About a week ago I found a link to an article on the myth of easy cooking–in it the author claims that cooking for the most part isn’t very easy or fast, and with so many ways of ordering food made available to us, sometimes it’s simply much, much faster to get some relatively-wholesome food via Seamless or similar. On one hand, she’s right because if you did take her approach and stop at the market every day for ingredients and then set down to cook them when you got home from work, it would take an enormous amount of time. Read More
It’s funny–for Super Bowl Sunday, I’m either totally in the mood for the traditional fare of the day like chili or nachos, or I feel like eating something completely inappropriate. This year was definitely the latter, so we did this whole spread of French small plates and drank a very fancy cocktail that involved turmeric-infused gin. We watched the game sporadically but given that neither of us are big football watchers (we all know my allegiance is to soccer) compounded with the fact that any team we might have remote interest completely imploded this past season it didn’t feel super-pressing to keep it on all night. Read More
While only the most intense heat and extreme humidity will keep us from roasting a chicken, I have to admit that now that the temperatures are getting cooler again and it’s becoming seasonally appropriate to roast a bird for Sunday supper and it’s actually quite nice and very comforting to do so. This blog has captured the many iterations we’ve done over the years, from Ina Garten’s engagement chicken to a Spanish-style lemon and saffron version to a Roman-style chicken replete with olive oil and fresh herbs, but this one pictured above might be my favorite one we’ve tried. It comes from the cookbook Puglia–one of the cookbooks I called out in last week’s gift guide–and it might be the perfect chicken to have on a chilly Sunday night between now and the start of winter because to me it combines the best of fall’s flavors with a little more substance than a typical roasted chicken. In fact, were it possible to somehow get a turkey to taste like this chicken I would be far less inclined to agree with Jake Peralta from Brooklyn Nine-Nine that turkey tastes like napkins. Read More
Labor Day weekend is almost here, and while some may be celebrating because their kids are back in school, I’m celebrating because it’s definitely the best time of year for produce. Tomatoes are hitting their peak, stone fruits are flourishing, and some of those early autumn treats are starting to trickle into stores and farmers markets. One of the things I really miss about living in New York was going down the Union Square Greenmarket during this time of year, because leaving the subway station around 15th street by the NQR line meant that you would be inundated by the heady scent of the best produce the market had to offer as you walked up the stairs, and inevitably you would then be smack in the middle of so many possibilities. It seriously ranks up there on my list of favorite smells along with the Mediterranean Sea.
In honor of the holiday weekend and the bounty of deliciousness at your disposal right now, I’m going to share some of my favorite ways to enjoy the best the season has to offer. Read More
The arrival of August brought with it significantly more comfortable weather than one would normally expect this time of year, but more importantly coincided with the arrival of The Mind of a Chef’s third season on Netflix. We had DVR’d as much of the season as we could last fall, but of course with the move we had to give up the box and either wait not-so-patiently to appear on our streaming networks or bite the bullet and buy the season outright. (We probably would have done the latter if PBS didn’t break up the DVDs by chef, which is kind of annoying on their part, but so it goes.) Like season two the episodes are split between two chefs, with the first half devoted to Edward Lee (he was on the ninth season of Top Chef) and the second to Mangus Nilsson (his restaurant in Sweden is ranked 25th-best in the world as of 2015). They both bring some really interesting worldviews to the series, whether it’s ice fishing in the pale blue dawn or taking us through favorite haunts in Queens, and their styles of food are both so different from what we usually make that it’s so much fun to immerse yourself and binge-watch the whole series at once. Read More
Given how limited the blood orange’s season used to be, it’s definitely a little odd still seeing them in store but if this means I can enjoy them a little longer, then so be it. I’ve been using the combination quite a bit in prosecco-based cocktails over the course of the winter to great success, but ever since my last batch of kumquat-rosemary marmalade I wanted to see what a blood orange and rosemary marmalade would taste like. In search of something interesting to accompany some cheeses I had in mind for our houseguests this past weekend, I decided that if the produce stand at Cross Street still had serviceable blood oranges I’d finally give this variation a try.
The main issue I was concerned about was the matter of the pith underneath the oranges’ skin, because unlike with kumquats, there is usually a sizable layer of the bitter white stuff between the fruit and the skin in an orange and I was worried it would make the whole marmalade too bitter to enjoy. I’m not sure what I was worried about, as we’ve cooked down lemon wheels with chicken and I’ve eaten them whole with abandon so many times, but my fears were completely unfounded. The marmalade does benefit from sitting in the fridge overnight before serving, though, because the flavors need a little time to meld together in the best possible way.
Like with all things blood orange, though, perhaps the best part of this marmalade is that it turns into this brilliant red-orange mixture, so you know it’s going to look as appealing on a board or on a cracker as it tastes. This will likely serve as a mighty fine evening snack this week for those days I need to make dinner or even just unwind a bit, and now I feel doubly intrigued to try this recipe with some other citrus fruits while they are still in the store.
In the meantime, try to find a couple of blood oranges and try this for yourself. You won’t be disappointed.
Blood Orange Marmalade
adapted from ‘wichcraft
- 2 blood oranges, sliced into thin rings and then cut into quarters
- 1 small rosemary sprig plus one spring of rosemary minced
- 12 crushed peppercorns
- 1/4 sugar
- 1/4 water
Bring the water and sugar together and stir until dissolved in a medium saucepan. Add the blood oranges, rosemary sprig, and pepper and combine well, then bring the saucepan to a simmer and let the mixture simmer for 10-15 minutes, or until the oranges are translucent and the sugar has formed a thin syrup. Add the minced rosemary and let cool, and then transfer to a container to store. Serve as desired and use within a week or so.
A few weeks ago I stumbled across a fantastic article in which a writer for Vice’s food site invited a French sommelier to test out some wines that are blatantly and shamelessly targeted at women. The results are exactly what you think they would be, as the tasting notes from both Perrine Prieur (the sommelier) and Gray Chapman (the writer) are hysterical. Prieur has no qualms in declaring one red “like a bad tank that hasn’t been cleaned, that they’re just throwing shit into,” while Chapman slayed me with several quips that I won’t spoil for you here.
It might seem like an easy premise for a bunch of laughs–ooo, the fancy French sommelier doesn’t like mass-produced wine–but it’s pretty clear that Prieur came to this experiment with an extremely open mind and was just crestfallen every time the alleged varietal was revealed to her. More importantly, she made a point of showing Chapman several wines in her own shop that were less expensive and more complex than any of the ones that were part of the taste test, and that’s the reason why Prieur has rocketed onto my list of favorite lady sommeliers along with Gretchen Thomas of the Barteca restaurant group.*