le sauce

burrata with pumpkin seed pesto and chlies

Not a recipe, just a suggestion.

I've sung the praises of burrata before. So good, I like to have it as simply as possible:

1. Grill or lightly toast a thick, airy slice of bread, rub it lightly with a cut clove of garlic and season with salt while it's still hot. 
2. Quarter a ball of burrata lengthwise, lay a slice on top and press/smear it over the crostini with the back of your spoon. 
3. FInish with some fresh, finely sliced or baby basil leaves, a drizzle of your best extra virgin olive oil, a sprinkle of Maldon salt and the tiniest bit of freshly cracked black pepper. 
4. Eat and ascend to the heavens simultaneously.

Pesto while all about intense flavour, is as simple too. I like to experiment with it--you take any nut, any herb, any cheese, even change up the oil and away you go.

I put the these two together when I want to spoil myself or someone else. A pumpkin seed pesto and a little chili oil on burrata is a great idea, if you need one. You probably don't though--whatever you're craving at the moment will be far more satisfying than anything anyone else suggests. I would only advise, if you're spurging on burrata, you might as well get yourself the best bread you can find and top it with the best salt you have on hand. Break the burrata apart any way you'd like, serve slivers even. And ok, one last word, pick this up and bite into it. Don't even think of denying your teeth the pleasure of sinking in.

One standard-size piece of burrata should serve 4 people who want a taste--6 even if you're serving this with bread, as suggested. It could also serve 3 greedy people. Or 2, very unwise people, who will not feel so great half an hour after eating too much of a too-rich thing. Trust me.

(See how this recipe fits into a lazy, Sunday, spaghetti dinner party menu!)

weekend class: roasted beet and blood orange salad

weekend class = learning a thing or two about cooking and dining well. techniques, ingredients, recipes projects that definitely need to be tackled on the weekend. the result? weekend-class fare, of course.

There is a place for salads in winter. A particular kind of salad, and one that you are not likely to want or have in the summer. This type of salad in question is confident and outspoken.

It is sometimes late-Friday-night surly, all tangy and a touch bitter, and sometimes it is Sunday-dinner filling, with all kinds of carbs and proteins landing with a thud in your bowl. And when the salad involves roasting ingredients, you almost always restrict it's invitation to winter, don't you? This recipe I'm sharing is not my creation but one I was compelled to make this winter, and one I reserved for weekend cooking because while easy to make, there are several components. A couple of recipes within this recipe. The resulting salad is definitely as brazen as the winter salads I described. Powerful. Violent even--the dressing at least. 

Well look at it. That is violent pink if I ever saw it and wait until you taste it. It's not for the timid and in my opinion, it can't really share the table with anything other than a docile piece of bread. My appreciation of the sharp-as-a-scolding dressing was aqcuired over many bites. I teetered on not liking it, but the enthusiastic acceptance and praise by everyone else at the table (a diverse group, too) helped me see its finer points. It saved the salad from being that fine but all too common roasted beet and nut salad you still see on all too many menus. And though I'm not one of those people that thinks every star ingredient needs a foil, this vinaigrette which gets it's kick from raw shallots is a nice partner for those beets, if--and this is what I will do differently next time--you dress the salad as you go. The amount on the beets alone, and maybe a splash off a fork thrown from a distance, is all I'd need on my greens on a normal day. If you're feeling like you can go head to head with a stronger salad, get as surly as you want, I'll get right out of your way.

This salad is from that great cookbook that I was gifted recently, and the recipe is from that awesome restaurant in Brooklyn I raved about--the one where I had that killer other salad that spawned this recipe. I think it's worth checking making while you still feel like roasting vegetables. Oh--and do not waste that garlic that the recipe has you roast for the sole purpose of infusing the beets. Much less violent than anything above, you need to spread those cloves on hot, buttered baguette and sprinkle with sea salt and the roasted rosemary too for the garlic bread of your fantasies.

sauteed brussels sprouts with fried shallots and almonds

There is the camp that claims to have loved Brussels sprouts since childhood (kids far more mature than I was) and the camp that was converted when we learned how amazing they are when roasted or fried until caramelized. Then there's the camp that still hates them anyway. But I do sort of wonder if even they (you?) would like them caramelized, with some of their bright green leaves just wilted to and scattered about to for flirting purposes, and toasted almond flecks plus shallots fried in butter would change a mind or two. If anyone from that camp is willing to give these a try, please report back. Everyone from the first and second camp, gather 'round these with your biggest spoon.

cashew nut curry

If you've eaten cooked nuts, you may be excited about the idea of a cashew nut curry--you may have had one before! If you've never eaten nuts that have been stewed down, you may be furrowing your brown as your eyes grow wide and you reach, absent-mindedly, for another carefully roasted, crunchy almond right now. Having grown up eating this curry, I didn't have time to think about whether stewed nuts was kinda weird. If you are on the fence, let me assure you that you want to try this right now.

These nuts become mealy in the best way possible, retaining some body but mostly adding just-enough-but-not-too-much contrast in texture when scooped up with a spoonful of rice. And a ton of flavour too--this is a distinct but subtle curry, it's rich and perfect with biryani or roti, or bread, actually. And no, I've never tried these with other nuts (cashews are considered queen in my family) but if you are so inclined, please, please report back.

sri lankan stuffed banana chilies with onion & almonds

I finally know how to make something that I used to have to wait for a special occasion to request--my aunt's stuffed banana peppers. Sadly, I think learning how might have been a mistake. Why did it only occur to me now that part of the allure of eating this was knowing that my aunt was making this especially for me, that I'd walk into her apartment and the aroma and spice in the air would greet me just in advance of her, and that the love and experience she brough to this can't be accounted for in a recipe? I find myself doing this a lot. Investigating too closely, pulling back even sacred veils, like magic and memory. Le sigh. At least you don't have to worry about messing up a good thing. You've never had my aunt's stuffed banana peppers, so if you try this recipe, you have nothing to loose and only seriously great things to gain.

The flavour that the chilies bring, and the fact that this is a white curry, might make it different than one you've tried before. White curries are wonderful and this one is completely satisfying. If you like heat, this dish has got that--but if you don't, you can substitute a mild pepper for the banana chilies. The flesh of the chilies is soft but the filling has bite. The onions are sweet and the sauce is fragrant and savoury. I find that sometimes the thing you're stuffing takes a back seat to the stuffing itself, but not here. You'll enjoy the sauce, filling and chilies in equal measure, and though you could serve this with other curries or sides, you might want it only on a bed of hot rice. I prefer to eat it that way, to let me experience it without distraction and to tame a little of the intense heat that at least one of the chilies (I'll consume serveral a sitting) will ineveitably bring.

JK's house-made "nuttella"

I'm never the person that orders pancakes or french toast at brunch. I usually steal a bite from my brunch partner and that's as much syrupy, sweetness as I need. But thank goodness my friends decided we needed to share Jamie Kennedy's french toast with homemade nutella for "dessert". Of course the bread was downright fluffy, slightly crisp at the edges and the syrup and cream were just the right amount of sweet. But it was that hazelnut spread that blew.my.mind. It was as deep and rich as coffee--it had me wondering if there was coffee in it, actually. It was only semi-smooth, with the crunch of real ground nuts there to remind you that it was made in house. And it is a must-have if you ever visit Toronto's Gilead for brunch. And that--a sweet brunch item recommendation from me--is something rare.

grilled halloumi with grape-walnut relish

The whole summer went by and I didn't grill any halloumi! Quite remarkable since some summer's I do nothing but. We bought two bricks of the stuff to take to a barbeque a few weeks ago, that we ultimately couldn't attend, and the shrink-wrapped bricks have been sitting around in my fridge ever since. (Luckily, it's not a fresh cheese and in North America, its sold packed in brine and sealed air-tight so it lasts a long time if refrigerated and unopened.)

Halloumi gets ooey and runny when heated, while still holding its shape and without separating like some cheeses would. It's not like I need a recipe for it when it's perfection simply brushed with oil and heated in a pan. (Aaaand, as it turns out, I already have several recipes and ideas for halloumi to begin with.) But I've never paired it with something as strong as rosemary or as sweet as grilled grapes, so I found this recipe intriguing. It's a great balance of flavours and salty halloumi still gets to be the star, with walnuts and grilled bread adding texture and making it a meal. It's something that's ideal for summer when you're likely standing over a barbeque weekly, but I found it works perfectly well using a grill pan on your stovetop too.

Grilled Halloumi with Rosemary-Grape-Walnut Relish and Garlic Bread

(Via Fine Cooking)

YS Note: *While this recipe instructs you to use an outdoor grill, you can easily make this on the stove using a seasoned or well-oiled grill pan or even a non-stick skillet. You can take all kinds of other liberties with this recipe too, like I did, opting for thyme over rosemary and using baguette slices.

1 medium red onion, cut into 3 to 4 thick slices 
2 Tbs. plus 4 tsp. extra-virgin olive oil 
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 
12 oz. halloumi cheese, cut into 3/8-inch-thick slabs (or aged provolone, cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices) 
2 large cloves garlic, minced 
1 small loaf ciabatta (about 8 oz.),cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices 
1/2 cup walnuts 
1 tsp. minced fresh rosemary 
1 large bunch seedless black or red grapes (about 1-1/4 lb.) 
2 to 3 tsp. balsamic vinegar 

Prepare a high gas or charcoal grill fire.*

Drizzle the onion slices with 2 tsp. of the oil and lightly season them with salt and pepper. Pat the cheese dry and drizzle with 2 tsp. of the oil. In a small bowl, mix the remaining 2 Tbs. of oil, the garlic, and a pinch each of salt and pepper; brush the mixture evenly over one side of the bread slices.

Meanwhile, toast the walnuts in a small skillet over medium heat, stirring frequently, until golden-brown, 4 to 5 minutes. Coarsely chop the walnuts while still hot and transfer them to a medium bowl. Mix in the rosemary.

Put the onion slices and bunch of grapes on the grill grate. Cover and grill, turning once, until the grapes are bursting and the onions are grill marked, about 10 minutes. Transfer the grapes to the bowl with the walnuts, and the onions to a cutting board. Use tongs to simultaneously pull the grapes from their stems and crush them, dropping them into the bowl. Chop the grilled onions and add them to the bowl. Season to taste with the vinegar, salt, and pepper.

Clean and oil the grill grate. Put the bread and cheese on the grate and grill uncovered, turning once, until marked on both sides, 4 to 5 minutes (about 1 minute if using provolone).

Divide the cheese, bread, and relish among 4 plates and serve immediately.

Serves 4 as an appetizer or 2 as a light dinner

love cake

My appreciation for the love cake you see in this picture is three-fold:

1. I made it with my aunt, and we followed my grandmother's hand-written recipe. I'm not letting that cloud my feelings about the end result itself, but those circumstances generated good feelings in me toward the cake, naturally. Just this cake above, not love cake overall.
2. I finally understand why love cake tastes like it does because I made it, instead of having had a small, wrapped square offered to me at a wedding or other celebration. Now those complex flavours and textures make sense--the chewy parts are no strange mystery and the sugar and spice combination doesn't catch me off guard at all. Plus something about making something yourself makes it taste better, doesn't it? I fear that may have had some influence on how I experienced the cake when it was done, versus other times, but it's more than that because finally...
3. ...I'm just getting old. The nuances in this cake were lost on me and in fact, I hated love cake, if you can stand the irony, until now. And now...well, now I sort of love it. Which I should be happy about, except, see the part about getting old. It's the kind of cake you may need a refined palette for. 

Because the recipe includes pumpkin preserves, you see, and I used to loathe any dried or otherwise preserved fruit. I loathed that chewy texture and saw it less as a contrast to the other ingredients in a dish and more as an obstacle to enjoying them. Like raisins--gross! I wouldn't touch rice pudding and was sad when someone added them to a stunning biryani. I couldn't deal with a stray dried cranberry in granola and I still can't go near fruit cake. Now I want raisins in my couscous and I throughly enjoyed this love cake, pumpkin preserves and all. Who am I? And how disgusted would the old me be with this love cake-loving traitor? These are my internal dilemmas. You can't help me.

Hopefully you are more mature than me, regardless of your age, and you can appreciate the loveliness that is love cake today. It's simply delicious, rich with cashew nut meal and slightly crumbly. Those pumpkin preserves, shown below, can be found in South Asian grocery stores and are found in the traditional love cake recipes. You will find youself snacking on this highly sugary preserve while you mince it, and if you have any sharp cheese around, you might want to have that handy too. I'm skipping replacing jellies with slivers of pumpkin preserve on my next cheese board--I'm mature/old enough to enjoy them that much. I think they would be a fine thing to nibble on with a glass of ice wine or port too. But back to the cake--if you can't find pumpkin preserves, another aunt of mine suggested using minced pieces of pineapple which I think is an inspired idea.

Love cake is served at Sri Lankan weddings, birthdays and some other celebrations. To present it at weddings, it's usually cut into very small squares, wrapped in cellophane and packaged individually in tiny white boxes for guests to take home with them. Because it's so sweet, you only need a tiny piece, not the wedge I've carved out here, but don't let me stop you. Cream, unsweetened and whipped, provides a neutral, silky balance, and this is just the cake you want to have with strong black tea (Ceylon tea, of course).

Oh and a word about the recipe. It was interesting trying to decipher my grandmother's recipe, which called for rulan and which my aunt explains as essentially Cream of Wheat--which I discovered is semolina or farina to us in North America. The original recipe refers to a "wine glass full" of "bee's honey" (so cute!) and calls for 200 cashew nuts, which were counted and, I was surprised to find, weighed exactly the 3/4 pounds of cashews that a third aunt in Sri Lanka said they would in her handwritten adjustments of my grandmother's recipe. And now the aunt/second mother/culinary genius that I gush about on this site from time to time and I have re-tested and modified the recipe to bring it to you. Which is to say, a lot of love has gone into it over the years. I really hope you enjoy it.

union square café's bar nuts (and lessons in shutting up)

The past weekend was packed with family events, most in the suburbs, so I spent last weekend at my parent's house. I came home from my cousin's party at close to 11pm. I didn't expect to find my parents asleep, but I didn't expect my mother to be roasting a fresh batch of nuts: very fresh cashews, Brazil nuts, pecans, almonds, hazelnuts, pepitas and walnuts. I didn't know why she was bothering, and quite frankly, I didn't feel like snacking on nuts that late at night, still full from a party. I should just learn to shut up and get out of her way already. She went ahead and made the recipe for Union Square Café's bar nuts that she'd printed off earlier, and told me I had to eat some right then because they were best enjoyed warm from the oven. Oh.My.God. She was right. These are the best nuts ever and all the hype they receive (you would have come across rave reviews if you looked up the recipe too) is fully deserved.

Make them, and then, I warn you, ration out your immediate portion and hide the rest or you will eat a week's worth of fat in 20 minutes. Which is what I did, which is exactly why I wished she hadn't made them in the middle of the night. I know. Shut up. You're right.

 

reset: breakfast with nut butter, matcha and hemp oil

Regardless of the fact that it's a pretty arbitrary point in time, many of us choose New Year's Day to draw a virtual line in the sand. We choose this as a time to improve ourselves, including our health and diet. It doesn't hurt that many of us are coming off the longest eating and drinking bender of the year, also known as "the holidays." I have consumed more cheese than I care to think about, eaten every salty and fried thing in site (that's a year-long tradition I can't escape), and replaced water with wine. I don't want to cleanse, I need to. I feel, in a word, gross.

But that was last year! Look at me now. So healthy. I am 6 hours into the new me and nothing can stop me now.

I'm starting with my go-to breakfast, which includes much more fat than you might expect. I was very skeptical when a friend introduced me to hemp oil, with 14 grams of fat per tablespoon. You can read all about the protein, mineral and, best of all, omega 3 fatty-acids and perfect LA-LNA ratio for yourself. I did. I'm certainly not recommending this or any other supplement to you, I mean, we hardly know each other, how could I? The information was enough for me to include it in my diet, chugged and chased with a gulp of smoothie. Which I then follow with just a little pumpkin seed butter on dense, healthy, whole grain toast. More fat, but more importantly something that is very filling and impressively high in iron. Still, you know I wouldn't consume these if I saw all that fat turning into, well, fat on me, but I find I notice the opposite happens, if you can believe it. Which you will also read about if you look into it. 

Lastly, my caffeine fix, and it's a healthy one at that. Matcha green tea remains the thing that kick starts me best in the morning, I actually feel more mentally alert (that phrase really just means "smarter!") when I drink it versus coffee, and yet it doesn't hold me hostage. If I skip it, I may be a touch sleepier but I don't seem to experience any caffeine withdrawal and I love that about it. I hate the headaches that used to come from missing the morning coffee I was hooked on, and matcha was the only thing that let me ease off the need for even a morning green tea, once I weaned myself down to that vice once a day. Plus it requires using a pretty whisk. 

If you're hitting "reset" with me too, I have to tell you that while my version will include so little wine in the next month that I want to stare out the window at the grey sky and wonder "what is it all for...", I'm not being totally strict about this cleanse. I'm making exceptions to bring you a cheese soufflé recipe this weekend, because I would never sit on something as glorious as that and not share it with you ASAP. Never. So cleanse 2011, includes a light dusting of cheese. Here we go!