Omnomicon

Let’s get all healthy on your ass.

I’m not really good at veggie-centric recipes, mostly because I think they’re very good all by themselves simply steamed or roasted or even fresh. There are a few standbys for combining veggies—salads, soups, mixing them with oil and tossing with pasta—but I never come up with anything particularly noteworthy, and so here I am, writing a blog with an audience no doubt suffering from a collective vitamin deficiency. Sorry about that.

I’ll make it up to you by sharing a method for oven-roasting veggies that I found in my new favourite reference book Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini. It’s one of the few reference books that hold up against Wikipedia and Internet-at-large, and even though it cost more than a Physics textbook, I highly recommend it.

So here’s what I learned. Grab some veggies you have lying around, perhaps the hardier vegetables from your CSA share that survived the last 6 days of neglect. Perhaps also some mushrooms because it makes a nice little faux-sauce.

Clean a leek.

How to do this: slice lengthwise about an inch from the base, then rinse all the dirt out in a tub o’water by separating the leaves and rubbing out any dirt under there. Leeks trap dirt very easily, so rinsing is pivotal in preventing that gritty bite of dirt that momentarily makes you wonder if you broke a tooth. If you’ve ever broken a tooth before, otherwise it’s just gross.

The green parts are usually reserved for soups, but I usually throw them in too.

Next, mince some mushrooms. Toss with thyme, salt and a smiiiidge of sugar.

Now we build the packet. Drop a teaspoon of oil on about a foot of foil, then spread to coat.

And layer the veggies.

I had some sad-looking basil leaves that were about to kick off, so I put a bunch in here to lend some complexity of flavour. Of course, you can mince whatever fresh spices you have to get rid of in with the mushroom, but I was going for subtlety for once.

Fold over and pinch like a turnover.

. . . and 20 minutes later, you have veggies with dinner. I did this in the oven at 400^o, but it would work just fine on the grill if you have the spare real estate beside your steak tips.

Serve with rice, meat, or another packet of veggies.

And that’s how Omnomicon is updated after way too much time off.

Oven-Steamed Veggies
as discussed in Elizabeth Schneider’s masterpiece, Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini.

This would work for pretty much any combination of veggies you love, but the mushrooms replace a traditional sauce and lend a level of satisfaction you might miss.

2 small leeks (or more), washed & cut into 1″ slices (about
6 small carrots, peeled & cut into 1″ slices (about 1/2 a lb)
4 oz mushrooms, minced finely
3 tsp olive oil (or other oil of you choice)
a sprig of fresh herbs you like
1/2 tsp thyme
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/8 tsp pepper

Preheat oven to 400^o. Toss mushrooms with thyme, sugar, salt & pepper. Add in 1 tsp olive oil.

Cut two 12″ lengths of aluminum foil and coat half of each with 1 tsp olive oil. On each, layer half each of leeks, carrots, mushroom mixture and top with a sprig of your favourite herb on the oiled half. Fold over and pinch around to close, as though sealing a turnover. Place on a cookie sheet and bake for 20 minutes.

nutrition summary (1 serving, 1/2 of recipe): 145 calories, 7g fat, 4.5g fiber; about 3 weight watchers points

Since last night’s post dealt with a single stalk of celery, as many recipes do, I thought I’d share my celery preservation technique, because even though you might not use that celery in the next two weeks, you’ll try to hold onto it just in case.

The best container I’ve found for keeping celery like this (and you know, it will last a solid two weeks this way too) is in either a pitcher or a vase. This is usually done to revive rubbery celery, but since I’m not likely to get to mine in the next few days anyway, I tend to go directly to the pitcher technique.

Make sure you have your celery toward the front of the fridge too. Some older model fridges (and some newer ones too) get extra-cold toward the back and will freeze your celery, and there ain’t no revivin that stuff back from that!

. . . that’s all I got.

So it would appear that the rest of the country has easy access to local produce for more than 3 months of the year. Must be nice, assholes.

Okay, I lied, nobody’s an asshole, I’m just super jealous. I was raised in the classic suburban white girl tradition of New Hampshire. And to us, the concept of vegetable seasonality was . . . simplistic. We had corn on the cob once a year, my mom made zucchini breads in August (and froze about a dozen), we went apple picking in September and in October we’d choose a pumpkin to carve as a family. The rest of the year we enjoyed carrots, potatoes, apples, oranges and frozen vegetables. My  mom and dad will no doubt read this and lay the guilt on how I make them sound like SUCH bad parents who never fed their kids ANY vegetables, which is not the case, the point here is that seasonality just never stuck with me.

So last year it occurred to me that maybe corn doesn’t get harvested on a single day of the year, and also, what is that day anyway, and hey, plants *do* grow in Massachusetts, so logic would dictate that some of them are edible, right? Perhaps this . . . what do you call it . . . agriculture? thing?? had made its way from the Midwest to our humble corner of the country? This must make me sound horrifically stupid, but really, I’d never seen a well-stocked farmer’s market (they have terrible hours around here, like middle-of-the-afternoon-on-a-Wednesday hours), and the most local veggies I’d seen were singly sold on the side of the road. After much searching, I found Berberian’s Farm in Northborough (no site, no link) and caught up with everyone else that the freshest food is local and that fresh really does make a difference.

This summer I’d like to document an answer to the question that popped up for me only last year: so what’s in season?

On May 13th, it was this junk:

(I do use the term “junk” loosely) We’re looking at radishes, arugula, asparagus, rhubarb and mint.

Needless to say, I did try to think of some clever recipe using only these ingredients, but you know, they really just don’t go together very well, and what’s more, the way I eat them isn’t very interesting. For example, I steamed the radish.

And while its Barbie appeal was heightened significantly, it didn’t taste like much of anything other than maybe overboiled summer squash, so I salted and peppered and ate it on the side with this.

And you can see how I couldn’t in good faith make an entire blog post about this because it’s like cheating . . . wait, what’s that, Bitten Word? Martha had a recipe for poached eggs on asparagus? Wow, either I’m next in line to wear that lady’s heavy crown, or she’s out of actual recipes, because “place poached egg upon steamed asparagus” is not exactly what I would describe as a “recipe” so much as “an idea I came up with on the fly and I’m sure I’m not the first.”

Still, it was really good. Recipe: toss your ‘spargus with 1 tsp olive oil, roast at 500^o for 5 minutes while you fry an egg, then salt & pepper & sprinkle with lemon juice if desired and place the egg on top. The end.

Alright, so I did manage to get these big ole honkin rhubarbs though, and I did manage to come up with a recipe for them, and it’s not even strawberry-related! I know, I’m so original, right? First though, check out how huge they were!

The length of my arm, they were! This was the only way I could think to fit them in my lens, as it does not zoom and I’m sick of that overdone depth-of-field bullshit. Anyway, then I chopped ’em up.

Add a healthy dose of sugar because these things are as sour as lemons.

Then stew them for a few moments, make some oatmeal, and enjoy as follows. This makes an excellent breakfast or dessert, complete with vegetable, protein, and fiber. There’s no fat unless you want to add some, it’s easy to make vegan with some yogurt substitution action, and even if you don’t give a shit about any of that diet stuff, you will still like it. The rhubarb tastes just like pink lemonade, there’s just enough oatmeal to make it feel like a real dessert and the yogurt offers a neutral contrast in flavour and texture. I have to say, it far exceeded my vision!

 

 

Healthy Rhubarb-Parfait-Cobbler-Type-Thing
This dessert (or breakfast) has a rosy blush that can aid a young lady in her pursuit to maintain her girlish figure. In other words, it looks nice and ain’t bad for ya!

2.5 c (about 1/2 lb or 4-5 feet) rhubarb stalks
1/2 c sugar
1/2 c dry oatmeal
3/4 c water
1 c yogurt (fat-free, Greek, full-fat, your pick!)
1/2 tsp sugar (in addition to the sugar above)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Rinse the rhubarb, then chop into 1/2″ chunks. Toss with 1/2 c sugar. This is easiest to do in the saucepan you’ll be cooking in—lid it then swirl it around til the chunks are coated. Heat over medium-low heat, stirring every minute or so. You’ll notice that even though you started with no extra water in the pot, suddenly all the rhubarb surrenders its water and you’ll have a kind of stew. Whenever you stir, give one of the chunks a fork to see if it’s tender; as soon as that happens, turn off the heat. It should happen within ten minute or so (if not, try medium heat for a little while, but keep an eye out for burnt bottoms!).

While that’s cooking, prepare the oatmeal. I microwaved mine because um, the stove was kind of already taken. 1/2 c oatmeal to 3/4 water. The oatmeal package will say otherwise; tell it to take a hike. Microwave 2.5 minutes.

Also, mix the yogurt with the vanilla and remaining sugar.

To assemble, we’re really just dividing everything into rough fours: 1/4 c rhubarb, top with a generous tablespoon of the oatmeal, then finish off with 1/4 c yogurt.

 

 

nutrition summary (for 1 serving of 4): 185 calories, 1g fat, 2g fiber; about 3 weight watchers points

A few months back I thought it would be cool to experiment with sprouting mung beans and share the process. It’s a pretty simple one: soak beans for about 12 hours, drain, then keep in a jar in the dark for a few days, rinsing every 12 hours or so, until—tada!—bean sprouts.

This method is foolproof only if you possess an innate ability to plan ahead and are able to couple that with a daily attention to detail.

Unfortunately, I possess neither. I am, however, completely in love with this specific colour.

So I tried to sprout these TWICE, and each time made it to the point where things were looking promising.

And then both times, I forgot about the damn things in my cupboard until they were oversprouted and bitter and not very edible.

And even though they weren’t edible, they were so pretty.

Good news, though! Steph of ::steph chows:: did a nice little writeup of her far more successful experience with mung beans, which echoed much of the research I had done in sprouting my own.

Here’s hoping I’m a better farmer in my CSA’s fields this summer, eh?

So if you’re not the comment-reading type, you may have missed this awesome comment from Jasmine, who, rather than pontificating from the opposite side of the globe about how to sprout mung beans, actually hails from that side of the globe and shared some excellent knowledge:

Hi! Here in asia we call these mung beans “green beans”, and use them to make sweetened, ‘cooling’ soups to ward off the heat of summer. Job’s tears (we call them “barley”) and mung beans, together with sugar and some fragrant pandan leaves, put into a pot and on a slow boil will make this humble beverage.

We also sprout mung beans until they are about 2 inches long — they are called “beanstalks” and added into clear soups or sauteed (you may have seen them in “chow mein” or fried noodles). Although you can buy these from your local Chinese grocer’s, I imagine. We sprout them by getting cotton wool (the kind you use for your face will do), soaking it in water and putting those little beans in them, near the sun. Water daily and they’ll grow!

Addendum
Oh, sorry to mention — I’m from Singapore … and here are some local dishes where mung bean sprouts are used!

http://www.noobcook.com/2008/03/11/bean-sprouts-with-salted-fish/

I love reading Omnomicon because I really see what people on the other side of the world is eating! (sorry if all that I’ve said is super ass-vicey)

Jasmine, your comments are not only welcome, but TOTALLY appreciated! And it goes without saying that Omnomicon loves having you for a reader, much of my aim is to gather all kinds of different perspectives on the food I present!

I have an interest in food cultures outside the US (and even outside my little corner of the country), but unfortunately it’s difficult for me to know that the info I am able to gather is even remotely accurate. Next time I’m whipping up a batch of Pho, I’m totally going to try Jasmine’s suggestion. Thanks again, you’re a doll!

Thanks to everyone who sent me Google’s cached version of my post . . . unfortunately that was what I had started with two hours prior, sans recipe, not deleted altogether, but without all the hard work of the night. I’ve been learning to click save more frequently for ten years now and, apparently, will never learn. So anyway, here’s my revised all-the-better rendition of Coffee Nut Chicken.

Remember that time I posted that thing about how to score herbs & spices on the cheap? And then when I said I had a good recipe to use them all? This is that recipe, guys! Despite the word “chicken” in the title, this is easily modified to vegetarian or vegan tastes. Easily.

The original recipe comes from Chef Paul Prudhomme’s out-of-print cookbook classic Fiery Foods That I Love, and the recipe is also available on Chef Paul’s website. I changed a few things to obviate the need for Chef Paul’s magical seasonings blends because any food with “magic” in the title is suspect to me.

Not sure if this has come up yet, but Dano is my boyfriend. I hate the phrase “my boyfriend,” because every time I use it I feel like staking out some man-meat territory. To me, it sounds like “mah buh-FRAAAND.” So now that we’re real close friends, you’ll just have to keep track of his name like all my other pals. Internet: Dano. Dano: Internet.

Anyway, I bring this up because Coffee Nut Chicken was the very first meal he ever made for me! *Awwww!* Turns out Dano can cook too, when I let him!

There are a metric shit-ton of ingredients in this recipe, so a little mis en place might be a good idea.

The puree is . . . um . . . not that pretty. But remember how there were all those delicious toasted nuts and seeds in there when someone inevitably describes it in less-than-appetizing terms.

As promised, we begin with a herbs and spices do come into play. Specifically, an 8-spice blend if you don’t count salt. There are so many ingredients involved that this recipe presents some problems with some easy solutions. On the one hand you probably are missing at least *one* of the ingredients on the list. On the other, because there are so many flavours in play, your improvised substitution won’t ruin dinner.

It doesn’t matter what kind of chicken you use. Bone-in, whole chicken, skinned, some chicken thighs, breasts . . . you know, whatever. The original calls for a whole chicken, but I tend toward chicken thighs, so that’s what’s pictured here.

Onions, naturally.

Simma!

And then serve. Please remember all the hard work that went into this dish, because without that knowledge, this is probably the last thing you’d think you’d want to put in your mouth. Remember, it’s nutty and warm and savoury with an interesting heat that comes on just as you think you’re in the clear with spiciness. And it’s positively divine on egg noodles.

Vegetarian? Oh that’s cool, it’s easy to fix. Make the sauce with a veggie stock, and instead of chicken, simmer some whole portobello mushrooms, or other sliced mushrooms in the sauce (no need to sear!). Serve over egg noodles, or for vegan types, rice. I had egg noodles on hand, so unfortunately that’s the picture you get, but I hear vegans have excellent imaginations.

Coffee Nut Chicken
modified from a recipe by Paul Prudhomme

A very important note:
Please do not try to substitute ground coffee for instant, which is not at all the same thing. Just put aside your foodie-snobbery, suck it up, and accept that sometimes freeze-dried is what’s called for. Dano made this mistake exactly once. We had pizza that night. Other than that, substitutions work well here.

Seasoning
  2 tbsp lightly packed brown sugar
  2 tsp dried ancho chili powder
  2 tsp chipotle chili powder
  (if you have no interest in fancy chili powders, substitute 1 tbsp + 1 tsp total chili powders for the
  ancho and chipotle)
  2 tsp salt
  1.5 tsp cumin
  1.5 tsp garlic powder
  1.5 tsp onion powder
  1.5 tsp oregano
  1 tsp basil
  1/2 tsp ground cloves

The Coffee and Nuts (and what they are pureed with)
  1/2 c sunflower seeds
  2 c chopped pecans
  2 tbsp poppy seeds
  2 tbsp sesame seeds
  1 cup chicken stock or broth
  2 tbsp lightly packed brown sugar
  3 tbsp instant coffee
  1 tsp ground chicory (hard to find at regular grocery stores and therefore optional)

Other stuff
  6 chicken thighs (or 3 chicken breasts halved, we’re shooting for about 1.5 lbs of meat)
  2 tbsp canola, sunflower or other high-heat oil (olive oil will burn)
  1 onion, chopped
  1 cup chicken stock or broth
  8 oz egg noodles

Mix the seasoning spices by giving them a little pinchy-pinch. Rub about 2 tbsp of the seasoning into chicken. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet to medium. Toast the sunflower seeds then the chopped pecans 5-6 minutes each, shaking the pan as they toast. Toast the poppy and sesame seeds together for 2 minutes in the same manner.

Puree the sunflower seeds, pecans, poppy and sesame seeds with 1 c chicken stock, 2 tbsp brown sugar, instant coffee and chicory in a food processor about 1 minute.

Heat the oil in the nut-skillet on high until it moves easily. Sear each side of the chicken 2 minutes, then set aside; lower heat to medium. Add 1 tbsp of the spice mixture to the pan with the chopped onion and sautee 5 minutes or until cooked. Stir in 1 cup chicken stock or broth, scraping the bottom of the pan to release the brown bits. Bring to a boil, add chicken, nut puree and spice mix, then reduce to low and simmer for another 25 minutes, or until chicken reaches an internal temperature of 160^o. If you want to make the chicken cook more quickly (but with the risk of having an extra-liquidy meal), cover and cook til the internal temperature is reached.

Now’s a good time to boil water and cook the egg noodles.

By request: finally, a vegetarian option!
I mentioned this earlier, but it bears repeating. Word-for-word, in fact, just to conserve my precious creativity: Make the sauce with a veggie stock, and instead of chicken, simmer 6 whole portobello mushrooms, or other 24 oz sliced mushrooms in the sauce (no need to sear!). Serve over egg noodles, or for vegan types, rice.

Nutrition Summary (one of six servings, using 1.5 lb chicken breast, No Yolks egg noodles): 555 calories, 6g fiber, 22g fat (but lots of the good kind, hehe); 12 weight watchers points

(using 6 portobello caps, No Yolks egg noodles): 475 calories, 8g fiber, 21g fat; 10 ww points

I just checked to make sure, and my posting schedule does not promise anything impressive on Sunday nights (*phew!*). It has been awfully busy in Casa Meadowlark in the last few days, and not much time to photograph all the very pretty foods created within . . . I cannot think of anything more rude than whipping out a camera at your own dinner party and taking pictures of everything. Even with extremely understanding and close friends present, it’s a big nono.

So even though all kinds of lovely foods abounded, all I really shot of Saturday night’s festivities was a bean dip I made on the fly. I had made Recipe Girl’s Chickpea and Spinach Salad with Cumin Dressing as a side, and for an appetizer-like veggie platter had in mind Creamy White Bean Dip from Bon Appétit (via Epicurious), but if you look you’ll notice that they share the majority of the same ingredients: lemon juice, lemon zest, olive oil, garlic, cumin, mint . . . all nice and thematic and essentially hummus, but these two dishes would have been a little too matchy-matchy.

Not to be put out, and still needing a fresh Spring-like veggie dip, I improvised.

And it went over well.

Red and White Veggie Dip
comfortably serves 6 as an appetizer

1 can of cannellini beans
1/2 to 1 whole roasted red pepper (I had some jarred ones on hand, but you can roast your own if so inclined)
2 small cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp sesame oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp curry
1/2 tsp salt
Sesame seeds to garnish (optional, naturally)

Using a food processor, blend. Garnish with sesame seeds. In addition or as an alternative, consider garnishing with finely diced fresh red pepper (as in not roasted) in addition or as an alternative to the sesame seeds. Serve as follows.

Then suddenly remember that you have some baby carrots in the fridge that might still be good. Oh, and you bought those grape tomatoes too because remember how they were on sale?

nutrition summary (1 serving of 6): 115 calories, 5g fat, 4g fiber; 2 Weight Watchers Points

I’m back! Did you miss me? I was all sickly and working a bunch all last week, and therefore far too lazy to even clean my house, let alone post blogs. But no worries, I have a treat.

Who doesn’t love chai tea? Hint: it is not me who does not love chai tea. I had never enjoyed this delicacy until I had a meal card in college with a chai tea machine in the food court. And it was love.

Over the summer this supply dried up, so I went to Campus Convenience (aka Campco) and inquired as to whether one might find chai tea somewhere in the store. The new owner, who was incidentally Indian, directed me to a shelf with some black tea on it. “No no, like . . . chai . . . it’s got milk and honey in it?”

“But, this is chai”

“Um, well, what I’m looking for comes in a carton?”

“Chai is an Indian word that means ‘tea.'”

“OH.”

And thus ended one of many cultural lessons that naturally befall a white middle-class suburban girl from New Hampshire sooner or later.

And look! Just five years later, here I am, so culturally learned that I not only eat Pho on a regular basis, but am making my own chai tea. There are dozens of recipes out there, so I kind of mashed them all up to create an optimal mix of things. Fortunately, my experiments in Pho leave me with pretty much all the ingredients on hand!

For one, cardamom pods.

Did you know the best way to get cardamom flavouring is to smash open the pods? It’s true! I read it on the Internet. I guess outside of the pods, the seeds don’t retain their flavour very well.

I assembled the other spices, shying not away from traditionally savoury spices such as fennel and black peppercorns.

Float your tea bags atop some milk. Many folks like the creaminess of whole milk. I used 1% because the cooking of it thickens it quite a bit, and more importantly, I’m totally on a diet.

Then you stir continuously while it comes to a boil. Then you simmer. And then you simmer some more. In fact, the longer you simmer, the spicier it becomes. Perhaps less cardamom is better if you’re planning on spicing it to the max.

Strain. I doubly strained this because cheesecloth is a pain in the ass sometimes and also, this strainer is not nearly stringent enough to get those itty bitty tea leaves that burst out of those cheap tea bags.

After some chilling, I iced that business and enjoyed it with some fine biscuits I found at the Indian store while in search of bulk black peppercorns.

And that’s that! I made a half gallon of tea for sharing, but the recipe makes a quart.

Chai Tea

2 tsp fresh ginger, smashed via mortar and pestle or otherwise minced
4 bags of black tea
2 cinnamon sticks
1 tsp fennel seeds
4 whole cloves
8 black peppercorns
4 cardamom seeds
1/4 cup honey
1 quart of milk (your choice of fat content–that’s 4 cups)

Pour milk, spices and honey into a saucepan, float the tea bags on top, and let come to a boil while stirring continuously. Reduce to a simmer (continue to stir) and let simmer for 10-15 minutes. Simmer for longer for a stronger flavour. Turn off heat, let sit a few minutes. The milk will get a skin on top of it; skim and discard. Strain through a fine mesh strainer lined with cheesecloth if you have it. Serve hot, or chill and serve with ice. And delicious sunshine biscuits

As much as I’ve tried to start eating more in season this year, there are always exceptions to the rule. Perhaps it was the density of the pierogi lasagna sitting in my tummy three days later, but something, at any rate, made me crave a light treat with no guilt involved.

Naturally, fruit salad was the answer. Of course, fruit salad is just whatever fruit you want in there, but I have special preferences. For one thing, I hate cantaloupe, it’s filler and that’s a fact. On the other hand, honeydew melon is pretty yummy and serves the same purpose. Citrus fruits don’t fare well, blueberries are too small (and expensive 90% of the year), grapes dominate your palate when they explode in your mouth, and apples are too crunchy.

So what fruits are appropriate? I’M GLAD YOU ASKED, HERE LET ME SHOW YOU.

Since the honeydew is filler, we’ll start there. I totally love using an ice cream scoop on these, it’s so satisfying somehow.

Now slice up some kiwis. They have a totally cool aesthetic.

Now pair your green fruits.

And for the special ingredient? I throw some frozen raspberries in there. They’re awesome because when they melt they coat the honeydew in a tart envelope of juicy deliciousness, and they go a lot further than fresh raspberries, which fall apart anyway. Since I’m already making this out-of-season, I have no regrets doing this.

Strawberries are also show-stoppingly beautiful. *Rowr*

You may have been wondering what the lemon was doing kicking around up there in the first shot. All like “Oh hey guys, having a salad? Mind if I crash it? Yeah, I’ll just be right here if you wanna talk or something. Cool.” In addition to preventing that brown crud on apples from forming (hello oxidation!) it also keeps your salad a little bit longer, and since we’re going for something tart anyway, it certainly can’t hurt. But even if you opt for a sweeter blend of things, you won’t notice the juice in there, promise.

Isn’t that so pretty? Now fuck it all up with a good sound stir. I like to give the fruit some time to chill in the fridge to allow the raspberries to do their thing and the other fruit to do a little mingling (yes, you too, lemon). This has the unfortunate side effect of making my final shot way uglier than any of the previous. So save your inferior fruit salads for company, this is the one you can go home to, like an ugly wife.

As for the bananas, don’t mix them in with the other fruits. Just, don’t. They get gross and mushy and don’t store the same way as the other fruits. But right before you dig in, throw a few slices on there. It brings the whole thing together.

Tart Fruit Salad now with raspberries!

1 honeydew melon
4 large kiwi fruit
about 6 oz frozen raspberries
1 lb strawberries
juice of one lemon (2-3 tbsp)
4 bananas

Slice all fruit but the bananas, toss them in a large bowl with the frozen raspberries and lemon juice. Chill 1 hour. Before serving, give it another stir and add sliced bananas to the top.

Eat with the confidence you gain from knowing it won’t go to your hips.

You guys, you guys. Have you ever been to a music festival? In addition to beats, good company, crappy camping and hippies, they also feature food vendors. And this is how I discovered The Skinny Pancake, a Burlington VT original. I haven’t yet made a pilgrimage to their restaurant (Vermont is kind of a hike from Massachusetts), but they have some incredible crepes that you can recreate at home without tie-dye bedecked strangers eyeing your breakfast.

First, we have The Heartbreaker.

I think you can see where we’re going with this. My crepes are not like those served by the Skinny Pancake, but they still benefit from nutella, strawberries and bananas. And apples too . . .

. . . but we’re getting to that. Now mix up your favourite crepe batter.

And let it stand, covered with plastic wrap, for 30 mins before go time. On a side note, I fucking hate whisks, but crepes are the one food item they serve well instead of becoming a clumpy hard-to-clean nuisance. When the time is right, heat up 1/2 tsp of butter in your largest skillet, and pour enough batter to cover the bottom without the batter on top being runny.

Do a little swishy swishy with your pan, and pour back to the bowl whatever isn’t stuck to the pan. When your crepe starts to bubble and the bottom of it is browned, give it a flip. This will happen a minute or two after liftoff.

Now immediately, I reiterate, immediately get about half a tablespoon of Nutella on there. You want this to get melty, and the longer it’s on your crepe, the meltier it’ll get.

And then toss on your strawberries and banana. You don’t want a lot of these, and you’ll see why, looks like I used about 2 strawberries and one third of a banana.

Now give that side a minute or two to cook, then begin the folding process.

You want a tri-cornered hat looking thing reminiscent of colonial America. And this is the reason you want to go light on your fruits, it won’t fold up right if you aren’t conservative. Now flip that monster over for about thirty seconds to let the oozy coat the other side of the crepe.

Serve to your favourite breakfast guests.

We’re almost done! The Green Mountain crepe was a big hit festivalwise as well, so I did that one too.

Your story starts out the same, and, as with the Nutella, you wanna get your sharp cheddar slices on there immediately after flipping and for the same melty reasons.

Now the apples.

Do your foldy bit.

And you know the rest.

Do you put anything cool in your crepes? Do you have an excellent crepe recipe to share? Please do! I have a feeling these are going to be a Saturday morning tradition for some time to come, and will try anything that sounds reasonably delicious.

This is the next recipe in my Family Cookbook series. This one comes from my little sister Sarah, but is actually one of my all-time favourites. When I got my first apartment in college, I also got my very first cookbook from UNH Health Services, and what do you know, it’s now online. Get the entire thing here: Good Eats! Quick & Easy Food for Busy College Students.

I love this cookbook because it’s very health-conscious in addition to focusing on budget. I would recommend it to anyone who has never really cooked for themselves, and I myself use recipes from it regularly. I’d have to say it’s the only cookbook from which I’ve made most of the recipes.

This one in particular is just wonderful. I’m still amazed at how such a simple concoction can bring joy into my life over and over again without making me fat (and oh my god it has so much fiber in it). And it only takes about 20 minutes to make. It is also extremely amendable: you can add chicken, leave out the feta, leave out the pasta, throw in other veggies you have. But really, all you need is a can of tomatoes, a can of cannellini beans, garlic, 10 oz of fresh spinach and some pasta.

Sautee your garlic on low then throw in your canned stuff. The tomatoes ought not be drained, but the cannellini need to be rinsed.

And if you didn’t use the Italian seasoned tomatoes, generously empty your spice cabinet in there (basil, oregano, kosher salt, pepper). Even if you did use the Italian stuff, you’re going to want some salt in there.

While that’s simmering, you have plenty of time to break the stems off your spinach and rinse it. And unless you used baby spinach, you really want to break off those stems, you’ll thank yourself later on.

Now it’s been about ten minutes, and you want to throw your spinach in there.

Stir that up just until the spinach wilts. In fact, the less cooked the spinach is, the better this is going to taste, so leave it on low while you stir that in. It should only take a minute or so to be done.

You *were* cooking your pasta all the while, correct? I also include this shot as a measure of what 2 oz of penne (1 serving) looks like cooked. As a frame of reference, that bowl is exactly a cup. Needless to say, it will not be 2 oz once it’s cooked.

Now top with feta, if you’re doing that, and voila! A twenty-minute dinner that’s incredible in every way. I usually leave out the feta, but since B’Garah loves her cheese, I had to include it for the picture. It also makes the shot a little more attractive.

And that’s all she wrote.

Mediterranean Pasta
Adapted from the UNH Good Eats! Cookbook

1 tbsp olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced or finely chopped
1-28 oz can diced tomatoes (use whole peeled if you’re leaving out the pasta)
1-14 oz can cannellini (also called white kidney beans and similar to Navy or Great Northern Beans)
1 tbsp dried basil leaves
1 tbsp dried oregano leaves
1 tbsp kosher salt
black pepper to taste
10 oz fresh spinach, stems removed
4-8 oz cooked penne (I like the Smart Taste brand best)

First, set your water to boil, and cook pasta when it’s there (which will be at some point in the middle of all this).

Sautee the garlic in the oil in a nice big pot on low for about a minute. Enter tomatoes, beans and spices. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer, uncovered, for ten minutes while you de-stem your spinach. Now throw in the spinach and stir until it’s just wilted.

Serve atop pasta (this is a very small amount of pasta called for, there will be considerably more sauce than pasta), with feta if so desired.

Serves 4.

NOTES:
* Use a big pot because the spinach starts out really fluffy and this will give you space to stir without getting the spinach all over your stove.
* Don’t start heating your oil until the garlic is minced/chopped and ready to go, or you’ll end up with nasty bitter burnt garlic.
* Consider serving sans pasta. In this case, use the whole peeled tomatoes.
* It really doesn’t need the feta and it doesn’t need much pasta either. Honest. The spinach gets this buttery texture to it that eliminates the need for extra fat/flavour.