Use Your Noodle

If you think the jar collection looks silly, concentrate on the pasta collection -- a sporadic mix of elbow, orzo, fettuccine, angel hair, and one whose name I cannot recall but it's short, whole wheat and tastes divine with a creamy sauce.

Making love (of a meal) out of nothing at all; well, perhaps there was something (of a meal), however, it wasn't much, but it was hearty, filled our bellies, and, most importantly, included wine. Admittedly it was a meal made from the meager scratches of both pantry and refrigerator items in my anticipation of making room for a new bundle of vittles from the farmer's market. Using pre-cooked Puy lentils, orzo pasta, white wine, creamy goat cheese, and slices of Prosciutto, I created a lovely and creamy “risotto” in the style of Emilie -- Risotto a la Emilie. I have convinced myself this is the only way to make risotto. Do not mistake my corner-cutting as disdain of the discerningly popular Italian dish. I just happen to adore the mouth feel of orzo, and its bonus, the rice-shaped pasta easily mocks Arborio rice – hey, it’s an act of God, and I cannot deny the power he has to turn orzo pasta in Arborio rice. Now if only my kitchen tap will flow with the plumiest Cabernet, well, I’m sure that is on God's list right after liberating the dolphins from the tuna nets.

In the meantime, I'll keep buying wild-caught, dolphin friendly tuna in a can and look for good Cabernet deals at Trader Joe's while satisfying my love of risotto with yet another time-friendly, healthy recipe that can be fiddled with according to seasons and tastes.

Creamy Lentil, Goat Cheese, and Prosciutto "Risotto"
with a side of Roasted Tomato Crostini
Serves 3 as a main dish

3 fat garlic cloves, squished and minced, any green germs removed
1 tablespoon olive oil
2/3 cup dry orzo
1/2 cup crisp and dry white wine
2/3 cup water
Salt
1 cup cooked Puy or French Green Lentils
3 ounces soft goat cheese
1 1/2 ounces Prosciutto, chopped
Small handful fresh tarragon, chopped
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a medium saucepan, saute garlic in olive oil until the aroma just penetrates the air, about one minute. Add water, wine, orzo, and a medium dusting of salt to the saucepan, and bring to a simmer. Stir orzo frequently to keep the pasta from sticking to the bottom of the pot. Add more water as pasta absorbs the liquid. When pasta is al dente and the liquid is about absorbed, add the lentils, goat cheese, prosciutto, and tarragon, and stir to evenly distribute the melting goat cheese. Salt and pepper the pasta to taste, and adjust seasonings accordingly. Serve immediately.

Roasted Tomato Crostini

Half of a baguette sliced into 5-inch pieces, each piece cut in half horizontally
Olive oil
Half of a head roasted garlic*
8 medium roasted tomato halves*
Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Arrange baguette slices, cut side up, on a cookie sheet. Squish garlic from their papers, and mix with olive oil. Rub mixture onto cut side of each baguette slice. Top each slice with a few tomatoes. Salt and pepper the tomatoes, pop cookie sheet into the oven, and heat until bread is crisp and tomatoes are warm, about 10 or 15 minutes. Drizzle more olive oil over crostini, if desired, and serve.

*Make Ahead:

Roast Tomatoes: Line cookie sheet with foil and lightly oil the foil (as now the cookie sheet shall not get soiled). Cut enough tomatoes in half and arrange on cookie sheet so as not to cramp the cookie sheet with cut tomatoes. Leave a bit of room between each tomato half so they'll roast and not steam. Roast tomatoes in a 250 degree oven 2 to 3 hours, or until they're beginning to shrivel and have a touch of brown on the edges. Let cool, and store in the fridge up to one week or in the freezer up to three months. These are great to have on hand to toss into cooked pasta, to dress up a sandwich, or to just devour on their own such as I'm prone to do.

Roast Garlic: Chop the top off a head of garlic. Drizzle olive oil over the top, and wrap the head in foil. Roast in a 250 degree oven for about 2 or 3 hours. To serve, squish cloves from their papers. Mix soft cloves with olive oil and spread on bread or toss with pasta. Store roasted garlic in the fridge up to a week. Roasted garlic is heavenly to mash with extra olive oil and salt to spread on bread or to toss with pasta.

My Summer Challenge: Keep it Local

Foraging off the land or through the vegetable bins of our refrigerators is either a romantic or horrific notion to those of us who are used to the convenience of popping a frozen dinner into the microwave for the five minutes it takes to thaw a meal and wondering why it's taking those five long minutes. Oh I’ve done it; of course I’ve done it. I did it as recently as a week ago Thursday for my lunch. With the warmer weather outside and the restless nature inside, Shane and I have not been home, and my days of cooking have lapsed considerably. I miss my own cooking, Shane misses my cooking, and I especially miss packing leftovers in my lunch bag. Frittatas make fantastic leftovers, and pairing bacon roasted chicken with blue cheese and plain yogurt makes a chicken salad that will not easily be forgotten. Indeed, I have fantasized about my blue cheese chicken salad more than modesty will admit. Alas, not much chicken has been baked lately and the frittatas seemed years away as I succumbed to the frozen foods section of Jewel-Osco one morning before work.

However, this week I challenged myself to eat a homemade lunch everyday, and even better, one as locally produced as possible, which means regular forages to the farmer’s market. Lately my foraging has rewarded me with sweet asparagus, creamy potatoes, pungent herbs, and the season’s first tomatoes. And I’m notoriously a farmer’s market impulse buyer. I can pass on the honey, the pastries, even the natural soaps fragrant with lavender and rosemary. On the contrary, dangle a table groaning with potatoes, garlic, English peas still in their pods, beets, carrots, and strawberries, well, get the MMHMMM out of my way (content edited for mothers’ eyes).

After lunching on cold boiled fingerling potatoes (still in their skins), blanched asparagus, roasted tomatoes, and homemade ricotta cheese all drizzled with mustard and tarragon vinaigrette, I think I’m up to the challenge of going farmer’s market all the way, until season’s finale. Okay, I’ll probably cheat by buying a lime here and a banana there, and certainly neither are from a Midwestern farmer’s market. And no, I do not plan on taking a trip to Florida or Ecuador to justify my purchase. Nevertheless, I will, mark my every word, notarize every syllable to make it official, I will buy at least 90 percent of my produce from the farmer’s market, and at least 50 percent of my overall groceries from the farmer's market until the season’s end, which according to my fold-out calendar of all the farmer’s markets in Chicago, could be as late of mid-October.

And next time I roast chicken with bacon or make a frittata, the eggs and chicken will be from a local source. Forager’s honor.

Creamy Chicken and Blue Cheese Salad

I whipped this up one day for lunch when I had a hodge-podge of leftovers including a bacon-wrapped chicken breast, a bit of Gorgonzola, and some fat free Greek-style yogurt.

For one person:

1 four to six ounce cooked chicken breast (or the equivalent in any leftover chicken)
2 tablespoons (1 ounce) or so of Gorgonzola or other blue cheese
¼ cup plain, fat free, low fat, or all the way baby whole milk yogurt (Greek-style or not)
1 shallot, chopped
Handful of raisins or roasted grapes*
Fresh herbs if you’ve got them
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Mix together blue cheese and yogurt until mixture is creamy. Chop chicken and add it to the mixture along with the shallots, raisins (or grapes), and fresh herbs, if you’ve got them, and incorporate into blue cheese mixture. Salt and pepper to taste, and serve with crackers, on bread, in a tomato with the middle scooped out, or whatever your chicken salad fancy may be.

*Roasted grapes are basically raisins with a punch. To roast grapes, wash and dry 3 or 4 cups of grapes, preferably seedless. Line a baking sheet or two with foil, turn the oven to 250 degrees, arrange grapes on cookie sheet, and roast for an hour or two, until grapes are wrinkly but still somewhat soft. Store roasted grapes in refrigerator up to a month. I don’t know about using them in oatmeal raisin cookies, but they’re great in homemade breads and chicken salad.

The Beginnings of my Farmer’s Market Simple Lunches:
Serves 1

3 or 4 small fingerling potatoes
3 smallish ripe tomatoes - halved
8 or so stalks of asparagus
A chunk of ricotta salata or a scoop of soft ricotta
Mustard Tarragon Vinaigrette (recipe follows)

Roast tomatoes: Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Arrange tomatoes on a cookie sheet and roast until tomatoes shrivel a bit and are a touch browned and caramelized, about 2 to 3 hours (as always, check tomatoes after 2 hours to ensure they are not browning too fast).

Boil potatoes: Scrub potatoes and boil, with skins attached, in a pot of salted water for 20 minutes or until pierced easily with a fork. Drain water and generously salt potatoes. Shake potatoes around pot to evenly distribute the salt. Let potatoes cool and dry a bit, leaving them in the pot. The salt will give the potatoes a nice, white crust.

Blanch asparagus: Boil asparagus in a large pot of salted water 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat, drain water, and immediately plunge asparagus into cold water to stop their cooking.

Arrange all vegetables on a platter and serve cold or at room temperature with a chunk of ricotta and a drizzle of Mustard and Tarragon Vinaigrette. For convenience, vegetables and dressing can be made ahead and refrigerated.

Mustard and Tarragon Vinaigrette (makes enough for several salads):

4 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon mustard
1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon
3 small or 1 big garlic clove, smashed
Salt and pepper to taste

Whisk together olive oil, vinegar, and mustard. Add tarragon and garlic and whisk again to combine. Salt and pepper to taste. Dressing keeps up to a week in the refrigerator.

No Whey!

Just curds -- really. Once I drained the heck out of my homemade ricotta cheese, very little to no whey remained. Why make homemade ricotta cheese? To pair with my arugula pesto. That answer will not satisfy? Snow white curds that were formed in my pot on my stove and left to drain in my old pillowcase (laundered, of course) that swung from the kitchen cabinet to allow the whey to slowly drip from the rose-patterned cotton, paired with with peppery pesto to dress strands of fettuccine, that's why I made homemade ricotta cheese.

A few lazy hours, whole milk, fresh lemon juice, salt, and means to drain the cheese are the required ingredients to make your own ricotta cheese. While the cheese drips, whip up some pizza crust, assemble ingredients for lasagna, or make a bowl of arugula pesto. When the ricotta curds are dry to your liking, you have ammo enough for a fresh (nearly) summertime meal.

Fettuccine with Fresh Ricotta and Arugula Pesto

For the fresh ricotta cheese:

1/2 gallon whole or 2% milk (try not to use ultra-pasteurized milk)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Salt
A well-laundered, old cotton pillow case (but not laundered with strong detergent or fabric softer so as not to transfer the taste)or at least four layers of cheesecloth
Kitchen twine

Line a colander with the pillow case or cheesecloth. In a large stock pot over medium-low heat, gently heat the milk and lemon juice together until curds start forming and pulling away from the whey (the whey will appear grayish and somewhat watery). This may take awhile, but do not be tempted to crank up the heat under the milk. You do not want to scorch the milk. When the curds are starting to separate, carefully pour the curds into the cheesecloth and let the whey drain for a few minutes and the cheesecloth cool off before gathering it into a bundle and tying with kitchen twine. Suspend the cheesecloth from a wooden spoon set in a deep pot, or suspend it from the cabinet above a sink or a pot. Full freedom baby. Let the whey drain from the cloth for 1-3 hours depending on how stiff you want the curds. Obviously, the longer you drain the cheese, the stiffer and drier the curds will be. For a more cottage cheese-like consistency, check the draining after an hour.

When draining time has lapsed, un-mold the cheese (no mold puns intended), salt to taste, and store in a plastic container or glass jar. Cheese will keep up to a week in the fridge. Drizzle fresh cheese with honey and serve with fresh berries, or go the savory way, and dollop it onto the homemade pizza crust, top with spinach, fresh garlic, and a good grinding of pepper, and bake. Or try it with arugula pesto and fettuccine:

Arugula Pesto:

1 good size bunch of arugula, washed, well dried, and then finely chopped
2 tablespoons toasted and chopped hazelnuts
2 fat cloves of garlic, green germ removed, minced
2 - 3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

Salt

In a blender or food processor, blend the arugula with the hazelnuts and garlic until everything is somewhat chopped. Add the olive oil and whiz some more until a thick paste is formed. Add cheese and give the blender a few good pulses until the cheese is incorporated. Taste for saltiness, and stir in salt if your taste buds ask for it. For a fast, yet impressive meal, toss pesto with homemade ricotta and freshly cooked fettuccine, or do as Shane and serve the pesto atop crackers with a shaving of Parmigiano-Reggiano garnish.

Pesto will keep in the fridge for up to a week. Freeze any unused portions (yeah right) for later.

How many are in your party this evening? Just one.

Yes, I'm a single gal two nights in one week. I always make big plans when this happens -- I'm actually going to read something written by Jane Austen, I'm going to give myself a pedicure, I'm going to fix something über -gourmet.

With new boots to break in on a quick trip to Jewel to pick up visitor passes for out-of-town guests who will be arriving tomorrow, über-gourmet is quickly being clouded by uber-simple. In addition to über-simple, I requested (to myself, which could be ignored, depending) something brimming with fresh vegetables and complex flavors.

You are too complicated. The chef cannot honor your request.

If you will honor my request, I will shout to the masses your great ability to turn something simple into something complex.

Oftentimes the chef can turn the simplistic into complexity, but a majority of the time it's not pertaining to food.

Did I mention I've sipped on a bit of Merlot before writing this piece? I convinced my inner chef to try a wilted arugula dish, flavored with shallots, dashes of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and a drop of Dijon mustard. Shavings of Parmigiano-Reggiano and lightly poached, eggs with their thick gush of bright yellow and creamy yolks topped an über -gourmet pile of greens. It's too bad I am still feeling the effect of last night's strip steak, or else I would have asked the chef to fry some bacon before adding the arugula.

What are you trying to do, replicate the Great Wall of China in your arteries?

Wilted Arugula in Warm Shallot Vinaigrette with Poached Eggs
Why not?

Serves one gal hungry for a plate o' greens.

1 huge bunch arugula (bagged, boxed, or picked from your farmer's market)
1 shallot, chopped
Olive oil
Dashes of Balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 eggs, for heft
Country bread, to accompany and mop up the juices

Start a medium pot of water to boil. Have 2 eggs ready to poach. When water starts boiling, poach eggs, 3 to 3 1/2 minutes (I poached 2 jumbo-sized eggs for 3 minutes, 15 seconds) for nice, soft yolks and silky whites. When eggs have poached, remove from pan onto paper towel lined plate.

While eggs poach, wash arugula. If the pieces are big, chop. If it's baby arugula (such as mine was), don't bother. In a huge, ginormous skillet, heat olive oil. Cook shallots until they are soft and slightly brown, stirring quite often. Carefully shake a bit of Balsamic vinegar into the skillet (careful, it will splatter, you may want to turn down the heat a tad before doing this). Add Dijon mustard and whisk to incorporate. Shake any excess water off the arugula, and add to the skillet in batches. Let one batch wilt, add the second batch and stir to coat with dressing, and repeat until all the arugula is in the skillet and starting to wilt. Remove from heat, pile onto plate, and season with salt, pepper, and more Balsamic vinegar if necessary, to taste. Shave Parmigiano-Reggiano over greens, top with poached eggs, drizzle with a little olive oil, and serve with bread to dip into the eggs and mop up the vinaigrette.

Following several nights of semi-heavy desserts, I decided to give myself a break, and run with the theme of colorful and vitamin-packed:

Sweet, Sour, Salty, Spicy

1 very ripe mango, preferably Ataulfo
Juice from 1/2 a lime
Ground Cayenne pepper or other hot pepper flakes
Salt



Cut mango, arrange on plate, squeeze lime juice over mango, and with a light hand, sprinkle with hot pepper and salt. Try not to lick the juices from the plate after the mango is devoured.

Fight-Back Friday Frijoles!

I am faced with the same dilemma almost every Thursday evening -- What am I going to pack in my lunch tomorrow? The roast beef I bought for sandwiches only stretches four days - two slices per sandwich per day, except for the Thursday when I discovered I three slices of roast beef left in the package. Woohoo, bonus slice!

I ate the bonus slice on Thursday's sandwich - it was shamelessly delicious - which left the still nagging thought of what to pack for Friday's lunch. As the only meals we ate at home this week were pizza and salad on Sunday evening, and leftover pizza and fresh salad on Wednesday evening, leftovers in my brown bag were just not possible. Running down to my favorite sandwich shop for a bite only to stand in a line runs out the door and down the sidewalk seemed daunting. A meal from home seemed more cozy and relaxing, something that fit into my lazy schedule. Walk to the break room and heat up a meal or walk to get a sandwich, stand in line for 20 minutes, pay $7, and rush back to work?

For greater of two months, the urge to cook has been the apparition that can't settle into an afterlife. When the urge to settle strikes, I strike back. Admittedly, what I put together for my lunch was more of a flirtatious slap than an out-and-out brawl. But I had to whip up a meal for my lunch out of pure shame -- I was supposed to make the very meal for supper. Somehow, between walking to the train and walking through the doors of the restaurant, there was a change in plans. I am almost positive strong brainwashing tactics were involved, tactics that caused my mind to detour from thoughts of homemade black beans and rice to thoughts of beef, cilantro, soft corn tortillas, and cactus salad. Shane was a happy accomplice.

And when we arrived home, hours later, full of beef, cilantro, soft corn tortillas, cactus salad, and the beer we bought on the way to supper, I had to look my thawed bag of black beans square in the eye and dare them to whip themselves into something scrumptious. And what darling little beans they were to soak up the fresh onion and garlic, dashes of cayenne pepper and cumin, roasted red peppers, thyme sprigs, and the few splashes of red wine vinegar, just for balance, and today as I ate their almost forgotten velvety texture over brown Basmati rice, garnished with fresh cilantro and squeezes of lime, I was grateful I made the time to reacquaint myself with old friends packed in the freezer and amongst the various clutter of sugars and spices. Shane dunked his store-bought cookies into milk lightly flavored with chocolate syrup, yet he still seemed jealous when he smelled what was cooking at 8:00 last night. "You can't possibly eat all that for lunch tomorrow," Shane observed.

"Perhaps I'll share the rest," I answered.

Perhaps, but Monday dawns so brightly, so quickly.

Friday Frijoles

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, green germ removed, chopped
dash of cayenne pepper
2 tsp. cumin
3 cups cooked black beans, un-drained
1 large roasted red pepper, chopped
2 or 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Couple sprigs of fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
Chopped fresh cilantro and lime wedges to serve

Heat olive oil over medium heat. Soften onion in olive oil for 5 minutes. Add garlic, cayenne pepper, and cumin. From here, don't stand over the pot and inhale. After a minute or two of constant stirring so the garlic doesn't burn, add the beans, bell pepper, two tablespoons of the vinegar, thyme and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir frequently as the beans will stick to the bottom of the pot if neglected (and I know this because I sometimes do neglect my beans). Remove from heat, discard bay leaf and thyme sprigs, adjust seasonings, add more vinegar if the taste buds scream for it. Serve over cooked rice, and garnish with fresh cilantro, lime wedges, and a few glasses of Modelo Especial.

Leftovers make a great Saturday breakfast -- just heat and add sliced avocados (Modelo optional.)

Late Spring's Desire; Summer's Hope Blooms Eternally

There’s an angst growing everyday as I await every eggplant variety, the hideously ugly heirloom tomato, and anise-scented basil leaves large enough to serve as lettuce on my BLT, ahem, BBT. If every herb standing at attention makes it into my basket (and believe me, they will), the excess goes into clean jars, and topped with olive oil, they’re preserved in my refrigerator for a taste of summer herbs when the thermometer again dips into the 50s, 40s, and 30s. It’s time for farmer’s market season.

While the trees are still struggling to bloom, it’s the love of tomatoes that causes me to lament – the memory of their sweet flesh and juicy finish taunt me as I prowl the grocery store and stumble upon their December counterfeit. It’s not soon enough, my mind reminds me daily, and just when I think I’m losing hope, tomatoes will spill from countertops onto windowsills, decorate the dining room table, only to eventually snake into the living area where a bowl of Green Zebras and Brandywines sit atop my antique coffee table not collecting dust, but instead attracting eyes and mouths and olfactory nerves until I audaciously seize them and roast them.

Roasting tomatoes is the ultimate triumph of my summer, and in the off-months, my favorite canned, whole Roma tomatoes will suffice; they will have to suffice. There have been a number of times I’ve almost succumbed to the December tomato; my eyes and mouth water for summer. However, I have had success in roasting canned whole tomatoes. The texture is not spot-on to fresh, but the flavor is fresh, succulent, and beats any cardboard tomato I eyeball in the supermarket. A long, low temperature roasting not only brings out the balance between tomato’s natural sweetness and acidity, it also breaks down the flesh to create an easy sauce made even more pungent with roasted garlic, olive oil, a pinch of sugar, salt, and pepper.

And turn a can of plain, whole tomatoes into a thick, garlicky sauce is exactly what I did to put a little oomph into a Spanish tortilla and ease my angst until I can pick out my own beauties from summer stalls.

Spanish Tortilla

Serves 4

4 or 5 small red-skinned potatoes, whole, boiled
8 large eggs
A few generous dashes of salt
Pinch of cayenne or crushed red pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium onion, chopped

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F.

Slice potatoes into rounds. Set aside.

Whisk eggs, salt, and red pepper in large bowl until well blended. Mix in potatoes. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large ovenproof skillet over high heat. Add onion; sauté until golden, about 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium and carefully add the additional tablespoon of olive oil. Add egg mixture; cook 3 minutes, occasionally stirring egg from sides of skillet. Place skillet in oven and bake eggs until set in center and no longer wet on top, about 20 minutes.

Remove tortilla from oven. Immediately place skillet on cold wet kitchen towel to prevent further cooking. Let stand 2 minutes. Run spatula around edge of skillet and under tortilla. Lift skillet and tilt, sliding tortilla onto platter. Cut into wedges and serve with Garlicky Tomato Sauce and a nice, crisp salad (salad suggestion follows).


Not Quite Summertime Garlicky Tomato Sauce

1 28 oz can whole tomatoes, juices drained
Pinch of sugar
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 heads garlic
Good pour of olive oil
5 or 6 stems of fresh thyme

Heat oven to 300 degrees.

In a casserole dish or ovenproof pot, arrange the tomatoes on the bottom being careful not to overlap or crowd the tomatoes. You want them to get a bit of a caramelized texture and taste. Use more than one dish if necessary. Overcrowding with steam rather than caramelize the tomatoes. Sprinkle a bit of sugar over the tomatoes and finish with salt and freshly ground pepper. Slice the top off each head of garlic and tuck each head into the tomatoes. Pour a good amount of olive oil (1/4 cup should do it), and tuck in the fresh thyme stems. Roast for 3 to 4 hours, or until tomatoes and garlic are browning nicely, and garlic is soft and sweet. Remove from oven and discard the thyme. Let the dish cool for a bit, and then squeeze the soft cloves from the garlic skins. Discard skins, and mash garlic and tomatoes together to form a thick sauce. Adjust seasonings if necessary.


Feta and Lime Tossed Salad

Serves 2 medium-sized salads; double for 4 people

1 small head romaine lettuce, chopped
3-4 ounces Feta cheese (sheep or goat preferable)
4 scallions, white and some green part chopped
1/2 medium lime
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt and freshely pepper to taste

Combine lettuce, cheese, and scallions in a medium bowl. Squeeze lime over greens, drizzle olive oil over, season with salt and pepper, and toss salad until the dressing is incorporated into the greens.

Gnocchi Redeemed

After I wrote about my humble attempt at gnocchi, I can proudly proclaim that I have redeemed these sweet little packages of potato and punchy garlic. How many times have I tried to make things worlds more complicated than necessary? If the hair wants to part on the left, let it part on the left. If your significant other is grouchy, leave them be. If the gnocchi tastes heavenly on its own, run with it – which is exactly what I did on a weekday evening.

In anticipation of picking up my new bike from a bike shop that closed at 8:00 p.m., I knew a fast one was in order. Knowing I had some frozen gnocchi from my original batch, it was time to test how satisfied I could feel after a lightly seasoned plate of gnocchi and green salad. Playing off the flavors of garlic and sweet potato, I quickly made a brown butter sauce with two tablespoons of unsalted butter, two chopped shallots and some fresh thyme (shallots and thyme are my routine -- hello delicious routine).

As the shallots softened and the butter browned, I brought a large pot of water to boil, and, straight from the freezer, dumped in the remainder of the gnocchi. For an additional twist to my original gnocchi dish, after I boiled the gnocchi, I threw them into the skillet with the brown butter, shallots, and thyme. I browned each little potato pillow until they absorbed most of the taste and glistened with butter. Now this, this, is how my redeemed gnocchi came to be.

My bike, well, it’s still sitting at the bike shop waiting for its timid owner to claim it. Unfortunately as Shane and I were tucking into our evening vittles, predicted rain came true – in downpours. Emilie vs. Bike? Well, I have tackled gnocchi, and now I’m ready for another challenge.

Can It Brie So Simple?

It can brie Goat brie!

Shane and I entertained our first couple for supper yesterday evening. Wanting to serve our main course hot (or at the very least, fresh), I waited until our guests arrived before searing three plump and tender pork chops to serve in my Shane-requested port wine cream sauce. However, our newly arrived and ravenous guests would not go hungry, and chips and dip a la Emilie were quickly devoured.

I wanted an impressive, yet fuss-free appetizer to fend off impatient hungries. Goat brie, conveniently packaged in an edible crust and gently heated, lends its tangy, creamy qualities to an instant dip. On its own, the cheese's flavor works well with apples and plain water crackers or slices of baguette, spread with butter and lightly toasted. As acceptable as these alternative appealed to me, I wanted to try an appetizer I'd been concocting in my head -- a dinner party-worthy cheese dip, sans any shelf-stable jar or box of cheese product. Fresh herbs, a few chopped scallions, and freshly ground pepper are all the components for an appetizer casual and elegant -- enough to complement burgers and beer on the lawn or pork chops around the dining room table.

So Simple Thyme and Brie Dip

Serves 4 guests, hungry and awaiting the supper that sizzling on the stove.

1 round brie, goat or cow (about 4.5 - 5 ounces)
Handful chopped fresh thyme
4 scallions, chopped, including some green from the tops
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Carefully slice the top off the brie. Discard it, or save it for later (or just eat it when no one is looking). Place cheese in an oven save dish (and for ease of removing dish from the oven, place dish on a baking sheet), and bake it for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is soft and runny.

Remove dish from the oven, and add the thyme, chopped scallions, reserving a few green pieces for garnish) and freshly ground pepper to the cheese and mix into the brie, being careful not to break through the crust. Place dish back into the oven for 10 minutes. Remove dish from oven 5 minutes before serving, and over the top of the cheese, scatter the remaining scallion greens. Serve with gourmet potato chips.

Now I Gnocchi!

It’s just plain fun to say “gnocchi.” Perhaps this is what prompted me to try this silky and luscious potato dumpling.

Shane: What are we having for supper this evening?
Emilie: Gnocchi. Giggle, snort.

For those who want to pronounce ga-nawchee (much the way I pronounced it until a friend of mine who claims to be Italian laughingly corrected me), repeat aloud: no-chee. Almost akin to saying “no-cheese,” but my gnocchi had Parmigianino grated into the dough.

Admittedly, my little dumplings were not very eye-appealing. Because they were so sticky, as I plopped them one-by-one into boiling water, I could not keep them in their original, pillow-shaped stage. Gnocchi are fickle little guys. At first they want plenty of flour to bind the potatoes, eggs, and spices. However, too much flour and they become bloated and anchored, refusing to free their little gnocchi-selves to rise to the top of the boiling water. Wouldn’t you just gnocchi?

To dignify the not-so-uniform appearance of my gnocchi, I topped the gnocchi with some of my basic marinara enhanced with a touch of well-aged and earthy Gorgonzola cheese. Without the added blue cheese, marinara sauce is just red sauce: tomatoes, onion, garlic, olive oil, and fresh basil. It’s meant to top pizza crusts, be mixed with meat and wine for ragu, or sometimes added to Italian soups for extra punch. If I have some marinara in the freezer, I’ve been known to make a bean and tomato sauce with bacon, and in a pinch on a busy night and when the budget says “recess,” it is tasty enough to toss with plain pasta, cheese or no cheese. Gnocchi, however, is no plain pasta. With enough body to strut in only stilettos, less is certainly more when it comes to how gnocchi should dress. Fitting a lightly sweetened gnocchi with a heavy sweater of red is a fall fashion travesty. How will I do things differently next time? To serve the gnocchi with browned butter mingled with fresh thyme could quite possibly become my fall of ’08 runway hit.

Just the Gnocchi:

Four servings

1 pound russet potatoes
1 pound orange-fleshed sweet potatoes
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
2 cloves of garlic, green germ removed and minced
½ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ teaspoon salt
A couple of pinches of nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper
1 ¼ to 1 ½ cups all purpose flour plus more for dusting

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Prick russet and sweet potatoes, wrap them each in foil, and bake for 1 hour or until soft. Remove from oven and let cool. Once potatoes have cooled enough to handle, peel potatoes and pat off any excess water. Using a standard potato masher, mash potatoes together in a large bowl. Try to mash as many lumps out as you can, although I admit that I left a few lumps on accident. It didn’t seem to hurt the texture. If you own a potato ricer, dust it off, thank the person who gave it to you as an oddball present, and try it. I wish I had one.

Bring a pot of water to boil. Rip up some sheets. Panic. Oh, wait, I’m not in a sitcom and Lucy is not giving birth. However, do start a pot of water to boil because after the flour is added to the dough, you will want to test a dumpling.

Make a well in the mashed potatoes. Add the egg and egg yolk, garlic, cheese, salt, nutmeg, and pepper. Mix well. My hands were the best instrument in this case. Go ahead, get them dirty. Sprinkle about a ½ cup of flour over the mixture and press it in to the dough. Fold dough and sprinkle over more flour. Keep doing this with the remainder of the flour until the dough begins to hold together. You may not need all the flour. In fact, I’d recommend not using all the flour. When the dough is rolled, it will pick up more flour, and you do not want overly-floured gnocchi dough. Do not be afraid of sticky dough. Yes, sticky dough does make ugly gnocchi, but too stiff of a dough will produce a heavy dumpling that will not float. Form a ½ inch piece from the dough and drop it into the boiling water. It should only take about 1 – 1 ½ minutes for the dumpling to float. If the dumpling looks feathery and eventually falls apart, add more flour to the dough. If the dumpling does not float, too much flour has been added to the dough.

Much like an Olympic swimmer soaring to the water’s surface, I’m sure your test piece of gnocchi swam flawlessly to the top of the water. So now the dough is ready to roll and cut. Sprinkle a bit of flour on your work surface, and flour your hands. Divide the dough into 4 to 6 pieces. Keeping the unused dough covered, roll each piece into a ½ inch log and with a serrated knife cut log into ½ inch pieces. The pieces will not be pretty, and your stomach will not care. Continue rolling and cutting with the remainder of the dough keeping the unused dough and formed gnocchi covered.

I hope your water is still boiling. In batches, submerge the dumplings into the boiling water. With a slotted spoon, be ready to scoop the dumplings as they start floating toward the top. It’s likely they will not all cook at the same time, so don’t leave the early developers while you’re waiting for the rest of the dumplings to rise to the surface. Let cooked gnocchi drain in a strainer. After all the gnocchi are cooked, serve with your choice of sauce, keeping in mind you don’t want to cover the delicate taste and texture with anything heavy. Serve with a light salad and a medium-dry white wine.

*Make extra gnocchi and freeze uncooked gnocchi on a cookie sheet lined with wax paper. Once frozen (about an hour later) place gnocchi in a freezer safe bag. When ready to cook, no thawing is necessary; just cook the frozen gnocchi as usual. Talk about an easy weeknight meal!

Mangia!

Okay, I wanted to shout something Italian, and the first thing that came to mind was, “MANGIA!” which roughly translates to the English word EATS! It seemed appropriate enough. Eats, eats! To eat is what we wanted on Friday evening, as two skinny creatures who emerged from an Italian hibernation only to shout, “We wants to MANGIA!” And we wanted to "MANGIA" fast. Using lavish from our favorite Lebanese bakery and a few provisions I had in the fridge, I quickly assembled Friday night's fare. There was even enough time after supper for Shane and I to play Rummy, every game of which I graciously lost.

This time I did time how long it took me to prepare and serve our vittles :

5:45 p.m.: walk in door; greet Shane; change from work clothes into jeans and a sweater; take care of necessary “functions”; wash hands; preheat oven to 450-475 degrees.

6:00 p.m.: thaw lavish in microwave; wash, peel off skin, and thinly slice red onions; chop green olives; crumble feta cheese; wash and chop fresh thyme.

6:15: spread lavish onto cookie sheet; brush with olive oil; scatter feta cheese; scatter onions and olives; pop cookie sheet into oven.

6:16: sip some merlot.

6:20: chop pre-washed romaine lettuce and toss into bowl; throw in extra sliced onions; shred some Parmigianino over lettuce; slice one lemon in half; set lemon aside.

6:21: sip some merlot

6:25: check pizzas and notice they are browning along the edges and cheese is starting to brown and melt; turn off oven but keep pizzas in oven.

6:26: dress salad with juice from half the lemon, tablespoon olive oil, salt, and freshly ground pepper; toss salad.

6:30: remove pizza from oven and cut each piece in half.

6:32: toast dinner with Shane and tuck in.

Including preheating the oven, I had supper on the table in approximately 47 minutes. You too can enjoy a fast and tasty flat bread pizza! Additions such as roasted red peppers (patted dry if juicy), slices of cured beef or Prosciutto, and fresh basil (wait until the pizza comes from the oven to add fresh basil) would be wonderful variations.

Oh, oh, oh, I also think goat brie, sliced figs, and Serrano ham with fresh thyme would oh so divine…

Flat Bread Pizzas (serves 2 for a full meal, 4 to 6 for appetizers):

2 large pieces lavish bread (each almost 12 inches in length)
Olive oil
4 oz feta cheese, crumbled
¼ red onion, thinly sliced
5 or 6 Spanish or Greek green olives, chopped
Handful chopped fresh thyme

Preheat oven to 450-475 degrees (I hit my dial somewhere in the middle).

Arrange lavish breads on cookie sheet and fold each in half lengthwise and crosswise. Brush with olive oil. Scatter over top feta cheese, onions, and green olives. Pop cookie sheet in oven, and bake pizzas for 10-15 minutes, or until brown on the edges and cheese begins to melt. Watch closely and check after 10 minutes so flat bread doesn’t burn. Remove pizzas from the oven and scatter thyme over the top. Cut in piece in 2-4 pieces. Serve with a crisp romaine salad. Shane and I even took some of our crispy edges from the pizza and threw them into the salad. What convenience – pizzas with built in croutons. After a few sips of merlot, I feel like a genius!

Happy Easter!

Please do not think the only thing I did this Easter weekend was construct a bunny from 2 baguettes, a boule, and a couple of raisins. I also napped, watched several movies, and shared an entire bottle of champagne with Shane (over the course of a day, not in one sitting). It was a very productive, albeit cold weekend. In the course of my weekend, I saw more snowmen than bunnies.

Even as we wolfed our Easter evening quiche, I gazed at snow-glistened rooftops of the flats behind our kitchen window. How hard was it for little Easter boys and girls to find their neon green and magenta colored eggs in the half-melted snow?

To brighten up our not-quite-spring weather, I formulated and experimented with quiche. A light quiche, if possible, and there are tricks to lighten quiches. I’ve seen recipes for both going crust-less quiches and quiches that use a simple mashed potato crust. But hey, what’s a traditional holiday without a little butter and cream -- Just a bit of both? Okay, a bit of cream and a lot of butter. Balance – it’s all about balance.

Forget potatoes, forget a non-existent crust and give me flaky, buttery, browned goodness. Quiche crust, I’m not afraid to do 300 crunches the next morning. (There are no witnesses, but I did do 300 crunches the next morning.) I am an all butter pie crust gal. Crisco scares me, and I still cannot bring myself to use lard (although if I were put into a smoke-filled interrogation room with the blinds drawn and the ceiling fan whirling and causing a shadow upon the table, I would tearfully admit to preferring lard over Crisco before wiping my eyes with my blood red, 1-inch long fingernails).

For those who are intimidated by a pie crust more than being interrogated in a film noir, Gourmet’s all butter pastry dough is a no-brainer. As all good things, it only takes a bit of time to create something memorable (or at the very least, edible).

Shane and I agreed a quiche with asparagus and goat cheese sounded divine, reminiscent of an omelet we had at a nearby diner. However, after searching the internet for a simple goat cheese and asparagus quiche, nothing I found quite passed the Emilie standard. Most recipes called for both heavy cream and whole milk. I keep 1% milk in the fridge for me, and 2% milk for Shane. I don’t have room in either my fridge or my pants for either whole milk or cream. Forget bikini season, I’m just trying to make my skinny jeans go from eye popping to only slightly crushing my spleen. I do, however, keep a small container of fully fattening sour cream. Sour cream has saved me from cluttering my fridge with both buttermilk and heavy cream. From pancakes to potato soup to (now) quiche… oh forget it. I may as well be wearing a ruffled apron and an unnaturally white smile.

I have my crust, I have my main ingredients, and now I have a milk plan. For every 3 parts milk (using 2% milk), use 1 part sour cream, combine in a jar, and vigorously shake. Voila! The milk comes out thicker than whole milk, but not as rich or fattening as pure cream.

Eggs – how many eggs does it take to make a quiche? Two, but I wouldn’t ask them to check out my breaker box. From my quiche-search, the number of eggs

to fill a 9 inch crust varied from 3 large to 6 large. What is a girl to do? With a willingness to completely screw up my recipe, I penciled a formula: for a 9-inch pie dish, use 2 whole eggs and 2 eggs yolk

s combined with 1 cup milk, or 1 cup of combined milk and sour cream. The rest of my quiche plan came together easily.

Here is the formula I concocted for a 9-inch pie plate:

1 9-inch pie crust

2 medium shallots, sliced
12 oz fresh asparagus, woody ends trimmed, and cut into 1-inch pieces on the diagonal
1 tablespoon butter

2 large eggs
2 egg yolks (from large eggs)
¼ cup sour cream
¾ cup 2% milk
3 scallions, white and some green, chopped
Salt and pepper

8 oz soft goat cheese, cut into 15 rounds
Fresh thyme


Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Roll out pie crust and fit into 9-inch pie plate. Set aside in refrigerator until ready to use.

In a large pan over medium heat, sauté shallots and asparagus in butter until asparagus are crisp tender, about 5-8 minutes. Do not overcook asparagus or they’ll become mushy in quiche.

While asparagus is sautéing, combine sour cream and milk in a jar, and shake vigorously until sour cream is incorporated into milk. Combine milk and sour cream mixture with whole eggs, egg yolks, and scallions and whisk until eggs are pale yellow and well incorporated. Season with salt and pepper.

Remove pie crust from refrigerator. Crumble and scatter half the goat cheese rounds on the bottom of the crust. Top goat cheese with asparagus and shallots, and pour egg mixture over asparagus. Dot the top of the mixture with remaining goat cheese rounds, distributing them evenly.

Bake on middle rack of the oven for 35 minutes. Quiche will not be completely set, and that’s okay; it’ll continue to cook after it’s removed from the oven. Let quiche cool for 10 minutes or up to several hours (I made mine 2 hours in advance). Serve at room temperature (of, if you must, “nuke” it Shane-style).

Conclusion: Creamy, smooth, and light, even for a dish wrapped in butter and flour. What would I do differently? For starters, I need to measure our pie plate. I have it ingrained in my brain that it’s a 9-inch pie plate, but my filling left a lot of exposed pie crust. For those who love crusts, this may not be an issue. Personally I desire more balance between filling and crust. For my next quiche, I plan on upping the egg quantity to 3 whole eggs and 3 yolks, while increasing the milk mixture to 1 ½ cups. Also, as a request from Shane, I will cut back the amount of goat cheese to about 7 ounces, crumbled and scattered more into the quiche rather than artfully arranged on the top layer. Cheese, butter, and sour cream may not help me fit into my skinny jeans, although I did compromise by forgoing a rich dessert. By eating my bread bunny’s raisin eyes, I compensated.

Carbonara Nights

Four days ago I had enough provisions to feed an army of 500, fresh from the training field. This morning, with a slight panic, I discovered I’m down to a knob of Parmigianino, one onion, one bunch of broccoli, a head of garlic, and some wilting celery and parsnips. The onion must be saved for tomorrow night’s black bean soup. Forget the parsnips and celery, they just don’t sound attractive to me today.

Tonight, in front of my stove, I am Ricky Bobby; “I ‘wanna’ go fast.” Thank the heavens that I keep a few staples on hand, including both pasta and eggs. By combining my love of Spaghetti Alla Carbonara and Shane’s love of roasted broccoli, I created a pretty sophisticated meal from almost a bare pantry.

Gemelli Alla Carbonara di Brocoletti

Really, you can use any pasta you have in the pantry. I had whole wheat gemelli and linguini. I preferred the gemelli, as the smaller pasta turns this dish into a grown-up version of macaroni and cheese.

Start a large pot of water to boil and ignore it. Slice the top off a head of garlic and wrap in foil. Cut the tough stalks off two small heads of broccoli. Complement the small shape of the pasta by cutting off the stems of the broccoli, and cut heads into florets about an inch or so across. Toss broccoli with a tablespoon or two of olive oil, salt, sweet paprika, and a touch of cayenne pepper.

Roast both the broccoli and the garlic in a 425 degree oven until the broccoli is brown and crispy, and the garlic is soft and mellow. Grate a good chunk of Parmigiano-Reggiano into a large bowl; beat in one egg, a generous dash of salt and a good grinding of black pepper. Once the water is boiling and just before taking the broccoli and garlic out of the oven, add about 3 oz or so of pasta to the boiling water. While the pasta cooks, remove broccoli and garlic from the oven, and carefully squish the garlic from its papers. Chop the garlic if necessary. Once the pasta cooks, (mine took a mere 5 minutes), quickly drain the pasta, cooked al dente of course, and immediately toss the hot pasta into the bowl with the egg and cheese mixture. Toss. Keep tossing. Okay, stop tossing long enough to add the broccoli and garlic to the pasta. If you please, toss the pasta mixture again. If there is Parmigianino leftover, sprinkle a bit on top, or save it for a salad. Serve immediately, or as soon as you can pull Shane away from nytimes.com.

This isn’t quite “Shake and Bake”, more like roast and toss, but it’s still pretty fast!

Not Just Another Tom, Dick, or Harry

As one may conclude from most of my posts, one of my biggest challenges as a cook lies in how interestingly I can prepare vegetables as a main dish. But even more so is how I present the meal to Shane when he asks "What's for supper tonight?". If I answer "lentils and kale" or "sweet potato soup," quite often the lackluster name is greeted with doubt and un-enthusiasm. You mean a plate heaped with gently simmered lentils and grass-green kale doesn't make one's mouth water? What if I said I'm serving both over whole wheat penne? Still, doesn't do the trick, does it? Once the smell of caramelized onions float over the kitchen, once I season tender kale, once I poor the water from the perfectly chewy pasta, once I place a plate of this humble meal on the table, a hungry Shane ignores the bland name. Taste, texture, and sight replace chagrin. "It didn't sound very appetising, but the taste, wow!"

I fancy myself a seasoned vegetarian cook, but I still have issues with making vegetables sound appetising. When I write the weekly menu, sometimes I try to give the dish its proper Italian, French, or Persian name, but this more often is met with a perplexed "huh?", and I have to answer with the crude, American name: butternut squash with pasta; puréed cauliflower soup; eggplant and yogurt dip.

It's not until I place a colorful meal on the table that Shane's interest is piqued. If I've happened to serve chicken next to vividly hued cinnamon roasted carrots or a few shrimp bathing in a spicy curry accompanied by crispy and nutty green beans, the vegetables literally leave the meat cold. And instead of discussing the current political scene or what happened in our individual lives that day, our conversation in steered to how we can develop a meal that focuses only on green beans or carrots.

Ditch the cinnamon. No, keep the cinnamon and maybe some cumin. How about a salad? What about your roasted baby potatoes. Perhaps make some of that lemon tahini sauce with all the garlic. With a side of red lentil soup. What about just making roasted potatoes to dip in a fondue-like mix of melted Gruyère cheese? With some of your roasted cauliflower. That sounds hearty. Would a side salad with toasted walnuts and balsamic vinegar work?

Several years into my game, and it's finally dawned on me. What's in a name? Potato, cauliflower, and carrot fondue? Yawn to yuck. What's in a description? Crisp and tender roasted potatoes and cauliflower with a nutty Gruyère fondue. Mmmm... Is anyone taking notes?

Labor of Intense Like

Beautiful food relies upon simplistic and raw ingredients to fit together and create layers of flavor, one flavor no more important than any other. As the tree-costumed actor is important to the whole of the play, the dash of pepper brings a new depth to the tuna salad. However, at times pairing the simplest ingredients can prove complex, causing the cook to wonder if all the fuss is worth the end result, and perhaps she should just settle for a tuna melt.

I've had the recipe for Barley and Asparagus Risotto ("Mission: Meatless”, Gourmet Magazine April 2007) in my to-make list for months. Lately I’ve been braver in my attempts to center my meals on strictly vegetarian dishes, and Sunday evening seemed the perfect time to prepare this hearty and rustic risotto – a dish that eventually turned into a three hour project. I dare say that if I were more specific in asking Shane to look for shelled hazelnuts instead of ones that had to be shelled, I would have shaved 30 to 45 minutes from the preparation time. Fortunately, Shane is sport and a mighty fine sous-chef. Using only a pair of pliers and brute determination, Shane sweetly shelled an entire bag of hazelnuts for me. But the remainder of the risotto project was entirely in my hands. To give credit to Kemp Minifie, executive food editor of Gourmet and author of the article “Mission: Meatless”, several steps in the recipe can be done in advance, although the overall preparation was fiddly and time-consuming.

I like this risotto. I like the idea of using the asparagus cooking water instead of broth. I like the crunch of the hazelnuts. I even like taking every step to ensure each ingredient's flavor is showcased. I would like to make this risotto on a weeknight, after advanced preparation of the asparagus tips and puree (saving the cooking water). Shane did suggest that a lightly seared tuna steak would go well with the risotto, forgoing the vegetarian idea. In my opinion, the risotto can stand by itself as a main dish, paired with a light salad or some roasted vegetables. I served roasted broccoli on the side, but I feared our plates held too much green. Next time I may pair the risotto with a simple radish salad. For a special occastion, I may try topping the risotto with slivers of prosciutto or serving it alongside a grilled porkchop or seared tuna steak. Versatility.

It's a Man-Eat Salad World

Yes, that's my Shane, clad in his stocking cap and happily eating my Winter Harvest Salad. Why the stocking cap? Does it give the illusion of a day of skiing in the Alps only to take a break to feast on a medley of leafy greens, crispy croutons, and blue cheese? Not so. It was below the 20 degree mark outside and a mere mere 59 degrees inside our apartment due to our landlord’s not turning on the heat. Perhaps I should decorate the dining room in a fall landscape and invite people in to enjoy the crisp weather, beautiful scenery, and hot apple cider. Or perhaps I should just pair this salad with a piping hot bowl of butternut squash soup and save on extra traffic in my dining room.

The "symphony of flavors" Winter Harvest Salad was an excuse to use the leftover cornbread muffins from Sunday. After a few (wary) bites of the salad, Shane gleefully described the taste and texture of the salad as a symphony. Should I rename it Symphony Salad? Regardless, it doesn't take much effort to pull this vegetarian salad together. Adding a bit of crumbled bacon and/or smoked chicken will satisfy those who must have meat, although it's hearty enough without. The following served two of us as a main dish. When served as a side, there should be enough for 4 people.


Winter Harvest Salad

Maple Vinaigrette:

The Maple Vinaigrette will be more than you need for this amount of greens. Store remainder in the refrigerator for up to a week.

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil or walnut oil
1/4 cup real maple syrup
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Warm the oil and syrup. Put vinegar and mustard into a medium bown, and whisk in warmed oil and syrup until mixture is emulsified. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Dressing can be made ahead and stored in the refrigerator for up to a week. Bring to room temperature before serving (or gently heat), and whisk to emulsify.

Croutons and Toasted Walnuts:
1/4 cup walnuts
2 -3 leftover cornbread muffins or wedges

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Dice cornbread into 1 inch squares. Arrange on a cookie sheet. Spread walnuts on a separate sheet. Bake walnuts until toasted, 10-20 minutes, but watch closely so they don't burn. Bake cornbread squares 20-30 minutes, until crispy. Walnuts can be toasted ahead of time and stored in the fridge for several weeks. Croutons can be make ahead and stored in an airtight container for 3 or 4 days.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes:
2 sweet potatoes, cut into chunks, peeling optional
2 shallots, quartered
1 sprig fresh rosemary, chopped
Pinch of hot pepper flakes (optional)
Olive oil

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Toss sweet potatoes and shallots with the rosemary, pepper flakes and olive oil. Arrange on a cookie sheet and roast for 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender.

Salad:
4 oz leafy greens (I used a spring greens mix)
Roasted sweet potatoes
Roasted shallots
3 oz blue cheese such as Stilton, Gorgonzola, or Maytag Blue
Toasted walnuts
3 - 4 tablespoons of Maple Vinaigrette
Cornbread croutons.

Toss greens, sweet potatoes, shallots, blue cheese and walnuts with vinaigrette. Top with cornbread croutons. If you must, crumble a little smoked bacon to top the salad alongside the croutons.