Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to

It gives my friend Reed a certain perverse pleasure to see her name in print on this page, and since I love and hate her as dearly as I love and hate myself, I afford her that luxury probably more often than is healthy. For truly, the self-indulgence of an internet soapbox does have its perks.

(I am convinced that blogging is a phenomenon that has arisen in equal parts due to our generation’s unshakeable conviction that we each have something that the world should listen to, and a corresponding waning inclination to listen to what others have to say. I mean, I only started this blog because my friends wouldn’t read my emails to them.)

But I digress. What I meant to say was, Reed visited me in the nation’s capital a while back and among the other dining establishments we went to was a brunch place on the U Street Corridor called Crème. I will write about this place some day, but what I like about it is first, that it serves the Velvet Swing – in my opinion the best Sunday morning hair-of-the-dog Champagne cocktail but one that precious few bartenders know how to make – and second, that it serves fried chicken for brunch. On top of waffles. Genius – pure, unadulterated genius.

So anyway that in turn got me thinking about dishes that I would serve or eat at any given time in the day; and the one thing I realised after way too much time and effort spent ruminating is that anytime, anywhere, you can always serve potatoes lyonnaise. What I mean to say is that I don’t think this humble (side)dish gets the credit it deserves. It is easy to make and such a great foil for everything: so comforting in its rustic charm, so understated and yet so, so satisfying. Here is how I make it.

Chez 1734 Potatoes Lyonnaise
(I usually make a potato per person, this serving is for 2)

2 large potatoes, cut into bite-sized chunks
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
crumbled thyme
healthy dash of paprika
dash of cayenne
dash of Old Bay
considered splash of chicken stock
large knob of butter
s/p

Preheat oven to 350F. In an ovenproof skillet, melt half the butter and then add garlic and onions. Season with thyme and cook on medium heat till onions begin to caramelize, about 8-10 minutes. One of the first things I learnt in my culinary education - which I accredit to Morgan and has stayed with me ever since - is how goddamn amazing onions and thyme smell when cooked together. I make it a point to always lean into the skillet, close my eyes, and inhale slowly.

Add potato chunks and the rest of the butter, then salt and pepper the mixture HEAVILY. The greatest crime ever visited on the humble potato is under-salting; the second greatest – Dan Quayle’s gross misspelling of the word itself. Season the potatoes with the paprika, cayenne and Old Bay and sauté until the potato chunks start to turn golden brown on the edges, again about 8-10 minutes. Add the chicken stock, combine, and then move the skillet to the oven. Cook at 350F for 30 minutes or until potatoes are at desired consistency – I personally like them to keep their shape but break apart into a mushy mess at the slight touch of a fork.

The best part? In the 30 minutes that you are waiting for this to cook, you have all the time in the world to make a main dish. I made this for dinner the other night and had it with steak nue, which is what I like to call steak grilled without any adornment, just salted and peppered at the dining table. I wanted to open a bottle of wine but Clayton said he would not drink any and it was the worst news I had heard all day.

Party over here!

Last night Laura and Amanda came over for dinner and Amanda spent the better part of two hours making me laugh uncontrollably and of course, laughing uncontrollably herself. It is a wonder I managed to keep my food down. We had a savoury tart - something quite ambitious for me because it is not a technique that I am particularly comfortable with - and a salad that Amanda and I piled heaping mounds of BBQ pulled pork on. For my point is that Laura is vegetarian and always a pain in the butt to cook for (but a lovely one at that); because I usually make meat on the side and I use a different set of utensils and kitchen implements to make the vegetarian portion of the meal - I am dorky like that - and thus end up with a mountain of dishes. Anyway, in summary I made something that I'd never made before and it actually turned out pretty well, so here is the recipe.

Caramelized onion and butternut squash triple cheese tart

2 red onions
1 butternut squash
fresh sage, finely chopped
fresh thyme, finely chopped
a small thing of goat cheese
a small thing of fontina
equal amount of gruyere, grated
1 egg, beaten
breadcrumbs
slab of butter
2 store-bought pie crusts

Preheat oven to 375F. Take one pie crust, lay it flat and set aside. Slice squash in two and seed. Drizzle with olive oil and roast in the oven, cut side down, for 40 minutes or until soft. Meanwhile chop onions thinly and cook in butter and half the thyme, over low heat for 35-40 minutes or until glazed. Add butter and/or a teeny bit of red wine if they look like they're drying out. Once the squash is done, scoop it out of the skin and combine with onions, herbs, egg, breadcrumbs and cheese. Mix well and spread into the pie crust. Take the other pie crust that you've laid flat and use it to cover the one with the filling. Bake in oven for 30 minutes or until crust is golden brown. Cool and serve.

It was great served warm but I kept leftovers in the fridge and am going to eat it cold tonight. I can't wait.

Dining with the enemy

Lately I find myself in quite a peculiar situation to be in; what does one do when the people one finds worthy to cook for do not share your gastronomic inclinations? Whose enjoyment of the meal should you then sacrifice? It is a vexing question indeed, but perhaps one that – from time to time – yields quite pleasant answers.

I had people over for dinner last night and made an entirely vegetarian dinner - because my friend Laura is, sadly, one of the enemy. Yet there is perhaps nothing I will begrudge her – least of all a home-cooked meal prepared to the best of my ability, for she makes me laugh easily and readily and is good people. She once told me a story once about her friend Steve, the movie "So I Married an Axe Murderer" and the size of the human head that had me in stitches for days. She could have had class. She could have been a contender. By the time the year is through I promise I will stuff a sausage in her mouth. (That didn't come out quite right, I fear.)

Saffron Couscous with Pinenuts and Raisins
1.5 cups couscous
2.5 cups chicken broth
pinch of saffron threads
1 red onion, coarsely chopped
1 red pepper, coarsely chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
some chives, coarsely chopped
handful of pinenuts
handful of raisins
big pinch of paprika
pinch of cayenne
pinch of tamarind
.25 stick butter
salt and pepper

Warm the broth and throw in saffron threads; let sit on low heat for at least 15 minutes. Be careful not to let this boil. Meanwhile, toast the pinenuts in a small amount of olive oil, in a large pot till browned. Remove and set aside. Using the same pot and adding more oil, saute the garlic, red onion and red pepper with spices. Cover the pot and let sit for a couple of minutes. Add the saffron broth and bring to a boil. Once mixture is boiling, remove from heat and stir in couscous. Keep fluffing couscous while stirring in butter, then the pinenuts, raisins and chives. Ready to serve once couscous reaches desired consistency. Serves 4.

Tamarind is available in many forms. If you get the dried powder (which I did), this is not as strong as say, the pulp concentrate. Depending on how much saffron you use – for the money you pay for it nobody wants to overpower the saffron - adjust accordingly)

Slow-Roasted Tomatoes Stuffed with Spinach
8 medium-to-large cluster tomatoes
balsamic vinegar
1 bag spinach
1 onion, well chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
breadcrumbs
some heavy cream (not too much)
pinch of thyme
s/p

Preheat oven at 350F. Remove tops from tomatoes, scoop out the pulp and reserve; turning tomatoes upside down on a paper towel to dry. Lay tomatoes out on roasting pan, salt heavily and season with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Separately, saute garlic and onion, adding thyme and later, the tomato pulp and breadcrumbs. Meanwhile, cook spinach in saucepan of salted, almost-boiling water for 3 minutes until almost wilted. Drain and add spinach to garlic and onion mix. saute for a while more, add cream and cook down a little before removing from heat. Spoon this spinach-cream mixture into the tomatoes and roast uncovered at 250 for two hours. Serves 4.

As tomatoes go out of season, slow-roasting becomes an easy method to extract the fullest flavour from even the most disappointing of tomatoes. Plus, I'm a huge fan of roasting stuff because of the minimal workload - you just stuff it in the oven and go check your email. Do not hold back on the balsamic vinegar for this one. For aesthetic purposes, you can save the tomato tops and replace when serving, for presentation. Or, you can melt some cheese (mozzarella if you're classy, Kraft singles if you're not) on top of the roasted tomatoes, it all sounds good to me. I just served them as is – they looked pretty damn delicious to me, and did not disappoint.