One of the things I miss the most about Chicago is the Greek family diner. It’s essentially your typical coffee shop kind of restaurant (think Denny’s or Shari’s) but owned by a Greek family so there’s plenty of Greek  foods on the menu. It’s not unusual to get a spanakopita (Americanized by calling just calling it spinach pie) and fries or a gyro platter (pronouncing it with a hard “j” sound like it is a spinning top, of course) at the same time someone else at your table is getting steak and eggs. It’s a phenomenon that I just haven’t seen replicated with such fervor anywhere else. Yes, including you Salt Lake with the run of Greek family owned fast food chains– just not the same as the sit down diner experience. Then again, I’m not sure why I’m describing this in such detail when anyone who hasn’t been to Chicago can get the basic idea by watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

What does this have to do with meatloaf you ask? Well if you’re ignorant like me who only learned this a couple of years ago while watching Alton Brown, gyros are essentially giant meat loaves: ground meat, spices, garlic, and onions are formed into a large loaf and roasted on a spit. The meat is thinly shaved off of the roast for your sandwich. I just thought it was thin slices of a lamb roast cooked on a griddle, perhaps because the gyros I grew up around were overcooked, practically crispy pieces of lamb meat. I don’t think I truly had a gyro until law school: there’s a fabulous Middle Eastern restaurant in the U District whose gyros I crave because the texture of the thin slices are so soft and tender, somehow holding together while driving it home that the slices are actually made up of tiny, juicy morsels of ground meat.

So one night, I tried to combine the best of two worlds, by making a gyro platter of my own, only hoping that my gyro would be more of the texture of the gyro I love from here in Seattle. What’s that pictured above you ask? Well, instead of making regular potato fries, I had a bunch of purple potatoes from the CSA that week so I tried making salt and vinegar potato chips out of them for my platter. These potato slices were thinly sliced (about 1/8 of an inch), tossed with some olive oil, salt and pepper then roasted at 400 degrees for about 20-30 minutes, flipping them over about halfway through cooking. They were finished with a liberal dousing of malt vinegar, more salt and red pepper flakes. (I say this here since these were not the star of this post.)

I thought that maybe I could recreate the gyro cooking process by forming a meatloaf out of ground lamb, cooking it in my oven then delicately shaving off slices, you know, since I don’t seem to have a giant rotisserie spit in my kitchen. Not a bad idea, but, well, let’s just say that I didn’t want an overly dry meat loaf, so when it looked like it was done cooking and had a nice caramelization on the outside, it was probably too moist. I just couldn’t shave off tender, thin slices– getting large crumbles instead. I got frustrated and ended up just cutting the loaf into slices, figuring I’d call this a Greek meatloaf sandwich and pretend I meant to do it that way. So uh, yeah– forget everything I just said.

No matter what you call it, this was so delicious. The meat was tender and juicy, a little spicy from a dash of cinnamon and cumin, which contrasted beautifully with the creamy, cucumber cool tzatziki. It may not have worked as envisioned, but it still presented prettily, don’t you think?

• 1 lb ground lamb
• 1 small onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced, divided
• 1 tbsp cumin
• 1 tbsp Montreal steak seasoning
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 2 tsp dried oregano
• pitas
• 1 cup baby spinach leaves
• 1 cup Greek style yogurt
• 1 tsp fresh mint, chiffonade
• 1 tsp parsley, chopped
• 1 small cucumber, peeled and diced
• juice of half a lemon
• salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the ground lamb, onion, 2 minced garlic cloves, cumin, cinnamon, oregano, and steak seasoning. Mix together using your hands until just combined. On a foil lined baking sheet, shape the meat mixture into a loaf shape, about 3 inches wide in diameter. Cook for about 30 to 40 minutes or until a meat thermometer registers about 325 degrees F. Remove and let sit before you slice.

While the lamb loaf is cooking, combine the yogurt, parsley, mint, cucumber, lemon juice, 1 minced garlic clove, and the salt and pepper in a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper to taste. You can also make a Greek salad by combining a couple of chopped and peeled cucumbers, a handful of halved cherry tomatoes, a handful of Kalamata olives, and a sliced small red onion with a dressing made up of lemon juice, olive oil, and lots of fresh mint and parsley. Don’t forget to fold in some crumbled Feta.

To assemble the sandwiches, cut the meatloaf into 1 inch thick slices. Put a little bit of tzatziki sauce at the bottom of a pita then add a couple of slices of meatloaf (or more if you like a big, Dagwood style sandwich, I suppose.) Top with more tzatziki and some spinach leaves. Serve with lots of napkins!

CSA Count: 3 (boost it up to 5 when you include the sides)

Cucumber, onion, garlic (purple potatoes, sungold cherry tomatoes)

Eggplant. People seem to either love it or hate it with equal passion. Me? I’m on the love side. But then again, I admit that I love bread and popcorn because either is a medium for fat and salt. Perhaps that’s the underlying reason for my eggplant love?

I just love the soft texture of the flesh, the way it gets translucent. I love how it’s kind of sweet but the seeds are slightly bitter for a complexity of flavor. I love it whether it’s just stir fried with hot peppers and ground pork, or when it’s stuffed with shrimp and coated in a black bean sauce at dim sum, or when it’s roasted and mashed in a baba ganoush. And when it’s breaded, fried and covered in marinara sauce and cheese– really, how could you not love it too?

• 1 large eggplant, sliced into 1/4 inch rounds
• olive oil
• 1.5 cups bread crumbs
• 1 cup flour
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• 2 tsp dried oregano
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan, plus another 2-3 tbsp
• salt and pepper
• 8 oz fresh mozzarella
• 1 jar tomato sauce
• 2 tbsp fresh basil, chiffonade

Take your eggplant slices and lay them out in a colander. Lightly salt them and let them sit for at least 20 minutes to drain out some of the water. Pat them dry.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. In a large skillet, heat 2 tbsp olive oil over medium high heat. In a medium shallow bowl, beat the eggs. Place the flour on a plate. On another plate, combine the bread crumbs, oregano, 1/2 cup Parmesan, and garlic powder. Take about half the eggplant slices and dip as follows: 1 pass through the flour, 1 dip in the egg, a second pass through the flour then coat in the bread crumbs. Place the breaded egg plant in the hot oil, being careful not to crowd the pan. Fry for 3-4 minutes on each side, or until golden brown, adjusting the heat if necessary to keep from burning. Set on paper towel lined plate to drain any extra oil and lightly salt and pepper to taste. Repeat with the other eggplant slices.

In a large baking dish, lay out 1/3 of the eggplant slices. Cover with 1/3 of the tomato sauce and 1/3 of the mozzarella. Repeat, adding the extra tablespoons of grated Parm to the final layer of cheese. Bake for 30 minutes and top with the fresh basil.

CSA Count: 2

Eggplant, fresh basil

Maybe it’s because I just spent this morning out in the rainy, foggy cold, or maybe it’s because I just had the most delicious beef stew dinner at a friend’s house on Sunday, but I don’t think any of you will take much convincing if I were to officially declare it stew season. When it’s cold and damp outside, I can think of few more comforting ways to spend an evening than curled up with a bowl of delicious, fork tender braised meat and a whole lot of vegetables.

So why not mix it up every now and then with a twist on your average beef stew? In this case, I made this stew after seeing country style pork ribs on wicked cheap sale at Amazon Fresh– seriously, I think I bought 2 lbs for $2.37 or something ridiculously close to that. Add to it the fact that the CSA had once again unloaded a pound plus of tomatillos on me as well as some green bell peppers and I got inspired to try making a Mexican style pork stew of sorts.

I can’t quite bring myself to call this a chili verde since I doubt that anything I did here is authentic, and besides– doesn’t that call for roasted poblano peppers or something? But this still was a delicious, warming, and filling meal, especially when served on a plate of rice. The broth was slightly thick and spicy, as the braising liquid for the pork consisted of chicken stock, jalapenos, and a whole bunch of aromatics in the form of sweet onions, celery, fresh thyme and oregano. Large chunks of bright green bell pepper and fresh carrots added a touch of flare to the lime green stew. Lastly, roasting the tomatillos then pureeing them with lots of cilantro, some lime juice and jalapeno thickened the sauce as well as gave a slightly smokey taste which livened the tender pork meat. I bet you could wrap this up with some Spanish rice in a tortilla for a hearty meal, another twist on the traditional bowl of stew that’s perfect now that winter is upon us.

• 2 to 2.5 lbs country style pork ribs
• 2 large stalks of celery chopped
• 2 large carrots, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1 green bell pepper, chopped
• 2 jalapenos, 1 minced, 1chopped (control the heat to your wussiness taste by removing the seeds.
• 2 cups to 1 quart chicken stock
• 1 lb tomatillos
• olive oil
• salt and pepper
• 1 tbsp fresh oregano
• 3 sprigs fresh thyme
• juice of 1/2 a lime
• 1/2 cup cilantro leaves

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Cut the tomatillos (cleaned of their husks and washed of any sticky grossness) in half and set on a foil lined baking sheet. Add the garlic cloves and the chopped jalapeno and mix these together with about 1 tbsp olive oil and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Roast in the oven until softened and a little charred, about 20-30 minutes. Blitz in a blender with the lime juice and cilantro until pureed. Set aside.

In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat 1 tbsp of olive oil. Add the onions and cook until softened. Add the carrots, celery, minced jalapeno, and bell pepper and cook until slightly softened– another 5 minutes. Add the pork ribs, a little bit of salt and pepper as well as the thyme stalks and oregano. Cover with enough chicken stock to cover everything. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer. Add in the tomatillo puree and let everything cook until the pork falls off the bone, about 1.5-2 hours.

Remove the ribs from the pot and shred the meat. Add the pork back in and stir around to combine. Serve on rice, in a big bowl with tortillas on the side or wrapped in a tortilla.

CSA Count: 5

Green pepper, tomatillos, cilantro, jalapeno, carrots

Okay for the last few posts, this 2.5 month delay I’ve been on have been working for me since things like truffle mac n’ cheese and spicy carrot soup could be great winter meals. This one? Not so much, thanks to the dependence on having a really great tomato and this most definitely not being tomato season any more. So sorry to rub it in, but maybe thoughts of a good late summer tomato can help keep us all warm in this wintery weather?

Tomatoes used to mean nothing to me, but my mind was totally changed when someone gave John, his mother Sheila, and me some tomatoes after we visited their garden back when we lived in Utah. I think that was the first time I’d eaten a freshly picked tomato. It was so sweet and juicy and I remember thinking, “huh… so this is what a tomato is supposed to taste like!” We took those tomatoes home and it took all of 2 minutes before we decided that BLT’s would be for dinner.

Taking the opportunity to once again be a boastful spouse, John’s heirloom tomatoes can definitely hold their own in a fight against those tomatoes. In fact, I might take it a step too far and say that I’d use that friend’s tomatoes as saucing tomatoes if given a choice between those and John’s heirlooms for a salad. Yeah– that’s right– bring it! Oh, I’m sorry– was that way harsh of me?

In any case, I threw this together on a Sunday morning when once again, I wanted to break out of the pancake and bacon breakfast rut we sometimes get into. High on the memory of the then recently made caprese toasts (see hyperlink above), I thought I’d fashion something similar only with a softly poached egg on top, instead of cheese. If you’re a fan of English or “full” breakfasts but want a lighter version, you should definitely try this. You get the whole delightfully custardy effect of dipping your toast in egg yolks, but it’s not so heavy thanks to the sweet but slightly acidic juice of the fresh tomato cutting through. Dang, I might have to make a huge carbon footprint and have a good tomato shipped here from wherever it might be seasonal in order to satisfy a craving.

• 3 slices of crusty, day old bread
• 1 large garlic clove, lightly smashed and peeled
• olive oil
• 1 large Heirloom tomato, cut into 1/4 inch thick slices
• 4 large eggs*
• 1-2 tbsp white wine vinegar
• salt and pepper
• 1 tbsp fresh basil, chiffonade

*Fresh eggs work best for poaching– the older the egg then the more difficult it’ll be to get the whites to set.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Take your bread slices and brush both sides with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toast in your oven on a foil lined baking sheet for 5-7 minutes on each side. Rub the toasts with the garlic clove when they come out of the oven. Cut each slice in half on a bias and arrange three slices on each of 2 plates.

Lightly salt the tomato slices and set aside until it’s time for plating.

In the meantime, fill a large skillet that has a tight fitting lid with water and bring the water to a boil. Add vinegar and some salt to the water. Reduce the heat so that the water stops boiling and is sort of shimmering with heat but not simmering. Drop the eggs in– you kind of have to work rapidly but you also want to be careful when sliding the egg in as you don’t want to break the yolk and you want the whites to start setting a bit around the yolk before moving onto the next one. Turn off the heat and cover with the lid. Cook for 3 minutes for a soft yolk, 4-5 minutes for a set yolk but what’s the fun in that?

Lay your tomato slices on top of the toasts. Then using a slotted spoon, remove the eggs from the poaching water, starting with the first one you dropped in, with the last one in being the last one out to ensure that the earlier eggs don’t overcook and the later ones don’t undercook. Two eggs per plate please, then top with some fresh basil and a little more salt and pepper if you wish. Adding a couple strips of bacon doesn’t hurt either!

CSA Count: 2

Fresh garlic, basil

Garden Count: 1

Heirloom tomato

John and I sometimes play a food geek game of guessing what the big food trend is in restaurant fare. You know, based on what you see popping up on menus everywhere: “Gruyère is so the new Asiago.” Or my personal favorite, “The cupcake store trend is so dead. Pudding stores will be the next dessert boutique trend.”

Without it being officially declared, at least within my knowledge, it seemed like carrot ginger soup had to have been a big late summer/early fall trend this year. Knowing my feeling about ginger, this was not a trend I could get on board with, but admittedly, I could see the appeal of a sunny, warm bowl of a sweet yet spicy soup. I thought about making a soup of my own so I could be in control of balancing the flavors (aka, make sure that I taste the carrot, not just the ginger.)

I thought one great way to make sure those flavors were balanced would be to have something soft and creamy to contrast with the heat of the ginger. Having fallen in love with this roasted carrot and avocado salad, I thought maybe I could play off the flavors of that salad by roasting the carrots and topping the soup with a little cold salad of diced avocados and chives.

Added to the soup were some hot yellow peppers from the CSA, the requisite bit of ginger, and a combo of spices including a bit of cumin and some yellow curry powder. This was so delicious! When you get a perfect spoonful of soup with a bit of avocado the flavor layers, if I remember correctly, go like this: cold, creamy avocado melts into the sweetness of the carrots, intensified by roasting. Then the next thing you know, you get this undercurrent of heat from the peppers and earthy cumin. Then at the very last finish is a subtle flick of ginger which in my book, is the way to enjoy that pesky root.

• 1 bunch of carrots, preferably fresh ones with the green tops still on
• 2 hot yellow peppers… banana peppers?
• 1 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
• 1 onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 32 oz vegetable broth
• 2 tsp yellow curry powder
• 1 tsp cumin
• olive oil
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1 avocado, diced
• 1 tbsp fresh chives, chopped
• juice of half a lemon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. On a foil lined cookie sheet, layout your carrots and peppers which you’ve roughly chopped into large pieces in a single layer. Toss these with 1 tbsp of olive oil and some salt and pepper. Bake for 40 minutes.

In a large soup pot, heat 1 tbsp of olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and cook until the onions have softened. Add the roasted carrots, peppers, cumin, and curry. Add the vegetable stock and bring to a boil then reduce heat, simmer for 20 minutes. Add some more water if you need to. Blend the soup using an immersion blender or in batches using a regular blender. Adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper.

In a small bowl, mix the avocado, chives and a little pinch of salt and pepper along with the lemon juice to keep the avocado green. Serve the soup in bowls with a heaping tablespoon or so of the avocado garnish.

CSA Count: 5

Carrots, hot peppers, onion, garlic, chives

My mom insists that I get my culinary instincts from my dad. At first, I wasn’t sure about that since when I was growing up, my dad traveled a lot for work so it’s not like I remember seeing him do a lot of cooking. But when I think about it, it might be true by default given that my mom’s cooking frequently involved variations of boxed mac n’ cheese, tuna, hot dogs, canned baked beans, and sometimes, something frighteningly called “skillet dinner.” Now that my dad’s retired, there isn’t a need to guess anymore– he cooks a lot and has a stellar reputation for cooking among his friends and family from the many dinner parties that my parents have hosted. Talking about amazing meals from restaurants or cooked at home has been a bit of a bonding experience for Dad and me.

So one of the best things about sharing a gourmet interest with a parent? They can buy you the fancy ingredients that you would never spend the money on yourself. Thanks to Dad, I was the lucky recipient of truffle oil and truffle salt after he saw me staring longingly at these items at a cooking school/store in Cannon Beach. I’d been wanting to try these items for awhile as I’d heard that these can be great ways to impart delicious truffle flavor without the expense of buying actual truffles. But when a tiny vial of oil still costs $16, well, it still seems pricey to me. Yeah– I’m spoiled; suck on it. Thanks Dad for the awesome gifts!

As you can see from above, the truffle salt is big grains of sea salt, flecked with little black specks of delicious dried truffle. A little goes quite a long way, which means I’ve gotten a bit addicted to sprinkling this stuff with some melted butter on popcorn… drool… Another delicious use– this truffle mac n’ cheese. I added a drizzle of the truffle oil to my cheese sauce, seasoned it with the truffle salt and oil, and for an added punch, drizzled the oil and sprinkled the salt on the panko bread crumb topping. This dish was positively heady with truffle aroma in each bite, a perfect little spike in flavor to the milky, stretchy mozzarella and Gruyère cheese. I’m thinking that I should make this again really soon as this would be a great meal now that wintery weather is here.

• 16 oz dried fusilli pasta (I’d normally use cavatappi as I love the way those corkscrews stay al dente when baked but Amazon Fresh doesn’t carry it!)
• 3 cups whole milk
• 3 tbsp unsalted butter
• 2 tbsp flour
• 8 oz Gruyère, shredded
• 2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
• 3 tsp truffle oil, divided
• 1.5 tsp truffle salt, divided
• salt and pepper to taste
• 3 tbsp panko crumbs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cook pasta for 8 minutes or 1 or 2 minutes shy of the directions for cooking it al dente. Don’t worry– the pasta will absorb some of the sauce while baking so this will make it perfectly al dente when done instead of being a mushy mess.

In a medium sauce pan, melt the butter over medium low heat. Sprinkle flour over the butter and whisk for 1-2 minutes. Turn the heat up to medium high and whisk in the milk. Keep whisking for 5-6 minutes or until the sauce thickens. Take off of the heat, add 1 tsp of truffle salt and 1 tsp of truffle oil. Add pepper to taste. Stir in half of the Gruyère and mozzarella cheeses until melted into a rich cheese sauce. Adjust seasonings with additional regular salt and pepper to taste.

Combine the cheese sauce with the pasta. In a large baking dish that has been sprayed with cooking spray, add half of the pasta and sprinkle with about 1/2 cup of the  remaining shredded cheeses. Layer the rest of the pasta on top of that and finish by covering with the rest of the shredded cheese. Sprinkle on the panko crumbs, with another sprinkle of the truffle salt and a good drizzle of the truffle oil to help with browning the bread crumbs. Lightly spray the crumbs with cooking spray to ensure even browning.

Bake for 30 minutes and let rest for 10 before digging in!

CSA Count: ummm… none in the mac n’ cheese but if you count the side salad 4

Cucumber, slicing tomato, lettuce, carrot

Continuing where I left off, I’d found some beautiful Black Mission figs at a produce stand in the Granville Public Market. I have loved figs ever since John and I got this delicious tapas plate of grilled chorizo and Black Mission figs in a red wine reduction at an anniversary dinner in Salt Lake City. I rarely see them in the grocery stores so when I saw these, I pounced even though I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with them.

One thought was to roast them with the lamb and fennel, but at the last minute, I nixed the idea because I was afraid that the anise flavor of the fennel when mixed with the sweet figs might make everything taste like a Fig Newton. We’d also bought a little package of baby spinach leaves for a salad, but no other veggies to brighten it up out of a sense of pragmatism since it was our last night in the condo. We didn’t want to buy too much produce as it would only go to waste when we’d have to throw it out instead of bringing it over the border. (Odd, since I’m pretty sure that spinach was from a farm in California.) So why not roast the figs to dress up the salad?

Now in a dress-up mindset, I thought I’d try roasting the figs so that they’d be sweet, juicy, and warm, hoping that the heat would also slightly wilt the spinach leaves. Even better– we had some leftover cranberry stilton (purchased at the nearby super expensive grocery chain equivalent to Whole Paycheck) in the fridge that needed to be used up, so why not make stuffed figs for the salad? And why yes, that is a grill pan that you saw above, as I had no other roasting pan in my meager (but still perfectly usable!) condo kitchen.

Lastly, what to do about a salad dressing. John and I rooted through the cabinets– a sometimes scary experience given the number of people who stay there and leave behind random groceries (I’m thinking of you, 3-year-old brie wedges wrapped in wax paper and sitting in the freezer.) At first we couldn’t find balsamic vinegar to mix with olive oil, but we did find some creamy cinnamon honey. Here we had a disagreement as I thought that the cinnamon would be a nice, warm spicey background for the figs and salty-sweet cheese. John thought it’d just be gross mixed with any salad dressing that we might be able to muster. After further digging, we found some balsamic salad dressing in the fridge that couldn’t be too old as we were pretty sure it was the bottle we’d purchased when we’d been there in March, but that cinnamon honey just kept calling to me, if anything for the pioneering adventure of cooking with what you’ve got on hand. We ended up compromising by tossing the salad greens with the dressing then lovingly drizzling the honey on just the figs themselves.

This was such a great salad– a little fancy but so simple at the same time! The stilton with its cranberries added a slightly salty and tart backdrop to the sweet, plump figs. Warm from the oven, the soft fruit provided a nice texture contrast to the crisp spinach leaves. And the cinnamon honey added just enough spice to keep the whole thing interesting– a kind of sparkling unexpectedness peeking through the flavors of the roasted fig. I bet this would be a really pretty salad to warm up a holiday dinner table if you want to give it a try!

• 1 pint Black Mission figs
• 4 cups baby spinach
• 2 oz cranberry stilton
• balsamic salad dressing
• 1 tbsp cinnamon honey
• salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 375. Using a paring knife, cut a X about 1/2 inch deep into the top of each fig. For each fig, crumble about 1/2 tsp, or however much will fit, of the stilton into the hole left by the X shape. Set the figs down on a lightly oiled roasting pan. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper. Roast the figs for about 15 minutes or until soft. While figs are roasting, toss the spinach with the dressing and plate. Sit the figs on top of each plate– since there were 2 of us, I indulged us with 5 figs each, but if you’re plating for 4, probably 2-3 on each plate would be good for a first course salad. Drizzle the figs with the honey for some added spicy sweetness.

I am really fortunate that my family owns a condo up in Vancouver, B.C. A three hour drive from Seattle (including border crossing wait), Vancouver has become a much depended upon weekend escape for me. I know that sounds silly– escaping from one cloudy, rainy city to another one further north, but there’s just something about the feel of the city that is different enough to make me feel like I’ve changed continents temporarily, and no, I don’t just mean the fact that their coffee shops serve Candadianos instead of Americanos.

I also get a kick out of how this one city embodies different routines for different members of my family. When my parents come here it’s all about getting as close to a Hong Kong experience as possible as they search out and go to the latest “best” Chinese restaurant recommended to them. When my brother and his family stay there each July, it’s a true long vacation experience with bike rides, trips to the beaches, and finding really cool take out options. And when John and I go there, we are guaranteed to spend one afternoon at the Granville Island Public Market stuffing our faces then troving out what looks fresh to take back to the condo to cook dinner.

These routines clash when more than one of these factions are in the condo at the same time. For instance, when my parents and an uncle wanted to go up to Vancouver with John and me one weekend, they scoffed at my suggestion that we try out John’s and my market routine. My father even said, “Nobody can cook at the condo!” despite the fact that we have a kitchen stocked with some modest cooking supplies. So I offer up this and the following post as proof that yes, you can cook at the condo!

This meal was made during John’s and my most recent Vancouver visit. At the market that day, I saw several stands offering lamb roasts, including this nice little 2 pounder that looked like it could serve two instead of the usual roast for 10. The vegetable stand was teeming with late summer, early fall harvest finds including the fennel, fingerling potatoes and fresh figs that we ended up purchasing. I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to do and didn’t decide until the very last minute that I wanted to keep the figs separated from the lamb in a separate salad (post to follow later this week.) Given the limited cooking utensils and other paraphernalia in the condo kitchen, I decided to just roast the lamb with garlic and rosemary on a bed of the fennel and fingerling potatoes– a simple one pan meal.

Things got more complicated since the condo lacks a meat thermometer, so after looking up some lamb roast recipes online for ideas as to temperature, I guessed at how long I would have to cook this significantly smaller roast than the ones in the recipes I found. We ended up with tender slices of still rare lamb, served on a bed of sweet, roasted fennel and potatoes spiked with woodsy rosemary. All of this was perfectly accompanied with the sparkling rose we found at a nearby wine store. As you can see from above, the view ain’t a half bad dinner accompaniment either!

• 1 2.5 lb boneless lamb leg roast
• 1.5 lb fingerling potatoes
• 1 large fennel bulb, halved then sliced lengthwise
• 4 cloves garlic, 3 sliced thinly and 1 minced
• 3 long sprigs fresh rosemary, leaves removed and chopped
• salt and pepper to taste
• olive oil

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Rub olive oil all over your roast and season with salt, pepper, and about 2/3 of your rosemary. Cut little slits, about 1/8 of an inch deep, here and there all over the lamb and wedge a slice of garlic in each cut. Set aside

Toss the potatoes and fennel with about 1 tbsp of olive oil, salt, pepper, the minced garlic, and the rest of your rosemary. Spread these out over the bottom of a roasting pan and set the lamb on top of that. Cook for about 45 minutes or until your meat thermometer reaches 145 degrees F. Let rest for 10 minutes before slicing the roast and serving slices on top of the mix of potatoes and fennel.

My neighbors know that the Morrison Wong household has officially declared it the start of the warm weather season when we start eating dinner out on our front porch. All through spring and summer, both the dog and the cat get excited when they see John uncork the wine and I start moving out of the kitchen with our plated meal. The pets usually beat us to the front door, just as eager as us to absorb the late sunlight and our small but beautiful view of the Cascades and Lake Washington.

Why bring this up now that we are on the cusp of winter? Am I just rubbing salt into the wound that has been ripped open by the sun setting around 4:30 each afternoon? Well, it’s only because it’s been brought to my attention that the dog does not correlate warm weather with our eating outside, but apparently thinks we eat outside based on what’s being plated for the meal. Yesterday, I was composing “big ass cobb salads” using leftover Thanksgiving turkey. When I started to bring the plated salads out of the kitchen, our dog excitedly raced to the front door expecting that this meal would be eaten outdoors despite the overcast skies and low 40’s degree temps. Huh… is Truman perhaps commenting that John and I eat too many large salads during the summer months?

It’s true– large salads are generally not on my mind once the weather turns colder. All I want are comforting, warm meals, something that lots of ice cold lettuce does not do for me. But if I remember correctly, I made this salad on a really cool September evening. I think that the warm, broiled chicken combined with the spices in the dressing and marinade might actually make this a good salad for a cool weather night.

This salad was inspired by one thing: I had more tomatillos and simply could not face making another batch of salsa. My mind immediately went to the fabulous Mexican inspired large salads at a chain in Utah, a lunch time staple, actually. So I took lots of crisp, green lettuce and topped it with fresh corn, bell pepper slices, carrots, and of course, creamy avocado. The chicken was broiled after soaking in a marinade made with lemon, a splash of gin (would have been tequila for a smokey quality but our bar was lacking), red pepper for heat and garlic. I then made a rich salad dressing from oven roasted tomatillos, lots of lime juice and cilantro. I wanted to top it off with some crispy fried tortilla strips but had to scratch that idea when mine burned. But you know– I honestly didn’t miss having that added bit of crunch. The dressing was nicely emulsified so it was creamy but had a bright acidic tang. It enveloped the vegetables and chunks of warm chicken, making this comforting while the crisp fresh vegetables was a cooling but satisfying memory of summer with each bite.

Chicken

• 1 lb chicken breast halves
• 1/4 cup gin
• 1 tbsp lemon zest
• juice of half a lemon
• 2 garlic cloves, smashed
• 1 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp black pepper

Dressing

• 1 lb tomatillos, husked and rinsed of sticky goop
• 1 tbsp olive oil and another 1/3 cup
• salt and pepper to taste
• juice of 1 lime
• 1/4 cup cilantro leaves
• 1 tsp cumin

Salad

• 1 head red butter leaf lettuce
• 1 ear of corn, stripped of its kernels
• 1 red bell pepper, sliced
• 1 avocado, thinly sliced
• 1 orange bell pepper, sliced
• 3 radishes, sliced
• 2 scallions chopped
• chopped cilantro (optional)

Mix together the ingredients for the marinade (everything under “Chicken” except the chicken breasts) in a bowl or in a plastic bag and let the chicken sit in that mixture for 15 minutes, turning the chicken every now and then. Don’t be put off by the discoloration– the acid from the lemon juice is cooking the chicken which is why you don’t need to marinate this for too long. Broil or grill the chicken for about 5 minutes on each side then remove to a plate tented with foil to keep the chicken warm while the juices redistribute.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Cut your tomatillos in half and lay them out on a foil lined baking sheet. Mix them around with 1 tbsp olive oil, salt and pepper then roast them for about 20 minutes or until they’re soft and a little charred looking. Blitz them in a blender or in a food processor with the cumin, lime juice, and cilantro, adding the olive oil in a steady stream through the feed tube. I think I added about 1/3 of a cup but you’re looking for the dressing to turn a light, creamy green color when it’s emulsified with enough oil. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Assemble your salad ingredients then cut up the chicken into bite sized chunks and use it to top your salad. Drizzle the dressing around and add a sprinkle of more cilantro. Crispy tortilla strips (or crumbled tortilla chips) would be tasty, but aren’t necessary.

CSA Count: 6

Tomatillos, corn, garlic, cilantro, red butter leaf lettuce, radishes

Hi, my name is Christina, and I hate ginger. Well, hate is a strong word. I just dislike its soapy flavor when in excessive amounts. I still use it when I make Asian foods or put it into my pumpkin pie. I’ve even come to love ginger snaps ( especially when paired with ice cream and caramel.) But I just hate biting into large chunks of it or when it dominates my palate. For this, John calls me, “The Worst. Asian. Ever.”

And perhaps that title is also earned to a certain degree since I hate Asian pears. I just don’t like the super grainy texture (as opposed to the slightly grainy but still soft flesh of a regular pear) and frankly, I just don’t think they have much flavor. The juice is refreshing… but for the lack of flavor, I might as well drink water.

Nonetheless, I put these two items together in homage to a delicious ginger, maple, pear pie recipe that I once made from Simply Recipes (see blog roll.) I sincerely believe that like all loves and hates in life, there are outliers– in this case, combining two ingredients that I strongly dislike resulted in something that I loved! The Asian pears were great for baking because they kept a firm texture in the pie filling. The maple syrup and brown sugar I used in the filling helped caramelize the pears and the ginger (and I used a lot here!) added a spicy zing that woke this pie up. Lastly, the streusel topping, made with slivered almonds, was crunchy and buttery, rounding off all the flavors. If you’re looking for an alternative to the pecan v. pumpkin v. apple pie debate for your Thanksgiving meal, you might consider giving this pie a shot as your new holiday dessert!

• 1/2 Deluxe Butter Pastry recipe

Filling:

• 1 lb Asian pears, cored and cut into 1/2 inch wedges
• 3/4 cup brown sugar (or less if pears are sweet)
• 2 tbsp corn starch
• 1 tsp lemon zest
• 2 tbsp chopped candied ginger
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 tbsp pure maple syrup
• lemon juice to taste

Streusel Topping:

• 3 tbsp cold unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup slivered almonds
• 3-6 tbsp flour
• 1/4 cup light brown sugar
• pinch of salt
• 1 tbsp minced candied ginger
• dash of cinnamon

Roll out pie dough and set in a 9 inch pie plate. Place in refrigerator until ready to use.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the filling ingredients. Let sit for 15 minutes. While that’s resting, combine the streusel ingredients in a medium bowl and using your fingers, pinch together the ingredients until you get a crumbly mixture.

Pour filling into pie dough, just heap it up in there. Crumble your streusel topping so it covers the filling. Bake for 40 minutes or until the streusel is browned. Cool to room temperature before eating. I bet this would be fabulous with some sweetened creme fraiche or you can use plain whipped cream or vanilla ice cream if you want.

CSA Count: 1

Asian pears