Chicken Dinner

I clearly have not gotten the hang of photography in my new kitchen yet. I never thought I would, but oh how I miss the clean blue light of my Viking range hood. Nevertheless dinners are inching up to our old standard.

Tonight I offered James creamy parmesan polenta topped with a pan fried chicken breast cutlet, coated in panko crumbs and plenty of fresh herbs. On the side a sautéed tangle of Romano beans scored at the nearby farmers market. Working loosely off a recipe from Chez Panisse I started some olive oil heating in a pan and flavored it by letting chopped shallot and garlic sauté in the oil for about 3 minutes. I removed the aromatics and added in the beans, cut in to 2 inch lengths, along with a sprig of rosemary, some dried oregano and fresh thyme (the original recipe called for only fresh oregano but we didn't have any)-- and tossed it all around in the oil (here and there) for about 10 minutes until they were just tender and brown in spots. Then I added back in the garlic and shallots along with two small chopped tomatoes and cooked the mixture for about 2 minutes more. After cooling for a minute or so I drizzled the beans with about a tsp of balsamic vinegar and served the dish room temperature over the hot polenta.

James went back for seconds.

Meet The New Neighbors

Our new friends along the back fence, sixty and sixty-nine.

Pork Potatoes Paprika

It seems my recent trip to Hungary did have some lasting effect, at least culinarily. While trying to decide on a warming, stew dinner dish I kept drifting back to a Goulash recipe I had saved from the LA Times recipe request column. Now I am certainly no expert but I did indulge in a few bowls of goulash while across the pond. In contrast to this recipe from the Blue Jam Cafe in Los Angeles, which the reader swore was the most authentic he had eaten, the goulash I sampled in Hungary was a red-brothed light soup with tender bits of pork served alongside delicious buttery spaetzle. My version, following the restaurant's recipe was thick, full of pork and potatoes, and delicately flavored with caraway and paprika, Hungary's favorite spice. Just the thing for a cool fall night.

America's Pastime

Games seven burgers and roasted potatoes.

Pot Of Beans

This has been a soupy week. I'm not sure if it's the nip in the air or that most of my sauté pans are in my old kitchen or the lack of dishwasher (soupy meals are good one pot options) but somehow every night lately dinner has been in a bowl. I tried to break out tonight. No luck. Somehow the Italian sausage in the fridge (another treat from our friends at Chileno valley Ranch) turned into a bean stew with plenty of fresh herbs and tomatoes canned from our garden.

I sautéed smashed garlic cloves in olive oil and then browned sausage meatballs in the hot oil. I added in chopped rosemary, thyme, and crushed red peppers followed by two cans of beans (drained) and then 1 cup of reserved liquid added back in, 2 sage leaves, and a pint jar of tomatoes. I let everything simmer for 15 minutes covered and then another 10 uncovered to try and reduce the sauce.

A little soupy but pretty tasty. You can see not much was left.

What's In A Name

I don't have any idea why Mario Batali calls this recipe Bread Soup. There is no bread in the actual soup, just grilled slices served on the side (I topped ours with cheese). No matter, it wasn't the bread in the title that caught my attention. It was farmwife. Farmwife's bread soup Batali called it, as if he was speaking directy to me. I am a sucker for recipes with rustic, cozy names. Grandma's layer cake, Sheepherder's bread, Farmwife bread soup . . . it's just recipe marketing but it always gets my attention. As I said, I am a sucker.

Tonight I fell for this quick recipe. Sliced onions (1) and chopped garlic (2 cloves) are sautéed in plenty of olive oil (1/3 cup) until soft but not colored. Next go in two peeled, chopped potatoes (I cut into about 1/2 in dice), then sea salt, crushed red peppers, and 2 cups of chopped beet greens. Though he wouldn't eat a beet on a dare, James loves the tasty greens. Everything in the pot sautés for a couple minutes and then go in 4 cups of water (Batali called for 2 but I don't see how that is possible) and a bay leaf. Bring the liquid to a boil and simmer for 15 minutes until the potatoes are tender. The original recipe ends there and advises to serve the soup with grated Pecorino Romano cheese on top. I embellished and poached a few eggs in the simmering soup liquid. What farmwife, I reasoned, wouldn't have a few eggs around the kitchen? And, the yolks added a bit of richness to the otherwise slightly spare winter soup.

Don't Eat With Your Eyes

This is undoubtedly one of the least appetizing plates of spaghetti I have ever made. I saw the recipe for Bucatini with Cauliflower and Brussels Sprouts in Food and Wine Magazine from Philadelphia chef Marc Vetri and knew right away it was a dish James would love. Crisp beautiful vegetables sautéed in olive oil and flavored with thyme, rosemary, garlic and anchovies. The magazine picture, bursting with color and jumping of the page, displayed the perfect winter vegetable dish. Perhaps I left the lid on too long or maybe my veggies cooked too long. Although delicious and a recipe I will definitely repeat -- our "sauce" (or condimento as Mario Batali would say) came out slightly grey. From a distance it almost looked like a bowl of sauerkraut topped with cheese. Nobody wants that. Mercifully James has come to trust me and dug right into the pallid mixture. His faith was rewarded with tender vegetables coated with peppery olive oil, zesty from the anchovies.