D will tell you – if somewhat tiredly – that I am loath to make the same dish twice. Maintaining this site means constantly searching for new recipes to tell you about, and returning to an old favorite means passing up the opportunity for a new dish, which, if we love it, means a new post. Aside from re-testing recipes I’m planning to blog, I’ve settled into a somewhat maddening pattern of behavior: I make a recipe, love it, rave about it, promise to add it into the rotation, and then blithely move on to something unfamiliar, leaving the old-new favorite on the (overloaded) back burner for eternity. If I could break that habit just once, it’d be for these jerk chicken sandwiches.
It started the way no other jerk chicken story has ever started: with rolls. Before jetting out of the house on Friday morning, I glanced in the fridge and probably uttered an expletive as I realized I’d forgotten that I’d put up pizza dough the previous day, hoping to make pizza when I got home from work. I didn’t get home till 9, and neither did D, making pizza night unrealistic. But the dough had fully risen in the fridge, and I’d have hated to waste it. So I threw caution to the wind, punched it down, and formed it into rolls. Rolls that turned out seriously, honestly, delicious. They were so good, I made a second batch.
The good thing about serving rolls for dinner is that you don’t need to make challah. Sometimes, there just isn’t enough time for that. Having crossed that off my list, I started brainstorming what our guests might like to eat on/in their rolls. That’s when I remembered this jerk chicken recipe I’ve wanted to make for ages. Sure enough, you could make it in the crock pot – easy! – and you were meant to eat it atop crusty French rolls, which by some miracle I now had.
Done.
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DC may not have local lemons. It may not have a growing season nearly as long as its sub-Mason-Dixon-Line location would suggest. But it does have beautiful spring produce, and it’s out in all its glory for one precious month. (Isn’t it ironic, then, that just last week I discovered a great new way to prepare beets, and can’t stop, despite this being the moment to obsess over asparagus? Sigh. Beet recipe to come.) In last week’s three-market crawl, I saw beautiful asparagus, but also ramps and strawberries, and even some first-of-the-season tomatoes. And of course, I also saw plenty of beautiful, red rhubarb.
Suspend your disbelief that that the reddest rhubarb I found was $7/lb. That’s an obscene price. And no, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being appalled at the price of farmers’ market produce; I’m not looking for $5 brisket, but just because it’s local and sustainable doesn’t mean I need to spend $20 to buy enough rhubarb for one pie. Off the soapbox: there are more reasonably priced stalks to be had. Last week I bought a big bunch from Dupont – I think from New Morning Farm – at roughly $4/lb, and earlier this week proceeded to make what is most certainly my new favorite way to use the stalks. I’m sure you’re as surprised as I am that it involves like half a pound of butter. Sometimes, the world is cruel that way. A few extra laps at boot camp, and all that jazz. These bars are worth it.
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Asparagus are everywhere right now, and I’m pretty sure they’re at their peak. I saw them at three different farmers’ markets this week (why I went to three different farmers’ markets this week is another story entirely), and most every farmer had them wrapped in nice, tight bundles of 1/2-1 pound each. There are long, skinny ones and short, stubby ones. I’ll happily eat them all.
If going to 3 farmers’ markets in one week isn’t absurd enough for you, I currently have about six pounds of asparagus in my fridge. Yes, I’m crazy. But the season isn’t very long, and I need to get my fix while I can – not to mention put up a few pounds as pickles.
I have one little bundle of purple asparagus – beautiful, sturdy little things – from Smucker Farms. Smucker Farms is an Amish market at 14th and V. It’s relatively new, and they’re carrying beautiful produce, jarred goods, meat and dairy from local growers and producers. (No, I’m not counting them as one of the markets I visited last week. Yes, I know I’m nuts.) Their asparagus and strawberries looked especially good last week, so I brought home both, along with some chevre.
I couldn’t wait on those purple asparagus – they found their way into my eggs the very next day. But this weekend, I did tuck into my massive collection of green asparagus to make this beautiful tart. To my taste, it’s got the perfect ratio of vegetable to custard – just enough egg mixture to hold the vegetables together – and it tastes unmistakably of Spring. I think it’d be perfect on your Mothers’ Day brunch table tomorrow.
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Leeks aren’t exactly a spring vegetable – they’ve been at the market most of the winter – but spring brings those young, skinny leeks, seemingly born anew in the warm weather, and I positively love them.
It takes a while to soften the big, sturdy leeks of winter, but the spring ones submit almost effortlessly, melting into butter just like shallots would. After not long at all, the leeks are impossibly mild and sweet. They make everything better.
I tucked this first batch into a bowl of just-cooked wheatberries. I left the two to mingle for a few minutes, as the wheatberries went from steaming hot to just warm. Meanwhile, I snipped some fresh chives and poached an egg the control freak way. And then, I sat on our deck, broke my egg over the wheatberries, and ate lunch.
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I first had sushi when I was 12. I was at summer camp, and we took a trip into the city for the day. My friends – far more cosmopolitan than I – had been missing sushi ever since their parents dropped them off at Camp Ramah, and I, never having encountered the stuff, was nonetheless eager to tag along and discover the magic. The bus dropped us off at Faneuil Hall, and from there, we set out to find a sushi bar. Find one that’s crowded, they advised, as we walked along the side streets poking our heads into various Japanese restaurants. Never eat sushi if the restaurant’s empty.
When we finally found a crowded enough spot that they were satisfied, we sat down, wiped our hands, and prepared to eat. I was excited and curious – and they were downright giddy, thrilled to witness the first time I popped a piece of raw fish in my mouth. It was a tuna roll – that’s where I started. And admittedly, I was afraid I wouldn’t like the texture, so I sort of just swallowed it whole. And then coughed. A lot. They cackled away; it was a grand time.
While the tuna maki is what sticks in my mind from that day, it was also the first time I tried miso soup, seaweed salad, and ohitashi. In fact, before that day, I’d never heard of any of the things we ate. Miso was a foreign concept, seaweed salad sounded awful (until I ate it), and ohitashi – well, my friend Jess ordered it, and I literally had no idea what’d be landing on our table. But out came a bowl of spinach, dressed with something delicious. And that, I happily gobbled right up – no gulping or coughing involved. I was hooked.
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by rivka
on April 24, 2012
It’s hard enough to believe that four springs have come and gone since I started this blog. What’s even harder to believe, though, is that I’ve never shared this recipe with you. Just ask D: I make it about once a week when asparagus are in season, toting it to work as often as I dish it out for dinner (though it really isn’t nearly as good the day after). It’s a meal in a pot; it takes about 30 minutes, start to finish; and it calls for asparagus, which by now you know is a virtue I hold above most others.
Asparagus risotto: pretty straightforward. You’re probably seeing it on restaurant menus everywhere, as I have been. Being slightly particular about my spears, I really dislike when restaurants bury them beneath a heap of rice. Asparagus are wonderful because if you cook them properly, they get crunchy and slick on the outside, coated just so with butter or olive oil, dusted with salt and pepper, completely irresistible. If you add them to risotto too early, they lose their oomph. So I’ve taken to this slightly more finicky (but no more complicated) approach, which keeps the two components of the dish mostly separate until they hit the table, leaving it to the diner to fold rice and asparagus together per their preference.  It also makes for a more dramatic presentation, the pool of creamy rice accented with a burst of green on top, and of course, the requisite shower of grated Parmesan.
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by rivka
on April 17, 2012
Spring sprang early in Washington. The weather is still bouncing from windy to warm to steamy to shivering and back again, but the days are longer, the sun shines most every day, and this week, we’ve already had a couple days north of 80 degrees. I’m told spring vegetables are nearly ready to pick. The guys at Toigo Orchards told me the asparagus are about 4 inches long. Prepare yourselves: if history tells us anything, it’s I may have trouble posting about much else. Still, I’m pretty excited that the market has things other than beets and kale.
Ramps hit the market a couple weeks ago, and while I’ve decided perhaps they’re unworthy of cultish obsession, I did buy a couple bunches. Now that Passover’s over, I’ll bake up a batch of these cheesy scones with ramps, which I made and loved last year. Last week, I blitzed them into this ramp pesto, which accompanied us faithfully into last summer. And now that we’ve got a deck (more on that in a moment), I’m picturing grilled whole fish, shmeared with the stuff, finished with lemon. It doesn’t get much better that that.
So….we have a deck. As of last weekend, that deck has an L-shaped couch perfect for cozying up with a book; an actual dining table with room for 6 or 8, the better to share the sun and fun with loved ones; and three big planters, in which I’ll just planted thyme, dill, basil, cilantro, parsley, mint, and carrots. We spent this weekend outside, on the deck and in the park. We’ve started looking at grills, and while I haven’t quite made up my mind in the ages-old charcoal-vs.-gas debate, I’ve got my eye on an inexpensive smoker to accompany whichever grill we do end up buying. We’re so close to homemade bbq, I can taste it.
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by rivka
on April 12, 2012
I’ve been collecting these little links and iphone shots for a while now, planning to share them during a particularly slow cooking week. That up there is a little dish I riffed after our meal at Lupa – it’s salsify, braised in citrus and butter. It was delicious. Passover is usually quiet in the kitchen, though this week I’ve cooked a bunch: crisp-skinned roast chicken, beets with pesto vinaigrette, and my favorite Passover cookies. I’d tell you to check in for (another)Â chicken post later this week, but sadly that’s on hold, as I tried to spatchcock a bird for D’s birthday but people, I cut the wrong side of the chicken. Would you judge me if I posted pictures of a bird spatchcocked backward? Breasts on the bottom, legs on the sides – really, totally, backward. Â No less delicious, but sort of goofy-looking. I can’t quite bring myself to share it. Meanwhile, I figure it’s time I shared all these with you. Â Enjoy, and happy holidays.
The genius Kristen Miglore on moderation, April Bloomfield’s new book, and a lemon caper dressing I will be making asap: “It’s the simple law of diminishing returns. Grown-ups know better than to pack a whole avocado in their salad, lest they compromise the pleasure of finding a single slice in the bottom of the bowl. ‘It’s the difference between giving people what they think they want and giving them what will be truly amazing,” Bloomfield explains in the book.'”
Tamar Adler’s inspiring video on roasting the vegetables you’ll need for the week all at once. I’ve used this technique a couple times now, and it’s really perfect. I love having roasted chunks of beets, carrots, cauliflower, parsnips, and more, all at the ready for a grain or salad dish.
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