was so overwhelming, the only thing left to do was bake. And so at 11 p.m., I baked these mini banana muffins. And because I'm a firm believer in the healing powers of chocolate, I added some chocolate chips to the muffins. Oh, and some peanut butter cups because well, we needed extra healing this week. And the next morning, Little Man and I shared a muffin for breakfast as my way of reassuring him that we'd always come back for him. And we went through the same grueling routine again.

Every parent who has gone through the daycare transition tells me it will get better. That there will come a time where he will hop out of the car and run in to play with his friends without so much as a backward glance at his Mamma. But that day was not today. It most likely won't be tomorrow or the next either. And so, I'll continue making muffins. And he and I will share them for breakfast. And after I drop him off, I'll sit outside the daycare in my car, shoveling muffins in my mouth while tears run down my face. And though I know we'll get through this week with or without muffins, I'm glad it's the former.

Banana Peanut Butter Cup Muffins
Yields 30 mini muffins.

3 ripe bananas, smashed
1/3 cup melted butter
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 cups flour
1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup chopped peanut butter cups

Preheat the oven to 350°F. With a wooden spoon, mix butter into the mashed bananas in a large mixing bowl. Mix in the sugar, egg, and vanilla. Sprinkle the baking soda over the mixture and mix in. Add the flour and mix. Add chocolate chips and peanut butter cups and mix (mixture will likely be a bit lumpy).

Line mini muffin pan with liners. Pour mixture into each muffin cup (I like to fill each cup heaping full so the muffins bake up with a nice domed top). Bake for 18-20 minutes.

Adapted from Simply Recipes.

Mumma's Sharp White Cheddar Mac n' Cheese

2013-02-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

The bowl was in the dishwasher at work and I recognized it instantly. That rim of earthy green flowers decorating the edge of a crisp white Pyrex bowl. My grandmother had a set of the very same dishes in her house in Karachi and they would sometimes make an appearance at chai time. Was it a sign from god? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was something. See, my grandmother passed away last week. Mumma lived a long, full, and happy life. She traveled the world and had a large circle of beautiful and warm friends. She lived to see her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren build beautiful families and lives of their own. Hands down, Mumma was easily the most gracious and loved person I knew.

And yet, when my mother called to tell me of her passing, I had a very removed reaction. It had been many years since I'd seen Mumma. Over the last few years, her hearing started fading and phone calls became too taxing because I would essentially have a conversation with her nurse who would yell my statements to my grandmother and then relay my grandmother's response back. Sometimes, the nurse forgot that she didn't need to yell the response back to me so the entire phone call became a very loud, almost ironic game of Telephone. Thereafter, her memory became foggy and she could never quite remember which grandchild I was. Eventually, the nurse was forced to admit my grandmother had no idea who I was and why I was calling. And so, I stopped calling.

And yet, seeing that bowl in the dishwasher jolted me. It forced me to remember my grandmother as she once was, all stately and elegant, with the most graceful presence I have ever encountered. I grinned thinking of how she commanded order in our loud, boisterous, and ever argumentative family. I thought of the gold bracelet from her trousseau that she passed to me when I got married because as she said, "Every woman needs beautiful jewelry." And I smiled at my pear-shaped reflection in the mirror because although the figure was both a blessing and a curse (but mostly a curse), she was ever the egalitarian and passed her figure down to all the women in my family. And for that afternoon (and many to follow), I was the crazy person crying behind her closed office door. Crying and remembering.

You see, my Mumma was the epitome of style. And I'm not talking about the blue haired, flowered housecoat variety of style. No, she had more of a Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey style, what with her deep love of fine jewelry and designer shoes. Oh, and her perfume. Mumma's entire house smelled like her favorite perfume, Nina Ricci's L'Air du Temps. At a time when foreign perfumes were quite rare in Pakistan, Mumma had no qualms telling a friend or family member traveling abroad to bring back her precious Nina Ricci. Two bottles. When I was a kid, I would quickly get ready and rush to her vanity so she could squirt my wrists with her perfume every time we went out. To this day, that heady floral scent transports me back to those humid Pakistani summers. And gosh did she love fancy handbags. The woman was nonchalantly carrying Louis Vuitton long before the company stooped to making dog carriers and knockoffs became commonplace.

Best of all, my grandmother loved food. Everything from the humble bun kebab grilled by the streetside vendor to the fancy Chicken Kiev served on sparkling china at the fanciest restaurant in Karachi. Most surprisingly, my grandmother loved cheese. Loved it. And that's rare for an older Pakistani woman who really hasn't been exposed to cheese. Heck, to this day, the majority of my family in Pakistan thinks the best cheese is on Pizza Hut pizza. But oh how my Mumma loved cheese. Spicy pepper jack, creamy mozzarella, crackly parmesan and my personal favorite, sharp cheddar. And I wouldn't be doing Mumma's legacy justice if I didn't admit that amidst the many great cheeses we devoured with crackers, she and I indulged in more than our fair share of blue box Kraft mac n' cheese. And so, to honor her memory, I made a giant pot of mac n' cheese last weekend. I ate it quietly, staring out in the backyard and remembering her twinkling eyes, her laugh which erupted without warning, and her hugs which she doled out to friends and foes alike. And though there wasn't a blue box in sight, I think Mumma would have approved of this mac n' cheese.

When someone mentioned heaven, my grandmother always cackled, "If only someone went up and came back to tell us if it was worth it." I know you won't come back Mumma, but I know for certain you're up there, eating cheese and having a grand ol' time.

Sharp White Cheddar Mac n' Cheese with Toasted Garlic Breadcrumbs
3 1/2 tbs. butter
1 tb. olive oil
4 tbs. flour
1 garlic clove, minced
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 pound macaroni
2 cups shredded sharp white cheddar cheese
1/2 cup coarse breadcrumbs or Panko
Salt and Pepper

Boil water and cook pasta in heavily salted water until pasta is al dente.

While pasta is boiling, in a separate pot, melt 3 tablespoons. butter and 1 tablespoon oil oil. Gradually add in flour, whisking constantly, and cook until flour becomes golden brown and smells nutty. Add the milk, continuing to whisk constantly. The butter-flour-milk mixture should have the consistency of thick cream. If it's too thin, continue cooking until it thickens. Once the mixture has thickened, add the cheese and stir until melted. Season with salt and pepper. Drain pasta and add to the cheese mixture and mix completely.

In a separate pan, melt 1/2 tablespoon butter. Add garlic and cook until fragrant (don't walk away to answer the phone, check Twitter, or see what the Real Housewives are up to because the garlic will burn). Add the breadcrumbs to the delicious garlic butter and mix completely. Cook on low heat until breadcrumbs are toasted and fragrant.

Plate mac n' cheese. Top with toasted garlic breadcrumbs and chopped fresh herbs.

Fabulous Finds at the Fancy Food Show 2013

2013-01-29T06:00:00.000-08:00

January is kind of a terrible month. You have to accept that you're not getting a really really long weekend until November. You've somehow convinced yourself you need to eat vegetables everyday. Oh, and there are no Christmas cookies in sight. January would pretty much be a total waste if it wasn't for my favorite food event of the year, the Fancy Food Show.

Besides being the perfect venue to eat way too much cheese, pasta, and chocolate, and momentarily live out my dreams of building a career around visiting food shows, the Fancy Food Show is an awesome forum to discover fantastic new companies and products. I love chatting with producers and vendors who are passionate about the work they do and want to share it everyone. You know when you meet someone who is just so excited about their product, their eyes light up and their hands are making grand air gestures? I LOVE meeting people like that. I mean, a great product is a great product regardless but the story makes it all the more memorable so why not share how your company started, what inspires you to work crazy hours, and how you came up with these fantastic flavors?

So without further ado, here are some of my favorite products (and people!) from this year's Fancy Food Show:

1) Semifreddi's is a local Bay Area company which makes some gosh darn fantastic biscotti. You can tell just by looking at the biscotti that almonds are the primary ingredient. Oh, and do not even get me started on their chocolate biscotti. One word. Phenomenal. Plus, any company that lists their delivery driver, baker, and CEO as "our people" has got to be special.

2) Steve's Ice Cream is some of the best ice cream I've ever had. And if you know me and my deep love of ice cream, you know I do not make such a statement lightly. The company takes their mix-ins seriously. The vanilla wafer crumble for their fabulous Southern Banana Pudding ice cream is made by a pie shop in Brooklyn and the ricotta for their Strawberry Ricotta ice cream is from a local cheese shop specializing in small batch ricotta.

3) Penny's Salsa is fresh and fun! They have the normal range of mild, medium, and hot salas but also make a delicious mango and a tangy tomatillo salsa. Oh, and extra points for one the coolest displays at the show. Literally! Their entire display was an ice sculpture, complete with a giant cactus. The entire booth was disassembled every night, frozen, and set up the next morning!

4) Candy candy everywhere! Apparently, coffee candy is out and tea candy (with flavors such as Green Tea Latte and Classic Iced Tea) is all the rage. And while gummy candy is certainly not new, the good folks at Haribo had such a great display, it took all of my self control not to fill a giant bag of their gummy candy deliciousness.

5) Flamous Falafel Chips! If you just said, "Falafel...Chips?!?" you are not alone. The good people of the food product world have figured out a way to take your favorite deep fried lentil snack and chip'ify it. And before you ask, yes, they do taste like falafel. Well, not exactly like falafel because it's hard to chip'ify that delicious deep fried lentil taste. But close enough. And the best part is, you won't need that contraband deep fryer under your desk at work anymore.

6) Jam jam also everywhere! My love of jam is fairly well-documented. The problem is, once you've made homemade jam, you begin to think jarred jam will never measure up. Unless we are talking about Fischer and Wieser's Old Fashioned Peach Preserves because that stuff is just straight up awesome. I've been adding dollops of it in my morning oatmeal and it's pretty much changed my life. Or at least my morning. Okay, just my oatmeal. But you gotta start somewhere. Sarabeth's Orange Apricot Marmalade is equally amazing. I mean, it's the product that launched an entire company so you know it's gotta be good.

7) Popsalot Popcorn is another uber awesome Bay Area company. After sampling millions of little cups of ordinary kettle corn at the show, it was a delicious wake up call to try their Saigon Sunrise Kettle Corn with Vietnamese Cinnamon. Plus, co-founder Noah Sheray is one of those super passionate producers I mentioned and it was so much fun chatting with him (as I surreptitiously ate cup after cup of popcorn).

8) Seapoint Farms Dry Roasted Edamame might be the substitute for my persistent Doritos habit. Okay, probably not, but it's a super tasty snack filled with protein. The crunchy edamame come in three varieties- salted, wasabi, and with goji berries. Now if they'd make a Cool Ranch version, life would be pretty darn perfect.

9) John WM Macy's Cheese Sticks win a spot on this list for their name alone. I swear, when I create the next great food product, I'm going to call it Azmina UA Aboobaker's Fill-in-the-name-of-the-product-here (where UA stands for uber awesome, of course). These cheese sticks come in delicious flavors like garlic and scallion (oh and chocolate, hello!) and are perfect with a glass of something sparkly or in my world, a Slurpee.

10) I know the whole Celebrity Chefs thing is so passe but I can't help shrieking a bit when I spot a chef from Top Chef (which was my addiction until the hubster staged an intervention and cut off our cable). Oh, and I am about 85.7% certain I spotted the Chairman from Iron Chef. But I didn't take a picture because what if what if it was just his doppleganger? That'd just be weird. And awesome.

Till next year Fancy Food Show! Because really, eleven months is plenty of time to work off all those extra calories so I can come back and eat my weight in treats again next year.

Can't get enough of the Fancy Food Show? Check out what I saw and ate in 2012 and 2011.

Tandoori Chicken Naan Pizzas for the Messiest of Days

2013-01-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

The hubster made a comment recently that made me laugh. Not just laugh but out and out chortle. He said, "You know it seems like things have calmed down for you because you're no longer blogging about the chaos around you." I looked at him with my standard, "You're kidding, right?" expression. Look, it's always a poop storm around these parts. I just opt to focus on the fuzzy parts every now and then. Don't mean I'm not still dodging the poo.

One of my New Year's resolutions was to slow down. To talk less. Reflect more. And write with more calmness. But sometimes, it is hard to keep the chaos under control, regardless of how many darn deep breaths I take. Take Sunday for example. Little man and mamma are hanging out. Things are going well. We have read Goodnight Moon 27 times. We have eaten lots of blueberries and not enough pasta. And we are counting down the seconds to nap time so mamma can have the second coffee she so definitely deserves. When little man throws a wrench into the works.

So here's the requisite warning. We're about to discuss throw up. On a food blog. If that kinda thing freaks you out, I understand. I also understand you likely don't have kids. But we're about to get real (i.e., gross) up in here so if you need to stop reading, I understand. However, if you're like my friend Amy Kim who wisely coined the phrase, "I've been puked and pooed on. Nothing phases me," then by all means, read on.

So when little man threw up on the carpet, my New Year's resolution flew out the window. I said goodbye to my promise to be calmer and went into my default frantic mode. For a few minutes, I was a whirlwind of carpet cleaner, antibacterial wipes, and Febreeze. And hand soap. Lots of hand soap. And all I learned is it's incredibly difficult to get blueberry hued "residue" off of carpet.

And I realized that on those days when the carpet smells vaguely like throw up and the laundry is in big piles of dirty and kinda-dirty, the only viable lunch option is Naan Pizza. I know I know, this is not a "real" recipe. It's similar to my Mexican Fried Rice in that regard. It's more a formula that you tweak to fit the ingredients (and time!) you have on hand. I've made Naan Pizza with warm fluffy takeout naans from our favorite Pakistani restaurant. I've made it with the frozen naan we get in giant bags from Costco. And in truly desperate times, I've made it on regular ol' pita bread.

I've made naan pizza in the oven, the toaster oven, and on the stove. I've topped it with tandoori chicken, roasted red peppers, scallions, mushrooms, cheddar, mozzarella, and/or pepper jack. It all works. And it is awesome each and every time.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some carpet to clean. And some Naan Pizza to eat.

Tandoori Chicken Naan Pizzas
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp. ground corriander
1 1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1 1/2 tsp. onion powder
1 1/2 tsp. paprika
1/4 tsp. turmeric
1/4 tsp. garam masala
2-3 tbs. plain yogurt
Salt
Pepper
Oil

2 large or 3 medium naans
2 cups shredded cheese
Other toppings of your choice (e.g., roasted red peppers, mushrooms)

Let us be optimists here and assume you have enough time to make delicious tandoori chicken to top your Naan Pizza. If it's more of a realist kinda day, ditch the tandoori chicken option and top your Naan Pizzas with the frozen meatballs hiding in your freezer. But for optimism's sake, here's how you make your tandoori chicken.

Cut chicken into cubes, strips, triangles, or whatever shape strikes your fancy. Add yogurt and all of the spices and mix thoroughly. Marinate your chicken mixture anywhere from 1/2 hour to overnight. Heat 1-2 tablespoons of oil in a pan. Cook chicken in a grill pan on the stove for gorgeous charred chicken.

When chicken is almost done, toast your naan in the oven or toaster oven. During the last few minutes of toasting, top with shredded cheese, tandoori chicken, and/or other toppings of your choice. Pop the naans back into the oven until the cheese melts. Devour quickly because you could be called for the baby cleanup brigade any second.

Brown Butter Pistachio Cookies for Chai Time

2013-01-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

When I was seven, I spent every day that summer at my Mumma's house in Karachi. Mumma was my maternal grandmother and really, everyone from the ancient gardener to the youngest grandchild called her Mumma. To call her anything else would simply offend her and no one wanted to bear Mumma's wrath. As far as her house went, I use the term house loosely, because it was more a palace, at least in my seven-year old eyes. Room after room, filled with shiny glass curios she and my grandfather had collected on their international travels, enough silk flowers and music boxes to rival an antique shop, and my personal favorite, a giant grandfather clock that chimed every hour.

And every day at 4 p.m. on the nose, the clock would chime for chai. And aunts, uncles, and cousins would pour out of every crevice of that house and descend to the sitting room for their afternoon tea and gossip fest. To this day, I am not certain how many people actually lived in that house. All I know is that at 4 p.m., the sitting room was crowded, loud, and smelled faintly like Chanel No. 5. The relatives occupied every available seat, with the stragglers taking up places on the large floor cushions.

Mumma presided over the clatter like a queen presiding over her court. She watched closely as the chai was poured from her bone china teapot decorated with English tea roses along the handle. This was no ordinary chai. Rather, it was chai that had bern simmering on the stove for a good hour, while my grandmother's cook slowly added milk and cardamom and cinnamon until the chai was creamy and fragrant.

But afternoon chai was never just chai, you see. The table would groan under the weight of platters of tea sandwiches, plates of kebabs, and dishes filled with samosas. But even back then, my little hands were drawn to the cookies. Or as my grandmother called them, biscuits. Sometimes topped dried fruit, sometimes filled with sticky jam, and other times sprinkled with nuts. And while the others gravitated toward the savory dishes, I slowly pulled the plate of biscuits toward me until it was squarely in front if me like a dinner plate. Clearly, my love affair with cookies began early.

On the best of days, this pistachio cookie would be the biscuit of choice. And oh, what a biscuit it is. Perfectly crumbly from the semolina. Slightly salty from the salted pistachios. And lest you worry about the addition of gram flour, know that it adds the most wonderful caramelized nuttiness that goes so well with browned butter. If you don't believe me, bake up a batch and watch as the biscuit tops crack charmingly under the weight of sparkling sugar or even more pistachios.

This is the perfect biscuit for book clubs and dessert parties, for Sunday brunches and lazy afternoons. And it is most certainly perfect for 4 p.m. chai time.

Brown Butter Pistachio Cookies 10 tbs. butter
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup semolina
1 1/4 cups gram flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 cup chopped pistachios
A handful of chopped pistachios or sparkling sugar for topping cookies

Yields approximately one dozen large cookies or two dozen smallish cookies.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Melt butter on the stove until golden brown. If you have not used brown butter in a recipe before, or if the you always end up in burned butter instead of brown butter land, read Simply Recipe's tutorial asap. Once brown butter is cool, add to a mixing bowl and beat in the brown sugar.

In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, semolina, gram flour, baking powder, and pistachios. Mix flour and butter gradually until dough forms. Knead until dough is smooth. If dough is too sticky, wrap dough in waxed paper and refrigerate for 20 minutes. If dough is manageable, there is no need to refrigerate it. Roll out balls of dough and place cookie sheet (and Silpat because gosh, my life has been so much better since I started using my Silpat regularly). Flatten dough ball slightly and top with chopped pistachios or sparkling sugar.

Bake for approximately 20-25 minutes on the middle rack of your oven, until cookies are light golden. Cool. Devour.

New Year's Day Pot Pie

2013-01-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

On a New Year's Day not too long ago, the hubster and I found ourselves, laughing uncontrollably with friends as we waited in an all too long line outside our favorite San Francisco brunch joint. In hindsight, I giggle at our cliched urban yuppie'ness, what with our black, plastic-framed glases and wool peacoats. In typical downtown fashion, we'd spent the night before, having dinner in a large, boisterous group, decked out in sparkly cocktail attire. We rang in the new year under the Bay Bridge, watching the fireworks and running home in the rain.

Every now and then, there are times we begin our sentences with, "Remember when we lived in the city and...". There is something about San Francisco, with its unpretentious vibrancy, its diversity, its energy. Something almost magical.

This year on New Year's Day, we "built" a fire in our gas fireplace for an uncommonly cold Bay Area day. We made up wacky dances to Sesame Street musicals. We made silly faces, tickled little man mercilessly, and giggled too much. And at noon, when breakfast seemed so terribly long ago, I whipped up these mini pot pies. Not the dainty appetizer pot pies I'd made in the past but rather down home comfort food pot pies.

I pulled out the ramekins because it felt like the perfect day to use colored dishes. I threw in some broccoli because while it was unconventional in pot pie filling, it just seemed right to start the new year with some greens. It felt too fussy to mess with butter or shortening on a day as simple as this. So I went out on a limb and tried a simple pie crust moistened with milk and oil. And although the dough looked a bit too craggy, it all came together just so.

That's what I like about life. It's always filled with surprises. The sparkly young city life as great as the comfortable suburban existence. The New Year's Day spent out on the town equally memorable as the one at home. And the amazingly flaky five-minute pie crust any grandmother would be proud of.

Here's to more adventures, more memories, and definitely more pot pie. Happy New Year, friends. Thank you for being a part of this journey. I am so glad you are here.

Quick Pot PieCrust:
2 1/2 cups flour
2/3 cups vegetable oil
1/3 cup whole milk
1 tsp. salt
1 egg, beaten

Filling:
2 tbs. butter
2 tbs. flour
2 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup half and half
1 cup carrots, diced
1 large potato, diced
1 cup broccoli florets
Salt and pepper

Heat oven to 350 degrees.

For the crust, mix the salt and flour. Mix the oil and milk in a large measuring cup. Slowly add the liquid to the flour mixture. Knead gently until dough just comes together. It will be craggy. Do not freak out. Roll out the dough in between two sheets of waxed paper. If you are making one large pot pie, divide dough in half and roll out in two batches (you can do a top and bottom crust, or just a top crust. If you do a top crust only, you'll have half a batch of dough left over which is pretty much perfect to make a pot pie tomorrow). If you are making mini pot pies, divide dough into approximately 10 balls and roll out individually.

For the filling, parboil carrots and potatoes until they are half cooked. Put them on a plate. In the same pan, melt the butter. Slowly whisk in the flour to make a roux. Cook flour and butter mixture on low heat, stirring constantly. Whisk in the chicken stock and milk. Throw all the veggies in, including the potatoes and carrots. Cook on low heat until the veggies are cooked. Season filling with salt and pepper.

Pour filling into ramekins or one large oven-safe dish. Take off the the top piece of wax paper off the dough but leave the bottom piece of wax paper in place. Carry the dough by the bottom piece and gently place it on the dish. Brush dough with beaten egg wash. Cut a slit in the dough to let out steam. Bake for approximately 30-35 minutes until golden brown.

Crust recipe adapted from Food.com.

Bang Bang Chicken

2012-12-28T06:00:00.000-08:00

I never thought I'd say this but I may be suffering from a slight cookie overdose. I know, I know, it's basically blasphemy. But somewhere in between the Biscoff Oatmeal Cookies, the Blogger Cookie Swap, and the cookies that keep magically appearing in lunchroom at work, I think I may have developed some cookie fatigue. Yesterday, someone asked me if I wanted a cookie and I paused to consider it. I PAUSED. That has never happened. My normal reaction is somewhat akin to that of Cookie Monster where I shove the cookie in my mouth, crumbs flying everywhere, before the person has even finished asking the question.

Lest you think my cookie fatigue has resulted in a desire to eat salads, fear not food friends! A few nights ago, I had a serious hankering for Panda Express but was too lazy to change out of my pajama pants (which may or may not have green frogs dancing the Macarena) to actually get my faux Chinese food on. And so I began searching on the holy grail that is Pinterest. As a side note, how are people pinning thousands of things ranging from cute outfits to DIY projects to delicious recipes? Are they pinning in the shower? While driving? While pondering people's pinning prowess, I ran into a delicious looking picture... with a broken link. Womp Womp. The picture and name, Bang Bang Chicken, were good enough to get me a' Googlin'.

Holy heck, there are a LOT of versions of Bang Bang Chicken. I'm sure some are more authentic than others but authenticity takes a back seat when a woman's got a craving for Panda Express. So I continued perusing recipes. Peanut Sauce? Sure. Soy and sesame oil? Okay. But my personal favorite? Crispy chicken bits drenched in a sweet and spicy mayo sauce. It was oddly (and deliciously) reminiscent of Honey Walnut Shrimp, sans the candied walnuts. And as dinnertime approached, I bravely exclaimed, "Challenge accepted!" I fried up some chicken and cooked up some veggies. I know, I know. Bang Bang Chicken (or even Honey Walnut Shrimp, for that matter) is not supposed to have veggies. But I'm still feeling a bit of cookie guilt (as is my waistline) so I threw in some veggies to balance out all the sugar and butter I've eaten in the last few weeks.

The result? A perfectly comforting bowl of Chinese-takeout'esque food. All in the comfort of my frog branded pajamas.

Bang Bang Chicken
2 chicken breasts, cubed
1/2 cup mayonnaise
3 tbs. chili garlic sauce (I'm partial to the Rooster brand Sambal Oelek)
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. rice vinegar
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup panko
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
Oil
Steamed veggies of your choice

Heat a thin layer of oil in a small frying pan (you can deep fry the chicken bits but I found pan frying worked equally well). Combine the milk and egg in a bowl. Combine the flour, panko, salt, pepper, and garlic powder in a separate bowl. Bread the chicken cubes by dunking a few of them in the breading mixture, then the egg mixture, then back in the breading mixture. Continue until all chicken cubes are breaded. Fry chicken cubs in oil until golden.

While chicken cubes are frying, mix the mayo, chili garlic sauce, sugar, and rice vinegar in a separate bowl. Adjust seasoning to taste (I've also made this substituting honey instead of sugar and it's been great). Dump all of the fried chicken cubes in the sauce mixture and mix until the chicken cubes are coated.

Serve over steamed rice and veggies. Or not. I found the chicken was pretty fantastic on its own and ate many (many!) pieces while preparing my "real" chicken, rice, and veggies bowl.

Recipe adapted from A Table for Two Blog.

Cinnamon Bun Biscotti for Christmas Cookie Swap

2012-12-19T06:00:00.000-08:00

I don't celebrate Christmas. There's always a moment of utter shock when people first find out. Their eyes widen and their mouth forms a surprised O. Their shock is inevitably followed by utter sadness and sympathy. The consoling pat on the arm, the light hug, the pitying smile. And I'm forced to play along because that seems like the appropriate reaction. I smile sadly, with my eyes downcast. But truth be told, I'm kind of rejoicing at the prospect of a few days off from work. I'm thrilled to be avoiding the overcrowded malls filled with stressed out shoppers hopped up on egg nog, and good god am I glad I don't have to force my family into matching outfits for a Christmas picture. These days, it's enough of a win when we're wearing clothes NOT covered with oatmeal or mashed bananas. Planning matching outfits would likely push me over the edge.

Plus, not celebrating Christmas allows me to focus on one of my my most favorite parts of the Christmas season. The Christmas cookie swap. I am not sure who came up with this tradition but seriously, we should give that person a medal. It's utter genius to get together with your friends, eat cookies, oh, and bring more cookies home.

So when Patty suggested a blogger cookie swap, it took me approximately three seconds to agree (it would have been two but I was eating a cookie at that very moment). I mean, a cookie swap is already pretty fantastic. A blogger cookie swap? Heck, that's uber fantastic. Give a group of people who like to bake the opportunity to bake for others, throw in some Christmas wrapping, and an afternoon of chatter and laughter about food, and you can pretty much expect awesomeness. And of course, my bloggger friends did not disappoint.

We gathered on a cold rainy day in San Francisco carrying boxes of magical, delicious cheer. Our fabulous host Patty brought shortbread layered with caramel and hazelnuts, Jean brought buttery Russian tea cakes, Lisa brought thumbprint cookies covered in her amazing homemade salted caramel, Gina brought chocolate-caramel cherry thumbprint cookies, and Liren brought perfectly decadent coconut cookies (dreamed up by her daughter! Clearly, a cookie connoiseur). I was also lucky enough to meet some new blogger friends who came bearing cookie treats. Bonnie brought Chinese cornflake cookies while Rose brought mini macarons and Indian-spiced cookies.

And if all those treats weren't enough, I brought Cinnamon Bun Biscotti. I mean, my love of biscotti is fairly well documented. But I knew a blogger cookie swap demanded a more special biscotti. So there I was brainstorming on my commute home when it hit me. What if I could take the flavors of a cinnamon bun and turn them into a portable cookie? And so at about 10 p.m. the night before the cookie swap, with a kitchen covered in cinnamon and sugar, I concocted this perfectly swirled, whimsical little biscotti.

And if having a giant box of Christmas cookies wasn't enough, the good folks at Tully's sent over some of their fabulous Hawaiian blend coffee, a "bold" medium roast, which pairs perfectly with a cookie (or two or three). So don't feel bad for me friends. While I don't celebrate Christmas, I certainly celebrate Christmas cookies!

Cinnamon Bun Biscotti
2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsps. baking powder
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 tsp. salt
2 eggs
2 tsps. cinnamon
Brown food coloring

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat (god knows how I lived life without a Silpat). Whisk the flour and baking powder in a bowl. Beat sugar, butter, and salt to blend. When the sugar-butter mixture is creamy, beat in eggs, one at a time. Add the flour mixture and beat until just until blended.

Divide the dough in half. Knead the cinnamon into half the dough. Sniff your hands repeatedly and bask in their cinnamon'y scent. Now depending on the kind of cinnamon you are using, you may or may not knead to add brown food coloring. If you are using regular grocery store cinnamon, you will knead at least 3-4 drops of brown food coloring. Do not fear if you don't have brown food coloring. Start with 2 drops each green and red food coloring. Knead. Add more food coloring (in 1 drop increments) until you get a darkish brown dough. Note that you'll want the brown to be fairly dark to get a nice contrast.

Form the light-colored and brown doughs into two oval shaped discs (approximately 10 inches by 3 inches). Gently place the brown dough oval on the light-colored oval and press down. Roll the dough like you would a cinnamon bun. Press down to eliminate any air pockets. Shape the dough so you now have one log that is approximately 10 inches by 2-3 inches.

Place the log onto the baking sheet and bake until light golden (approximately 25-30 minutes). Cool for 30 minutes.

Using a serrated knife, cut the log into 1/2 inch thick slices. Arrange the biscotti cut side down on the baking sheet and bake again until gold (approximately 10-15 minutes). Trasfer biscotti to a rack and cool.

Silence

2012-12-17T06:00:00.001-08:00

Ina Garten's Shortbread Cookies for Birthdaymas

2012-12-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

Back in the third grade, the kids with birthdays during the upcoming month got to decorate our classroom's door. The September birthdays did a beach theme. The October birthdays obviously did a Halloween theme. The November birthdays broke with tradition and abandoned turkeys in favor of a baseball theme. And through it all, I patiently waited for December.

And then we found out that the December birthdays would not get to decorate the door because we were decorating the door for Christmas. It shouldn't have surprised me. Having a December birthday was the pits because my birthday was always overshadowed by Christmas. My mom would bring in cupcakes for the class (long before they forced to bring in carrot and celery sticks as birthday treats) and for a day, I'd be the awesome girl whose mom brought cupcakes. But the next day, some other mom would bring in Christmas cookies and I'd be dethroned. I'd wear my fancy birthday sweater and for a day, I'd be the one with the fabulous sweater. Until the next day when someone wore a Rudolph sweater with a real blinking nose.

Over the years, I became somewhat blase about my December birthday. The Christmas lights were more fun. The Christmas music more prevalent. And the Christmas time off was so much more life-sustaining. When I married the hubster, he tried to do all the things expected of newlywed spouses on birthdays. He planned surprise birthday parties only to realize I hate surprises. He bought jewelry only to discover I'd much rather get a new kitchen gadget (like this one, if you happen to be reading, hubster). And he sent flowers to my work only to discover I prefer my presents to be of the edible sort.

And bless his heart, he's gone with that. Every year, he makes me a birthday treat. Chocolate cream cheese cupcakes. Almond biscotti. Lemon pound cake. And coming from a man who "cooks" ramen, and makes peanut butter and Dorito sandwiches, and eats cereal out of measuring cups when I'm not around, his birthday treats make it almost bearable that come the day after my birthday, the world will again be covered in red and green tinsel.

This year, the hubster didn't ask where the cookie sheets were. He didn't ask whether unsalted and salted butter were basically the same thing. And he didn't spend hours calibrating the oven (because you know, the oven temperature must be perfect for his once a year baking session). And I, in turn, accepted that maybe birthday treats were a thing of the past now that we wake up at 3 a.m. to watch Sesame Street videos with little man and the majority of our time is spent digging through piles of laundry for that one tiny missing sock.

Until I came home to this. Shortbread cookies dipped in dark chocolate. Not just any shortbread cookies but Ina Garten's shortbread cookies. The ones with almost an entire pound of butter. The ones dipped so perfectly in "good quality" dark chocolate. So happy birthday to me. Oh and hubster? I have already begun the countdown to next year's birthday treat.

Chocolate Dipped Shortbread Cookies3/4 pound unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 to 7 ounces very good semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, mix together the butter and 1 cup of sugar until they are just combined. Add the vanilla. In a medium bowl, sift together the flour and salt, then add them to the butter-and-sugar mixture. Mix on low speed until the dough starts to come together. Dump onto a surface dusted with flour and shape into a flat disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for 30 minutes.

Roll the dough 1/2-inch thick and cut with a 3 by 1-inch finger-shaped cutter. Place the cookies on an ungreased baking sheet and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the edges begin to brown. Allow to cool to room temperature.

When the cookies are cool, place them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Put 3 ounces of the chocolate in a glass bowl and microwave on high power for 30 seconds. (Don't trust your microwave timer; time it with your watch.) Stir with a wooden spoon. Continue to heat and stir in 30-second increments until the chocolate is just melted. Add the remaining chocolate and allow it to sit at room temperature, stirring often, until it's completely smooth. Stir vigorously until the chocolate is smooth and slightly cooled; stirring makes it glossier.

Drizzle 1/2 of each cookie with just enough chocolate to coat it.

Recipe from Ina Garten.

Mexican Fried Rice and Momhood

2012-12-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

I work in an office with lots of young moms. Well three, but in a law firm, that qualifies as lots. At least once a week, we run in to each other at the microwave and commiserate over teething babies, mom jeans, and meals. Or really, lack of meals. Someone mentions how she fed her baby grapes and tofu for dinner last night. Someone else chimes in that their family ate take-out sushi for the third night in a row. And I confess that we have perfected our "recipe" for baking the perfect frozen pizza. And we all feel bad.

I don't know what it is about momhood that causes us to constantly feel bad and doubt our choices. Am I working too much? Am I not working enough? Am I too involved in my child's life? Not involved enough? Why do we have so much dirty laundry? Good god, why am I always stepping on Legos when I'm barely awake and trying to get my morning coffee on?

And in the middle of this feel-bad-fest, one of the girls looks down at my lunch bowl and comments, "I don't know how you do it." Do what? Look like a sleep-deprived gremlin? That's courtesy of little man who is STILL waking up at 3 a.m. Oh, you mean how I rock these coal-miner nails? Yup, haven't had a manicure in over a year. Ah, perhaps you were referring to my poofy hair which moves on up and out at the first sign of moisture in the air. Oh, you mean, my lunch. Why am I eating a real meal that is relatively healthy and tastes pretty fantastic and not a frozen dinner that was made in 1984 or a plastic container of odd-looking greens some of which are purple because all of a sudden, it's trendy to eat purple colored salad leaves?

Because, I really really like lunch. It's those few minutes of quiet in the middle of the day that allow me to get through it without pulling out what's left of my poofy hair. Heck, lunch is the raison d'etre of this very blog. I don't have all the answers to momhood, but I know that I like eating well. It makes me happier when my belly is full of real food. I work better when I nuke my tasty leftovers and bring them back to my desk.

Take this Mexican Fried Rice. Yes, it is basically doctored up Spanish rice. But on a Wednesday night, when you're staring into a fridge that holds a container of two day old white rice and not much else, this recipe (if you can even call it that) is pretty much a lifesaver. Grab that old rice. Oh lookie here, some leftover chicken breast. Take that too. Open up your veggie drawer and take out any forgotten veggies. Peppers, mushrooms, spinach, yup all of those things work. Rough week and nothing in the veggie drawer? Grab a bag of frozen corn from the freezer. Next, find a can of tomato sauce in your pantry. Oh look, a can of black beans. Take that, too. Heat up some oil in a giant skillet. Cook up your Mexican Fried Rice with sass!

Make extra so you have some for tomorrow's lunch. Oh, and don't let anyone eat the portion earmarked as your lunch leftovers (I'm looking at you, hubster! Eating my rice straight outta the pan!). It's tough being a working mom. So I'm going to cut myself some slack. And get another bowl of Mexican Fried Rice.

Mexican Fried Rice
3 cups cooked rice
2 tbs. tomato paste or 1/4 cup crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce
1 can black beans, drained
Assorted diced veggies (red or green pepper, mushrooms, carrots, corn) and/or cooked chicken
1/2 onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 1/2 tsps. chili powder
1 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. cayenne
Salt and pepper
Oil

Heat oil in skillet and cook onions until translucent. Add garlic and cook for a few minutes until fragrant. Add veggies and cook until soft (you may need to add a bit of water and lengthen the cooking time if you're cooking harder veggies like carrots).

Once all of the veggies are soft, add the tomato product, spices, and cooked chicken (if you're using chicken). If you're using tomato paste, you'll need to add 1/4 cup of water and mix to create a loose paste. If you're using crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce, you will need to add only a few drops of water.

Add the rice and mix thoroughly to ensure the rice is coated with the tomato and veggie mixture. Spread the rice in the pan and turn the heat on high. Do not keep stirring. Once the rice on the bottom is crispy, add a bit more oil to the pan and stir so the rice on the top is now on the bottom. Stop stirring so the rice can get crispy. Garnish with cilantro if you have it. Throw on some cheese. Heck, add some sour cream. And celebrate Wednesday.

On Blessings and Blueberry Toasted Almond Scones

2012-11-28T06:00:00.000-08:00

It's easy to count your blessings at the Thanksgiving table. That exact moment when you look around at your friends and family, dressed in their best, the table set with fine china and crowded with heaping platters of your favorite foods, you know that you are so very lucky. It's so much harder to count your blessings the week after Thanksgiving. That Sunday night, when you (um, me) have six loads of laundry to do, and you have to make lunches for the week (me again), and the baby has eaten yet another two-week old Cheerio from the carpet reminding you it's high time to vacuum (ok, also me), it's a lot harder to take a minute to look around the utter chaos and count your blessings.

That's the funny thing about blessings. They don't often announce themselves with a neon sign or with a giant blinking arrow overhead pointing, "Blessing here." And so instead, I crankily tweet about the nuttiness I encounter on public transit on my morning commute. I sigh about how we eat more than our fair share of frozen pizza (we're partial to Red Baron, in case you're curious). I complain about little man's changing sleep patterns which often lead to him waking me up for playtime at 4 a.m. And I grumble about how my baby hair is back with a vengeance.

And so this past Sunday, after the happy pandemonium of many, many loved ones gathering for Thanksgiving, eating many a decadent meal, and chattering way too much, I found some time to bake in silence and truly reflect on the many blessings in my life. And as I measured the flour and sugar for these Blueberry Toasted Almond Scones, I forced myself to admit that enduring the nutters on public transit was a small (and entertaining!) price to pay to commute to a job I loved. Blessing! Little man's grin was still awesome, even at 4 a.m. (but little man, if you're reading this, I'm sure your grin is doubly awesome, say at a more reasonable 6 a.m.). Blessing!

And as I cut in the butter, I was forced to admit that I am blessed that my poofy, out of control hair (complete with mocking baby hairs) has made a triumphant comeback after I lost handfuls of it everyday post-baby and was convinced I would soon be bald. I toasted the almonds and mixed them into the dough, along with a few drops of fragrant almond extract. After years of having to carry my laundry to a common washing room, and having to run back up three flights of stairs at least three times because I forgot the detergent, softener, and/or quarters, I am blessed that we now have a washer and dryer in our house. I carefully added the blueberries and gently dumped the dough on the floured counter. So so blessed to finally have a kitchen with more than 1/2 a counter.

And so, I baked these scones, bursting with juicy blueberries and toasted almonds. And as I watched my family eat the entire batch in one sitting, I recognized that perhaps the biggest blessing of all was that Red Baron makes a mean frozen pizza!

Blueberry Toasted Almond Scones
2 cups flour

1 tb. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

6 tbs. sugar

4 tbs. unsalted butter, cold, cut in chunks

1 cup fresh blueberries

3/4 cup heavy cream, plus more for brushing the scones

1 egg

1/2 cup sliced almonds

1/4 tsp. almond extract

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toast almonds on a hot, dry pan on the stove until lightly golden and crunchy.

Sift flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Cut in the butter with the pastry blender. Mix in blueberries and 1/4 cup of toasted almonds. In a separate bowl, beat heavy cream, egg, and almond extract. Slowly pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients. Gently knead 4-5 times until mixture comes together. Divide dough in two halves.

On a floured counter, roll each half into a rectangle (approximately 6 inches by 3 inches). Cut in half vertically, and then cut the two resulting squares diagonally so you have 4 triangular wedges. Repeat with other half of dough. Place wedges on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper or Silpat (Silpats are totally a blessing!). Brush wedges with cream and top with remaining 1/4 cup of toasted almonds. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Eat quickly while warm because blessings like freshly-baked scones don't stick around!

Yields about 8 good-sized scones.

Thankful for Chewy Biscoff Oatmeal Cookies

2012-11-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

You know how they say the way to a man's heart us through his stomach? Well good god, I must have been a man in a past life because that saying totally applies to me. I would take a food present over a wussy bouquet of flowers or some weird grandma print scarf any day. Last week, the hubster brought me half of his sandwich from lunch and I swear, I almost married him all over again. For the record, if you're going to woo anyone with half a leftover sandwich, make sure it has roasted wild mushrooms, gruyere, and caramelized leeks.

So when the hubster presented me with an entire jar of Biscoff Spread, I told him he had just covered my presents for the next few birthdays and anniversaries. What is Biscoff Spread you ask? Only the most amazing food invention ever. You know those crunchy cinnamony Biscoff cookies you get on a Delta flight? Well imagine a jar of cookies in creamy form and you have Biscoff Spread. I once got a tiny plastic sample cup of the stuff at the Fancy Food Show and I was ecstatic. To have an entire jar of the perfectly smooth, cinnamony goodness was mind boggling.

I ate a few (okay, many) spoonfuls of the spread straight out of the jar as I worked on our Thanksgiving menu. Call it brain food, if you will. The big stuff like the turkey and stuffing and potatoes were settled but something was missing. And then it dawned on me. See, we always make a few small nibbles to have out while we prepare the big meal. That way, people can take a small break from cooking the meal of the year, grab a handful of nuts or chocolates, and chat about something other than baking or broiling. There was one year where we made dinner at a bachelor friend's house and were forced to eat dry cereal straight out of the box while preparing the big meal because well, that's all he had besides the Thanksgiving fare. Well cereal and a bottle of mustard so you can see why we opted for the cereal.

Maybe the answer was to share my beloved Biscoff spread with my family. It took some mental convincing to agree to share that jar of crack, I mean, spread, but I felt it was the right thing to do in the spirit of Thanksgiving. I began searching for recipes for possible pre-giant meal nibbles and buried amidst the crazy complicated recipes for cheesecakes with Biscoff spread in the crust, filling, and topping and cupcakes with eighteen steps all involving Biscoff, I found a humble little recipe for a Biscoff Oatmeal Cookie. It sounded simple. Almost too simple.

I tested the cookies during a midnight baking session late last weekend (apologies for the dark pictures). And as soon as the cookies were finished, I ate a few in the name of quality control. And I was blown away. These might be the best oatmeal cookies you'll ever have. Chewy in the middle with perfectly crispy edges, and with a rich, deep sweetness from the brown sugar and Biscoff. Make the cookies for Thanksgiving. Crumble them up and use them to make a crust for your favorite pumpkin pie. Use them as streusel topping for your sweet potato casserole. Or better yet, leave them out in a pretty tray for people to nibble on as they prepare the big meal.

And as Thanksgiving approaches and we all take stock of our lives, I'm thankful for family and friends who humor me with food presents. And just in case it needed to be said, I'm thankful for cookies. Always thankful for cookies.

Biscoff Oatmeal Cookies
Yield: 2 dozen cookies

1 1/2 cups old fashioned oats
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, plus 2 tablespoons of flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup Biscoff Spread
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the oats, flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the butter, Biscoff spread, sugar, and brown sugar and beat on medium speed until smooth and creamy. Add the egg and vanilla extra and beat until smooth.

Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly add the dry ingredients, beating only until blended. Chill the dough 30 minutes in the refrigerator.

Form the cookie dough into rounded 1 1/2 tablespoons and place them 2 inches apart on the baking sheet. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until cookies are golden and just firm around the edges. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes and then remove with a spatula onto a cooling rack.

Adapted from Two Peas and their Pod.

Hasselback Garlic Potatoes and a Thanksgiving Giveaway

2012-11-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

*The giveaway is now closed. The winner is LisaP!*

We are a family that loves our potatoes. And nothing kicks that love into true lurve territory like Thanksgiving! Over the years, our Thanksgiving table has been graced by the likes of mashed potatoes with roasted garlic, baked potatoes with sharp cheddar, roasted potatoes with root vegetables, and sweet potatoes with streusel topping. And that was just for one year! I am not ashamed to admit there are points in time when I think I might like the potato sides more than the actual Thanksgiving turkey. Blasphemous? Maybe but we're all about honesty 'round these parts. Needless to say, I've been thinking about this Thanksgiving's potato dish(es) since February.

Hasselback potatoes have shown up on every single blog I read, are abundant on Foodgawker and Tastespotting, and have taken over my Pinterest feed. I've been intrigued by these fancy looking taters but just the thought of carefully making all those thin cuts in potatoes makes me tired. I'm more of a rough chop, couple of glugs of olive oil, a generous handful of spices, and pop into the oven kinda girl. Except well, Thanksgiving is a big deal and I wanna wear my fancy shoes to the party. Oh, and bring my fancy potatoes.

So recently, I attempted some Hasselback potatoes. All that thin, not-even-remotely-even slicing was relaxing and fun. Okay, no it wasn't fun. At all. In fact, it was a giant pain. But the finished potatoes with their perfectly crispy exterior and the moist, garlicky interior were so darn good, it was worth all that careful and painstakingly slow slicing.

The good folks at Country Crock want to make your Thanksgiving taterrific (heh!) so they're giving you an adorable set of Pumpkin Taper Holders from Williams Sonoma and a gorgeous ceramic baker and wire rack from Sur La Table. To enter, leave a comment telling me what side you're most excited about for Thanksgiving.

Thank you to Country Crock for being a sponsor. I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective. All opinions expressed here are my own.

Hasselback Garlic Potatoes
8 medium-sized potatoes of your choice (Russet, White, Red)
4 tbs. Country Crock Spread
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
Salt

Heat oven to 425 degrees. Melt Country Crock in microwave for approximately 15 seconds until melted. Add garlic to melted Country Crock. Wash potatoes and dry with a paper towel. Slice a piece of the bottom of the potato so it lays flat. Then thinly slice each potato making sure to not slice all the way through. Remember, the thinner the slices, the more delicious crispy edges. Brush potatoes with melted garlic spread mixture, making sure to get inside the sliced potato crevices. Place potatoes on greased cookie sheet and bake for 40 minutes to 1 hour, depending on the size of your potatoes, until potatoes are golden brown.

For more great Thanksgiving recipes, please visit the Country Crock Chronicle.

Baked Pumpkin French Toast (on Ugly Dining Table)

2012-11-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

When most people inherit their once-bachelor husband's furniture, they get leather couches, basketball posters, and the ubiquitous bean bag. I inherited a hideous 6 person dining table with grandma print chairs and gold trim. I mean really, what bachelor has a dinner party with their neighborhood ladies bridge group to warrant such a table?

When I asked the hubster about it, he said they used it to play poker. Riiiight. So apparently, the neighborhood grandmothers have taken to playing poker. Nice.

As soon as I saw that table, I promised myself it would never live in my house. Six years later, it still resides under my roof, mocking me with its faux wood trim.

I recently put the table on Craigslist and was shocked my inbox wasn't flooded with people clamoring to buy my one of a kind table. You know an item is hideous when you don't even get the emails from the African princes wanting to buy your fantastic item for double the asking price (in fact, the cashiers check is already on the way).

And so the table remains. And as much as I hate (really and truly HATE) to admit it, the table has come in handy in a hideous yet useful sort of way more than once. When we moved in to our new house and our movers "lost" our furniture, we were still able to have friends over for dinner because somehow, ugly table made it to the new place unscathed. When we had to host a family dinner, and we had unexpected guests, we simply added our equally ugly office chairs to the table for extra seating.

Recently, we hosted a fall brunch and I admit I contemplated sticking the table in our backyard and pulling the blinds shut so no one would see the table in its gold trimmed glory. Until the hubster talked some sense into me. He convinced me our friends like us because of who we are and because we feed them good food, not because of the kind of furniture we have. Oh, and we needed the seating.

And so, we brunched. We recounted stories of little man's escapades of the week. We drank too many cups of coffee. We laughed. We shared. And most importantly, we ate more than our fair share of Pumpkin French Toast!

This is Smitten Kitchen's Cinnamon Sugar French Toast with a delicious pumpkin'y twist! Like all her recipes, it is gloriously adaptable. Only have sourdough bread on hand? No worries. Large group of hungry friends coming over? Double the recipe. Got a raging sweet tooth? Extra cinnamon sugar to the rescue. Want it to feel like fall? Add pumpkin to the custard.

And after everybody went home, I made myself a plate of straight from the fridge French Toast and cozied up in front of my computer to catch up on my favorite blogs, like friends' pictures on Facebook, and pin random items on Pinterest. Oh, and repost that darn table on Craigslist.

Baked Pumpkin French Toast
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
16 slices white sandwich bread
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
2 1/2 cups whole milk

1/2 cup canned pumpkin puree
6 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon table salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Whisk the cinnamon and sugar together in a small dish. Line two large baking sheets with foil. Place the bread slices on the baking sheets in one layer. Spread each slice of bread with 1 teaspoon of butter, then sprinkle each slice with one teaspoon of the cinnamon-sugar mixture. Toast the trays of bread in the oven until the bread is golden, and until the cinnamon-sugar makes a caramelized crunch on top, for about 7 to 10 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 375 degrees and let the toast cool slightly.

Generously butter a 9×13-inch baking dish. Arrange the cinnamon toast down in two rows along the width of the pan. Whisk the milk, pumpkin puree, eggs, salt and vanilla in a medium bowl and pour evenly over cinnamon toast in baking dish. Let sit for 15 minutes (or overnight, if you’re preparing this ahead of time) so that the custard absorbs a bit.

Before baking, sprinkle any leftover cinnamon sugar over the French toast. Bake for 30 minutes, until puffed and golden and until no liquid seeps out of the toasts when they are nudged about in the pan.

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen.

Hipster Roasted Asparagus with Lemon and Toasted Almonds

2012-10-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

I have an irrational fear of hipsters. It scares me when a man's pants are tighter than mine and his hair has a more natural tousled look than I could ever pull off. For the record, do you know how hard it is to get that tousled look? It involves a quarter-sized dollop of hair product that costs approximately what you'd pay for an opera-singing parrot, a diffuser that looks a bit like a medieval torture device, and most importantly, that illusive light touch. In short, it takes an awful lot of time to make your hair look like you spent no time at all on it.

And what is up with those plaid shirts?!? I rocked a plaid shirt every day in the eighth grade and no one thought it was cool. Here we are, fifteen years later and some skinny dude on a yellow bicycle wears a plaid shirt and suddenly the entire city is wearing plaid shirts. What gives?!

And yet, at least once a week, I face my fears and walk to my favorite lunch spot, a place teeming with hipsters, for their fantastic roasted asparagus. Not a sandwich, not a salad (like it would EVER be a salad!), not even a dessert. No, I walk a good twenty minutes in my blisters a'plenty heels for a vegetable! I stand in line making awkward small talk about everything from bands I've never heard of to the latest flavor of kombucha (and I have yet to figure out what kombucha is). I get up to the counter and upon noticing the clerk's faded "Hope" t-shirt, feel forced to make some ridiculous, "So how 'bout them elections" type comment, before placing my lunch order which always includes an extra order of their roasted asparagus with Meyer lemon and Marcona almonds.

And then, last Thursday happened. I went through the entire oh-so-painful routine detailed above (heck, I even Googled kombucha beforehand), got to the counter, made some obligatory election reference, and placed my order. Only to be told they were out of the asparagus. Now personally, I think such a development is at least worthy of a declaration in neon lights or at least a giant Sharpie-written PSA on poster board.

So, I did what any faux-hipster would do under the circumstances. I shrugged and nonchalantly opted for another veggie side like it was no thang. But it was a thang! It was totally a thang! It was a twenty-minute-walk-in-painful-heels-and-putting-up-with-crazy-hipster-talk-in-an-absurdly-long-line thang! And it was then that I vowed to make my own fancy pants asparagus.

And that's just what I did. I didn’t have any Marcona almonds so I used regular ol’ almonds I got from the bins at my local grocery story. And to be honest, I didn’t have any Meyer lemons. Heck, I didn’t even have any fresh lemons so I just used lemon juice. And you know what? The asparagus was still fantastic. I planned on portioning these out for lunches for the week. But these spears are just so darn tasty, I couldn’t stop eating them as I was portioning. So yes, you should make a giant batch.

So sayonara hipsters, ours paths will not be crossing anytime soon. Except darn it, the lunch spot makes a fantastic roasted chicken with preserved lemons. So yes, cya later this week, hipsters. I will remember to re-Google kombucha before I come.

Roasted Asparagus with Lemon and Toasted Almonds
1 pound asparagus
2 tb. olive oil
1 tb. water
2 tb. lemon juice
1 clove garlic, minced
1 cup almonds (chopped or sliced
salt and pepper

Heat dry pan until hot and toast almonds until fragrant. Remove from heat. In the same hot pan, add oil. When hot, add garlic and cook 1 minute until garlic is fragrant. Add asparagus and water. Stir and cook uncovered until almost all of the water has evaporated. Cover pan and cook 1 minute. Uncover and stir. Cover pan and cook 1 minute. Uncover and stir. Continue this process until asparagus is tender crisp. Add lemon juice and toasted almonds. Stop eating the asparagus so you actually have enough for lunches for the next week.

Recipe adapted from American Food.

FoodBuzz Festival 2012

2012-10-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dear FoodBuzz Festival,

Like Betty White, you just keep getting better with age! In 2010, you introduced me to a Korean "taco" made with seaweed and kalbi short rib. In 2011, you made sure I could never enjoy grocery store ice cream again by introducing me to the marvel that is Three Twins Ice Cream. Okay, who am I kidding? I will still eat grocery store ice cream, ice cream truck ice cream, street vendor ice cream, and really, any other kind of ice cream. But I will forever measure it against Three Twins Ice Cream. Your 2012 Festival was even more spectacular. Here are some standouts that were too good:

1) Alaska Seafood truly convinced me that wild seafood is the way to go! The halibut in red curry sauce was cooked perfectly. The crab cakes were actually delicious, delicious crab instead of filler. And their people were just so genuine. They talked about sustainability and resource management with such passion and conviction, it was clear they weren't just marketing folk but real people who were passionate about Alaskan seafood.

2) Mission Minis is still awesome and their mini cupcakes still rock. I definitely ate more than my fair share of cupcakes. So many in fact, even the super cute kid at your booth was forced to ask, "Were you here before?" No, no I wasn't. And what's it to you anyway, you particularly observant child?

3) Biscuit Bender. Let's be real. If I'm going to on any type of bender, it will most certainly involve biscuits. Specifically, their pumpkin chocolate chip ones. Oh, and my bender will undoubtedly involve heavy smears of their many spreads, including apple butter and espresso butter.

4) Nature Box is a service that delivers a fancy box of healthy snacks to your doorstep every month. From delicious spiced nuts to crunchy fruit granola, each box is filled with tasty surprises. And yes, I'm still a bit bummed that little man has eaten almost the entire bag of dried apricots I received in my Nature Box.

5) Wallaby Organic Greek Yogurt tastes like ice cream. I know it sounds blasphemous but I think my love of ice cream is fairly well documented and when I say this yogurt tastes like ice cream, you pretty much gotta take my word for it. If they made a version with caramel sauce on the side, I may never go back to real ice cream again.

6) Madecasse is a chocolate company committed to not only farming cocoa but actually making fine chocolate in Madagascar. As a result, they are able to generate four times the amount of revenue for the farmers and manufacturers in Madagascar than farming fair trade cocoa alone. So you're actually contributing to development every time you eat their fantastic sea salt and nibs chocolate.

7) The Golden Gate Bridge. I used to live in the city and would come visit the bridge all the time. And yet, the sight of the bridge still gives me goosebumps. Walking across the bridge is a fantastic way to spend time between events, checking out the city in the distance, and burning off those extra cupcake calories. Okay, so I'd probably have to walk across the bridge eighteen times to burn off all my cupcake calories but I have no regrets!

8) The California Academy of Sciences makes for a fantastic venue for the gala dinner. Giant stuffed giraffes. A huge aquarium. Jelly fish. I dare you not to fall in love with this place.

9) An evening gala filled with fantastic party food and an overwhelmingly assortment of desserts. Allowing a +1 at the Festival was a fantastic idea. This was the first year FoodBuzz let you buy a ticket for a significant other and boy am I glad I convinced the hubster to come along because mamma needed an extra set of hands for all the eating. Now if only I could figure out some way to use his stomach too.

10) Swag Bags are still awesome! It has been a long time since I went to a party where I received a party favor bag. And that makes me a bit sad. The conference swag bag is a fun party favor bag for adults. And gosh am I glad.

A Giveaway in Honor of National Coffee Day!

2012-10-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

*Giveaway is now closed. The winner of the fantastic coffee prize pack is Susie Anderson of We Are Not Martha!*

Did you know there's a National Coffee Day?!? It's like finding out there's a day set aside just for you. Oh wait, that'd be your birthday. But you get my point. A whole day set aside for my favorite drink, no, life juice. In honor of my new favoritest day ever (sorry birthday!), the fine folks at Tully's Coffee are giving one of you beautiful people the chance to try a bag of their fantastic House Blend AND a bag of their French Roast. Heck, they're even giving you a beautiful leather journal in case their fabulous coffee inspires you to write the Great American Novel. All you have to do is mosey on over to my Facebook page, like it (because you like me, you really really like me!), and comment on the Tully's post to let me know how you like your coffee!

Disclosure: The generous folks at Tully's Coffee provided me with samples of their coffee and coffee-related products, but all opinions are my own (as always!).

Take Me To Frittata Town

2012-09-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

You wanna know what despair tastes like? Try eating four Jolly Ranchers for breakfast. The sad thing is, I love breakfast. I dream about sitting on the patio in the sun, relaxedly eating a giant plate of pancakes that are slightly crispy around the edges from having been cooked in really good butter. I dream about mornings spent poring over the newspaper with a plate of french toast, perfectly eggy with just the slightest hint of cinnamon, within arm's reach. Oh, and lets not even get into my love of beef bacon. Unfortunately, breakfast generally consists of me inhaling a cold piece of toast washed down by a luke warm mug of coffee as I run out the door hoping I'm wearing matching shoes. Don't ask.

Needless to say, my crazed morning routine means I often end up buying breakfast on my walk to the office. Allow me to introduce Exhibit A- scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, and "sourdough" bread. I'm not really sure when wheat bread changed its name to sourdough, but really wheaty, you're not fooling anyone. Oh, and why is the bread taking up most of this picture? Because sadly, it was the best thing on this plate. The eggs were rubbery and the potatoes were so dry, it was clear they were reheated from three days ago.

Oh, and the punchline? Wait for it... The breakfast plate cost $12. I get that most of this horribly inflated price is the cost of labor but really, who the heck is making this breakfast? Donald Trump?

Needless to say, this warranted my own solution for breakfast. Enter, the frittata. Serve it with a fancy salad (none of that ridiculous iceberg lettuce business, this is purely frisee territory) for a ladies brunch date, or a giant hunk of crusty bread for a comforting weeknight dinner. It is quick to make and totally customizable in about a million different varieties, limited only by the contents of your fridge and pantry (and your diabolically genius mind, of course). Caramelized onion and roasted red pepper? Yum. Asparagus and gruyere? Awesome. Corn, roasted jalapenos, and black beans? Hello! Seriously, I have yet to try a bad combination.

Our current favorite frittata happens to be a spinach, roasted garlic, and mushroom version, topped with a bit of uber-sharp cheddar. And when I say our, I mean our. The little man devoured two giant pieces last week, prompting the hubster to send me a rather desperate email titled, "Frittata for dinner plan has been thwarted."

Make a giant frittata on the weekend and you have a fantastic meal with plenty of delicious leftovers* for quick weekday breakfasts.

* Please note, leftovers are not guaranteed.

Spinach, Roasted Garlic, and Mushroom Frittata

8 eggs
10 crimini mushrooms, sliced
2 1/2 cups spinach leaves, torn
4 garlic cloves
1/2 cup whole milk
Salt and pepper to taste

To roast garlic, remove any loose outer layers from whole head of garlic. Trim 1/2 inch of the top of the head of garlic so you can see the cloves of garlic. Please trimmed head of garlic on a large piece of foil. Fold up the edges of the foil to create a pouch, drizzle garlic with oil, and scrunch up the foil pouch to completely wrap the garlic. Place pouch on a cookie sheet and bake at 400 degrees for approximately 30 minutes. Remove garlic from oven and let cool. Squeeze roasted garlic cloves out of their skin. Note you will need approximately 4 roasted garlic cloves (mashed) for this recipe. I generally squeeze the rest of the cloves out in a glass jar, cover with oil, and save in the fridge for quick pasta recipes, stir frys, and impromptu garlic breads.

Drop the oven temperature to 350 degrees.

Heat saucepan and cook spinach until wilted. Push spinach to the side of the pan and cook mushrooms. Add the four mashed garlic cloves to the pan and stir vegetables together. Season vegetables with salt and pepper.

In a separate bowl, beat eggs with milk.

Drizzle oil around the edges of the pan containing the vegetables. Carefully pour the beaten eggs around the vegetables, lifting vegetable mixture to ensure egg mixture runs underneath. Cook on low heat until edges of eggs are set (approximately 5 minutes).

Move pan to the oven and bake covered, for approximately 8-10 minutes until the eggs spring back when touched in the middle. Top with shredded cheese and broil until the cheese is browned (approximately 2 minutes). Remove the hot pan from the oven and allow to cool.

Carefully lift the frittata out of the pan (I often flip it out on a plate and then flip it on another place to ensure the gorgeous browned cheese is on the top). Slice in to 8 slices.

12 Tips for Making it Through the First 12 Months

2012-09-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Friend,

Congratulations on the news of your upcoming bundle of joy! You asked for some tips because you thought I was handling motherhood with such grace. My apologies for snorting and gracefully spraying coffee through my nose at you. You are such a kind soul and I really hate to burst your fuzzy "Yay, I'm pregnant and my life will look like the pages of a Pottery Barn Kids catalog" bubble.

Little man has been in my life for twelve whole months and while that certainly does not make me qualified to dispense child rearing advice (like that ever stopped anyone on the internets!), I think it does warrant twelve observations on motherhood. So here goes:

1) Adjust your love affair with food. Because truth is, you will never eat a hot meal again. In fact, the majority of your meals will consist of half eaten pieces of bread, cold lumps of scrambled eggs, and squished slivers of cheese covered in carpet fuzz. Consider it the best weight loss strategy ever!

2) Don't focus on looks alone. Your skin will be wrinklier, your hair frizzier, and your face bumpier. And you will know that your friends are lying through their teeth when they say motherhood looks gorgeous on you. But bask in their compliments anyhow.

3) Appreciate the kindness of strangers. There will come a time when your kid is covered in sticky orange goop from gnawing on a dried papaya spear at the grocery store. He will scream bloody murder when you try to take said spear away from him so you can pay for it. And a kindly checkout clerk will tell you it's no big deal because it's only one goopy spear (okay, half of a goopy spear because that baby can eat, even without teeth). You will want to cry at the generosity of said cashier. Do not do so because between you and the baby, one blubbery mess is enough. But do thank the kind cashier. Oh, and smile.

4) Don't set the bar crazy-high. There will be days you will be forced to feed your darling baby microwave-nuked meatballs from Costco. It doesn't matter if he's only had homemade organic purees up to this point. It also doesn't matter if you grow your own vegetables, make, and can your own artisanal sauces. The day of Costco meatballs will come and you need to accept it. Serve the meatballs with a side of homemade, free-trade quinoa if that makes you sleep better.

5) Learn to function on limited sleep. You will never need an alarm clock post-baby. Doesn't matter if the baby slept at 6 p.m. or 12 a.m. He will wake up at 5 a.m. so stop watching that episode of Downton Abbey and go to bed because "morning" is just five hours away!

6) Embrace all kinds of fashion. You know those teenage girls at the mall in their pajama bottoms? There may be something to that fashion trend after all, especially on a "morning" where you were up until 3 a.m. catching up on episodes of Downton Abbey.

7) Be prepared. Put a blazer in your trunk. In fact, throw an extra shirt, pair of jeans, and shoes in too. You never know when you'll find yourself in the middle of a pootastrophe or barfageddon.

8) Practice good hygiene. Invest in large quantities of hand sanitizer, baby wipes, washcloths, and club soda. Oh, and long fingernails which are great for scraping off dried baby cereal and other gunk on your clothes. Especially when the baby decides to rub his strawberries-and-cereal-smeared face into your shirt right before you need to leave for work.

9) Become an optimist. If the baby throws up on you one second after you've taken him out of the car and two seconds before you enter the house, that is a victory. It is really hard to get puke off of car seats and carpet. Trust me.

10) Don't judge other moms. Sure, it's easy to pass judgement on the mom plying her kid with Cheetos but we are all just doing our best to make it to tomorrow. And for the record, they sell all "natural" baby veggie straws that are quite tasty and a great distraction. Not that you should ever use food as a distraction.

11) Give yourself a break. You want to make your kid the perfect first birthday cake because that's your job as mom. There is a remote possibility said first birthday cake may look like a hot mess vaguely resembling a birthday cake (see above). Oh, and the picture may turn out blurry. Your kid will still enjoy tearing into it while you mentally freak out over the amount of processed white sugar he is eating.

12) Despite all of the above, motherhood is still the best gig ever.

Sincerely,
L(cubed)

It's Jam'mer Time!

2012-08-09T06:00:00.000-07:00

I am going to do you a huge favor. Not a "Let me do your laundry" kind of favor, or even an "I'm running to the store. Do you need anything?" sort of favor. In fact, this is a favor truly deserving of my cheesy (and awesome!) reference to MC Hammer's "It's Hammer Time." I am going to introduce you to the Dessert Toast. Say what?! Dessert Toast. One part breakfast, one part dessert, all parts delicious.

See, a few years ago, we were having breakfast with our cousin, Adnan Bhai.* Eggs, toast, potatoes. Delicious but ordinary. At the end of breakfast, Adnan Bhai proudly announced that it was time for Dessert Toast. The hubster and I looked at him confusedly. So Adnan Bhai explained that Dessert Toast was to breakfast what dessert was to, well everything else. In short, a perfect, sweet treat to end the meal. It was sheer genius.

Needless to say, the Dessert Toast has earned itself a regular spot in our breakfast rotation. And in case you have any shred of doubt, I demand you toast a piece of bread (preferably sourdough or something with some bite), slather on some salted butter (quickly, while the bread is still hot), smear on a thick layer of jam (and by thick, I mean thick. This ain't no diet food), and devour immediately. And there you have it. Dessert Toast.

Sounds pretty much perfect already right. Except well, there's Dessert Toast of the Smucker's variety. I like to call that weekday Dessert Toast. And then there's Dessert toast of the homemade jam, spoon-jam-shamelessly-into-your-mouth-while-your-bread-is-toasting variety. I like to call that weekend Dessert Toast. See, I lucked into one such bottle of homemade Strawberry Lemon Jam courtesy of the fantastic Lisa of Authentic Suburban Gourmet. Needless to say, the jar didn't last long.

Like any addict, I consoled myself with Smucker's until one fine day, Lisa and the amazing Gina of SP Cookie Queen offered to teach a few friends how to make jam. Make jam? As in, lower fruit-filled glass jars into boiling hot water? Count me in! And so, a few fabulous friends gathered one fine Saturday to cut, boil, and preserve pounds of fantastic summer fruit. We snacked, laughed, and most importantly, jammed.

By the end of the afternoon, we were proudly staring at dozens of jars of homemade Fig Balsamic Jam, Vanilla Santa Rosa Plum Jam, Nectarine Blueberry Jam, and my personal kryptonite, Strawberry Lemon Jam. So for the next little while, I'm stocked up for some fantastic weekend Dessert Toast. Until the jam disappears, of course. Much like poor MC Hammer's Hammer Pants.

For more fantastic posts on the jam-making process, please see posts from my jam-making friends:

1) Kitchen Confidante- Fig Balsamic Jam
2) Lemons and Anchovies- Nectarine Blueberry Jam
3) Baking Barrister- Vanilla Santa Rosa Plum Jam

4) SP Cookie Queen- Blood Orange Jam (which we didn't make but looks fantastic)

5) Authentic Suburban Gourmet- Tomato Jam (also didn't make this but a savory jam?! Oh Hello!)

*Note names have been changed to maintain confidentiality. Although really, if I came up with the concept of Dessert Toast, I would demand credit be given where it was due. Heck, I'd patent it. Wait, can I still patent it?!

Strawberry Lemon Jam
2 lbs. strawberries
2 cups of sugar
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tbs. lemon zest

Hull and roughly chop strawberries. Add to saucepan with sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest. Cook until strawberries break down. Continue cooking if you like your jam to be smoother. I prefer my jam to be slightly chunky. Especially because I sometimes use the jam as an ice cream topping. But that is another genius post altogether.

Prep jam jars ahead of time. Once the jam puree is ready, fill jars, leaving approximately 1 to 1 1/2 inches of room at the top. Seal by dunking into boiling water. Note that the process of jamming is a bit more complicated than "seal by dunking into boiling water" and I really recommend you read one of the jamming posts I've listed above before embarking on your jamming adventure.

Ensure jars are sealed properly. Decorate with pretty labels and ribbons. Give out as gifts. Or hoard for yourself. Your call.

The Perfect Chicken Korma

2012-05-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

I spend a lot of time planning for the perfect time. When it's the perfect summer day, I will wear my cute, floppy gardening hat and plant rose bushes on both sides of the walkway leading to my house. When I have the perfectly furnished and decorated house, I will host a fabulous dinner party. And when I have a perfectly free weekend, I will spend the day with my mom, drinking countless cups of chai, learning to cook the amazing recipes from my childhood, and cackling about all sorts of random mother-daughter matters. But the problem is, that perfect day never comes.

It's always a bit too overcast to garden, too cluttered to host a dinner party, and too busy to just hang out with my mom. But there will come a day when my knees ache too much to garden (heck, that day might be next week because my knees hurt!) and when I am too old to cook for large groups of friends, laughing and hanging out in our home. And worst of all, a day when my mom can't hang out. I notice how it takes her longer to get up from her chair, how she can't pick up our heavy little man as easily, and how she pauses on the landing when climbing the stairs. Her eyes look a little more tired, her skin a bit more weathered. She's still the same feisty mom though, with her deep-rooted love of fancy handbags, fine restaurants, and overly dramatic Pakistani soap operas. But there's no denying that my mom is getting older.

It has taken a long time for me to be able to admit that. I fully recognize that I am getting older, my family is growing, my career is developing, and my world views are changing. But I have the hardest time admitting that while all of that is happening, my mom is getting older.

And so this past Sunday, I decided it was the perfect day for a mom-day. It didn't look perfect at all. It was pouring rain, I had a bit of a cold, and we had run out of the good loose leaf tea I like to brew for chai. But my mom and I forged ahead. We turned up the heat in our house, I tucked a handkerchief in my sleeve to address my runny nose situation granny style, and we brewed a giant pot of chai using some not-so-great tea bags. And somehow, hanging out with my mom in the kitchen was perfect all on its own. We laughed about my aunt's brave foray into the world of blonde hair highlights. We chattered about my doctor-cousin's decision to go on tour with his punk rock band. And I asked her to teach me to make her chicken korma. The one I'd been eating for years. The one I'd tried to replicate a million times. The one whose very smell was synonymous with my mother's kitchen.

My mom painstakingly set out the ingredients. As I watched her methodical movements, I was struck by her preparation. Maybe my korma never turned out like hers because I insisted on frantically rifling through cabinets for missing ingredients while things were burning on the stove. Or maybe, it was just because I didn't have her touch.

My mom says the trick to making the perfect korma is to relax and go slow. Forget about relaxing and actually going slow, just writing about going slow makes neurotic, tightly-wound me feel agitated. But I took a few deep breaths and backed up a few steps and watched the cooking master in action. I watched her brown the onions, lovingly add the spices, slowly mix in the yogurt. And I saw her watch the korma carefully as the color turned from pale to golden brown.

The truth is, my korma will never be perfect. But all those Sundays spent with my mom, learning how to make her korma, certainly will be.

Chicken Korma

1 onion, thinly sliced
2 tbs. Greek yogurt
1/2 tsp. pureed ginger
1 tsp. pureed garlic
2 tbs. tomato paste
Oil

2 cinnamon sticks, broken into pieces
1/2 tb. ground corriander
1/2 tb. ground cumin
1/2 tb. cayenne
1/2 tb. curry powder
4 whole cloves
4 whole peppercorns
2 cardamom pods, smashed
Salt

2 medium chicken breasts, cut in strips
1 medium potato, cut in medium cubes
2 hard-boiled eggs (optional)
Chopped cilantro

Heat approximately 3 tablespoons oil in a pot. Add onions, sprinkle with salt, and fry until onions are light golden in color. Remove onions from heat. Add 2 tablespoons yogurt and fried onions to blender and blend until slightly chunky in consistency (you may need to add 1/4-1/2 cups of water if the onion/yogurt mixture is too thick to blend).

Heat another 3 tablespoons of oil in same pot. Add pureed ginger and garlic and fry for a few seconds. Add tomato past and continue frying mixture over low to medium heat. Add all ground spices (and salt to taste) and continue frying (you may need to add 1/4 cup water to get the mixture to a paste-like consistency).

Add onion/yogurt mixture to spice paste 1/4 cup at a time. It is important to keep stirring and not add the onion/yogurt mixture too fast or the heat will cause the yogurt to curdle.

Add potato cubes and 1/2-1 cup of water to korma. Cover and lower heat to simmer to allow potatoes to cook thoroughly. In a separate pot, heat 2 tablespoons of oil and add whole spices (cinnamon stick pieces, cloves, cardamom, and peppercorns). Fry spices for 1-2 minutes until fragrant. Add chicken breast and cook chicken half way.

When the potatoes in the korma are almost cooked, add the oil mixture with the whole spices and chicken breast. Stir the korma and add the lid again. Continue cooking the korma at a low simmer until potatoes and chicken are cooked completely. Top with halved boiled eggs and chopped cilantro if you wish.

Serve with basmati rice or naan or with whole wheat toast or sourdough bread or or or. The korma is supremely tasty and the carbs are mostly just a vehicle to get the korma into your mouth as fast as possible.

Fancy Pants Mediterranean Roasted Cauliflower

2012-04-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

I did it. I sold out. I bought myself a pair of fancy-shmancy pants for no reason other than the fact that they made me look taller and thinner. And when you're 5'1 and have just had a baby, you will not think twice about handing over your credit card for the opportunity to look taller and thinner. Heck, you'll pretty much give your right arm to appear taller and thinner.

In my defense, I was ambushed by the world's best salesperson. Who told me I looked great in these pants. That the cotton was picked specifically for me, that some poor person toiled over each stitch, and lovingly ironed the perfect cuff at the bottom, all for me. In short, these pants had only one wish left and they wished I would take them home.

In hindsight, there are so many things that are wrong with these pants. For one, they are utterly impractical. They're the oddest blend of casual and formal- too casual for work and too formal for Target. And let's be real, I don't have much use for pants that are non-work or non-Target appropriate. Second, these pants aren't black or denim. Now really, why would anyone buy pants that are neither black nor denim? Don't answer that. Oh, and the kicker? I swear the price tag has one more digit than it's supposed to. I'm sure of it.

And this after knowing full well that the clothes don't make the person. That good people are good people, regardless of what they wear. That you should not fall for silly salesperson tricks, especially when you're on a sugar high from having had a giant Cinnabon washed down with a giant frappucino. That it's silly to spend absurd amounts of money on trendy clothes because they'll go out of style in one season. That's it's wisest to spend money on classic and versatile pieces that will stand the test of time.

And after all that, I still grin when I see those pants hanging so perfectly and gorgeously in my closet. I swear, they even make my closet look taller and thinner.

And having realized the absurdity of all of the above, there was nothing left to do this past weekend but make something somewhat healthy and lowfat to fit into the aforementioned pants. Introducing Mediterranean Roasted Cauliflower. Coated in good olive oil and sprinkled with kosher salt and garlic, this is quite possibly the simplest and most delicious cauliflower recipe ever. The florets are baked at a high temperature until they're tender and the edges are perfectly charred and crispy. Oh, and something magical happens to the garlic when roasted. Eaten as a main course or a perfectly luxurious side dish, it's definitely going to be my go-to vegetable for the next long while.

Your turn to come clean. What was the last purchase you felt silly and yet, perfectly content, about?

Mediterranean Roasted Cauliflower

1 head cauliflower
2-4 cloves garlic
1 tsp. onion powder
Kosher salt
Pepper
Olive oil
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh parsley (or herb of your choice)

Heat oven to 425 degrees.

Cut cauliflower into florets. Grate garlic cloves on a microplane and mix with olive oil to make a runny paste. Add onion powder, salt, and pepper to garlic oil mixture. Stir oil mixture. Pour oil over cauliflower florets and toss to coat.

Spread cauliflower mixture on large baking sheet in a single layer. Bake for 10 minutes and stir cauliflower to avoid scorching. Bake for another 10 minutes. Poke floret with fork to ensure it's cooked. Broil for 2-4 minutes, peering impatiently through oven window to ensure that your delicious cauliflower doesn't burn.

Remove from oven. Mix in fresh herbs. Eat immediately, burning roof of mouth.