I’LL BE BACK AFTER LABOR DAY!! I’m taking a little time off from the blog. Time to relax and recharge. I hope you won’t feel I’ve abandoned you. I love sharing my adventures in and out of the kitchen with you. Even though you’re not a very vocal bunch, I know that on some days there are actually a couple hundred of you out there, and I’m counting on all of you to come back in September—and bring some friends with you! Going forward, I’m going to try to diversify a little bit; my original intention had been to blog about more than just cooking and food. I’m still planning to conquer sourdough bread, perfect a tomato aspic and write a big-picture treatise on creating the ultimate well-stocked pantry, but I hope to begin a new series of interviews with inspiring people and also share the saga of building our dream home. For now, for these dog days, I’ll be lounging in the hammock, working on my novel and soaking up the summertime. Before I go, I’ll leave you with a few suggestions…

photo by george billard

The fruits of one’s own garden just seem to taste sweeter. Our first patty pan squash, Japanese eggplants and scallions went on the grill, along with red carrots and sweet onions from the farm. With a radicchio salad in a creamy dressing, that was all we needed for dinner the other night. I made a dipping sauce for the vegetables with an earthy red miso and it truly was perfection. A grill can really change the way you eat, especially if you live in LA or some other temperate climate. As irresistible as that charred flavor can be, I want you to be aware that too much blackened food is not good for you. Burning food produces a group of substances (polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons) that are associated with cancer, cardiovascular toxicity and immune system suppression, among other adverse effects. So avoid extreme charring of your food, and don’t eat from the grill every day. Moderation really is the key. (Except when it comes to exercise, of course.) But don’t despair! You can use you grill to cook in a number of ways that don’t involve charring but still infuse your food with that delicious smoky flavor. Low and slow, as in our pulled pork for instance, or indirect cooking, which really is the best way to do chicken or other foods that tend to burn quickly.

You can even wrap things in foil—like fish—without ever subjecting them to the fire, and you can throw on your corn in the husk (you might want to remove the silk first). Try cooking in your cast-iron skillet right on the grate, which protects food from the flames but takes advantage of the hot temperatures. It’s a great way to make skillet cornbread, by the way. Here are a few recipes for cooking on the grill; the paella I’ve been meaning to try ever since the Times published this piece by Sam Sifton two years ago. Perhaps this will be the summer…

PAELLA ON THE GRILL

from the New York Times, August 2008

serves 8

A handful of wood chips, such as fruit or hickory (optional)

One large pinch saffron

2 1/4 quarts low-sodium chicken broth

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 pounds chicken thighs

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 pound chorizo, cut into half-moons

1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

4 cups short-grain rice, such as arborio

1 1/2 pounds jumbo shrimp, peeled, deveined chopped

1 cup fresh or frozen peas

2 dozen littleneck clams, cleaned

2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley (optional).

If using, soak the wood chips in water. In a large pot, stir the saffron into the chicken broth and set over medium heat. Once hot, lower the heat and keep warm.

In an 18-inch paella pan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. (A large, wide, shallow, flameproof saucepan may be substituted — or, in a pinch, an enameled Dutch oven.) Season the chicken thighs all over with salt and pepper and brown on all sides in the hot oil. Transfer to a plate. Cook the chorizo in the same pan until it starts to brown. Transfer to a second, paper-towel-lined plate. Remove the pan from the heat.

Light a charcoal grill with about a large cereal box’s worth of charcoal. Return the paella pan to the stove and set over medium-high heat. When hot, add the onion and cook until translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, then add the rice and stir to coat. Season with salt and pepper.

Bring the stock, paella pan, chicken, chorizo and other ingredients to a table near the grill. When the fire is at its peak heat (all of the coals are lit, and you can hold your hand over the hottest part of the fire for only a few seconds), quickly stir the shrimp, chorizo and peas into the rice, then add 2 quarts of stock. Add the clams hinge-side up so that when they open in the heat, their juices are released into the rice. Nestle the chicken on top. Using thick gloves and a pair of tongs, carefully remove the grill grate. Drain the wood chips and drop them into the fire. Quickly replace the grill grate and set the paella pan on the grate. Cover the grill and cook the paella until all the liquid has absorbed, 25 to 30 minutes. If the rice is underdone, add another cup of stock and return to the fire for 5 to 7 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste and, if you choose, top with parsley.

GRILLED VEGETABLES WITH MISO SAUCE

Not really a recipe, more like an idea to get you started.

Fresh organic vegetables that can hold up to grilling, such as:

Japanese eggplants (whole); summer squash like zucchini, patty pan, etc. (cut in half); firm tomatoes (cut in half); sweet and hot peppers (whole); onions and scallions (whole, unless the onions are very big); carrots (cut in half); cabbage (wedges)

Brush vegetables with olive oil and grill over a medium flame. Sprinkle with sea salt and serve with miso sauce on the side.

1/2 red miso

1-2 teaspoons dark sesame oil

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon soy sauce

1-2 teaspoons chile sauce

2 tablespoons honey

1 teaspoon minced garlic, optional

1/4 cup warm water

Whisk all ingredients together and adjust hot, sweet and salt flavors to your taste. Add more warm water if you prefer a thinner texture.

GRILLED CAESAR

serves 2

1 1 /2  tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon mayonnaise

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

juice of 1 large lemon

2 teaspoons anchovy paste

pinch of dried mustard

1-2 cloves garlic, minced

1/3 cup grated parmigiano reggiano

sea salt and pepper

1 large romaine heart

1/2 baguette, halved lengthwise

Whisk together all ingredients except romaine and baguette. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper.

Cut romaine lengthwise in half, and brush cut side with olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. Brush baguette with olive oil.

Place romaine and bread cut-side down on medium-hot grill and cook 1-2 minutes, until charred, but not overly wilted.

Serve romaine hearts with grilled bread drizzled with dressing. You can also slice the lettuce and dice the bread for a more traditional presentation.

GRILLED PEACHES

Some suggestions for how to eat this most delicious of summer treats.

Halve peaches, remove pits and brush with olive oil, neutral oil or melted butter. Sprinkle with sea salt and pepper for savory preparations; with brown sugar or honey for sweet ones. Over a hot grill, on an oiled grate, cook peaches until lightly charred, about 2 minutes per side.

Serve with ricotta, fresh raspberries and mint; with pecorino and prosciutto; with roasted or grilled pork or duck; with grilled pound cake, drizzled with balsamic; chopped with tomatoes for a delicious relish, and on and on…

photos by anna raugalis

Readers from the early days may recall a post I wrote about my husband, a talented filmmaker and true gentleman. Well, here he is again, this time featured for completing his first narrative short film, Aftershock, which he wrote, produced and directed. (Also a DP, he decided to have someone else shoot it as he kinda had his hands full.) I am so excited for him, and have every confidence it will get into festivals and receive the acclaim it deserves. The film tells the bittersweet story of a man who loses his family in an earthquake in China, and later finds himself struggling as an immigrant in New York City. Read more about it, find out about future screenings, and see some beautiful stills and on-set photos here.

Here’s a little behind-the-scenes secret: I was asked to access my rusty acting chops and contribute some (rather emotional) voiceover work for the film’s final scene! I got to play opposite the lead, Steven Lin—unbelievably, he’s the guy below and in the first photo above.

Having already waxed poetic about peaches, I feel I must give these luscious apricots their due. Seldom have I seen such perfect specimens, firm yet yielding, their golden hue tinged with a pink blush. I find that so often apricots can be mealy and tasteless, but these are a revelation: sweet-tart, juicy, with a delicate perfume all their own. I came away from the farmstand with 7 quarts and every intention of replicating the vanilla-scented jam my mother-in-law so enjoyed 2 years ago. If you’ve never made jam, let me just warn you that most recipes call for what seems like an obscene amount of sugar, but there is another way. This time I decided to make a batch using some powdered pectin and relatively small amounts of sugar and honey. Sadly, I wasn’t totally thrilled with the results. I found the jam to be less crystalline; it seemed to have a slightly cloudy and over-gelled quality. I probably need to experiment a bit more, with quantities and timing, but I just haven’t had the extra time lately. So for now, I’m going to put these up the old-fashioned, and use organic sugar. It’s not like jam is something that gets eaten by the cupful anyway…

Even if you’re put off by large-batch canning, you can make small quantities to keep in the fridge for immediate consumption. Just know that the best jams, jellies, chutneys and preserves are made with fruit that’s at its peak—not overripe or bruised. And feel free to get creative, improvising with spices, sweeteners and combinations of fruit. If you are going to try water-bath canning, please be sure to read through these instructions.

APRICOT JAM

makes 5 pints

8 cups pitted and diced apricots

1/4 cup lemon juice

1 whole vanilla bean

6 cups sugar

Prepare your canning jars and lids according to the instructions referenced above.

Place apricots, sugar and lemon juice in a large, heavy stockpot. Split vanilla bean in half lengthwise and using the tip of the knife, scrape out all the seeds. Add seeds and pod to pot. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, skimming off any foam that rises to the top. Once mixture reaches a rolling boil, continue to boil it for 30 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent it from sticking.

Remove from heat, fish out vanilla pod, and fill jars, leaving 1/4″ head space. Wipe rims with a clean dish towel and put the 2-piece metal canning lids in place.

Process according to canning instructions, or cool and refrigerate.

Of course we all know that apricot jam is delicious on toast or with all manner of cheeses (thyme-scented goat cheese, cottage cheese, manchego). It’s also great spread on angel food cake, used in little tartlets, or heated up and basted on a grilled duck breast or roasting chicken. You can even whisk a little into salad dressing; try it with radicchio.

Few things are worse than a summer cold. The usual trajectory for me is straight from a terrible sore throat to an aggravated chest cough. Lying in bed, feverish and tangled in the sheets, there’s nothing I crave more than an icy lemonade. So I stumbled into the kitchen, squeezed 2/3 cup of lemon juice and poured that along with an almost equal amount of agave nectar into the blender. Then I filled it up with ice, added a cup of water and processed it into a crystalline slurpie. Heaven. With that and a good book (and an antibiotic if need be), I’m on the mend.

The very day the Times gave Takashi a rave review, Dickson’s announced it would be co-hosting a special dinner there, featuring an all-beef menu from a single steer it would supply. As a big fan of Dickson’s, conscientiously-raised beef, Korean barbecue and adventurous eating, I couldn’t really pass up the opportunity. Takashi—the name of the chef and his restaurant—opened in April in Manhattan’s West Village, and seems to be occupying a new space in the city’s dining landscape. The food is in the style of yakiniku, a Japanese version of Korean barbecue that originated in Japan during the Second World War, when many thousands of Koreans were conscripted into the Japanese army and brought to the island to work. Chef Takashi Inoue’s grandmother is Korean and runs a small yakiniku restaurant in Osaka. Takashi came to the United States three years ago to study English, met Saheem Ali—then a theater director, now the restaurant’s general manager—and together they opened this small restaurant. The quality of the meat on offer is fantastic. At the dinner we attended, it all came from one steer that had been provided by Dickson’s. It was a real adventure in nose-to-tail eating, and one that honored Dickson’s fine beef, Takashi’s original cooking, and the magnificent animal that made it all possible.

It was great fun to sit at the counter and see the carefully orchestrated act that is a smooth-running kitchen. Beef tartare with a quail’s egg yolk was unctuous and fresh, kicked up with one of the many “secret” sauces that Takashi learned from his grandmother. The palette of ingredients includes soy; dark sesame oil; sharp, citrusy yuzu; smoky red chile paste; and rich, funky miso.

Jake walked us through the courses so we would know what we were eating. For me, the scariest tastes were beef heart and liver, savored both raw and grilled. Neither was what I had anticipated, and I actually like the grilled liver quite a bit. You get to cook your own on the electric grills embedded in the restaurant’s tables. A narrow black exhaust hood whisks away any smoke, so the experience is quite different from the greasy (but still great) affair that is the average Korean bbq joint.

These little marrow burgers were made from meat that had been chopped, mixed with marrow and stuffed back inside the bones before grilling. They were buttery and divine. So simple yet so decadent.

There were just enough vegetables integrated into the dinner to give it a balanced feel. I especially loved these mung bean sprouts, and a dead simple salad of sliced cabbage drizzled with a sweet miso dressing.

We were served tongue 3 ways, including the fleshy tip. My favorite was the thinnest slice, grilled to crispy perfection.

It was such fun to see the master at work, to experience a totally new kind of food and, at the end, to feel sated but not stuffed. The restaurant offers little cones of vanilla soft-serve—a fitting finale to a beef-centric feast—but in solidarity with G (still no dairy for him), I passed. I encourage you to go and try it all, satisfying your appetite for both new tastes and new adventures.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The Vegetables—making their first public appearance, still dewy and radiating the blush of youth! All the months of labor are paying off. The convergence of so many elements—sun, rain, nitrogen, compost, vigilance, love—has worked its wonderful alchemy. In a beautiful act of symmetry that I find rather awesome, the fruits of our toil go back into our bodies. I hope you enjoy this little photo gallery of vegetable portraits.

A bowl of white peaches sat on the counter, their rosy, fuzzy curves as innocent and perfect as those of a child. Their sweet fragrance would waft towards me whenever I walked past and, after a few days, they hovered at that turning point of ripeness than demands attention. My freezer already held a bag of white peach purée, ready to recreate the bellini of my dreams, first sampled on a freezing January day at the crowded, overheated bar at Harry’s in Venice, surely among the most glamorous and decadent meals of my life. (When you go there, why not stick to bellinis and panini at the bar as the locals do?) There were 6 peaches, too many to simply eat out of hand now that they were on the verge of going soft. How then to take advantage of these delicate creatures? I had read recently in more than one place about peaches poached with basil, which has now taken off in our garden. I liked the idea of these two perfumey flavors coming together and decided to give it a whirl. Turns out nothing could be simpler or more perfect on a hot summer’s eve. And you’re left with plenty of divine pink syrup to mix with white wine or drizzle over yoghurt.

WHITE PEACHES IN BASIL-HONEY SYRUP

serves 4

½ cup honey

1 ½ cups water

1/2 cup rosé

6 ripe but still firm white peaches

very large handful basil leaves, divided in three

Cut the peaches in half, remove pits and then slice each half into thirds. Cut a third of the basil leaves into chiffonade, leaving the rest whole. (Stack the leaves, fold them over several times and slice the packet into thin strips.)

Place the honey, water and wine in a heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring to combine. Bring mixture to a low boil and then reduce heat to simmer gently.

Drop a third of the whole basil leaves into the syrup, and then gently add the peaches. Poach until soft but not falling apart (timing will depend on ripeness of your fruit). Use a fork to check carefully for tenderness.

Using a slotted spoon, remove the peaches to a bowl. With a pair of tongs, gently remove the skins and discard. (They should slide right off.) Add the other third of whole basil leaves to the syrup and boil until reduced by about half. Pour any juices that have collected in the bowl of peaches into this boiling syrup. When reduced, remove from heat, strain and cool.

To serve, place peaches in a bowl, garnish with a bit of the basil chiffonade and drizzle generously with syrup. Reserve the remaining syrup to use in cocktails, over ice cream, as a glaze for duck, etc.

mexican limes

Not as in Lima, Peru, as in Mexican lime. I had a reader request for Yucatecan sopa de lima, the Mexican version of Jewish penicillin, and I was happy to oblige, in part because I had a big jar of freshly made chicken stock in my fridge. The timing didn’t really work out for photos as I only know how to make them look good using natural light. So you’ll have to make do with a couple that show the difference between the small, seed-filled Mexican limes (not unlike key limes) and the more ubiquitous Persian limes. Either one works for this soup, and you can even use lemon. I ended up using both. This recipe was not something I grew up eating. My mother’s cooking was much more influenced by her mother’s New Mexico roots. And although I have eaten this soup in Mérida, I consulted a number of sources to get it right, including Rick Bayless, the Chicago-based chef (and Obama favorite) whose recipes tend to be impeccably researched and very authentic. I can’t really say this is his recipe; I changed it too much. His stock calls for pork bones, and for a few other ingredients I didn’t have on hand. But in the end, I wound up with a delicious, light but satisfying soup redolent of cinnamon and cumin, with a bit of chile heat, a pleasingly tart finish and a fabulous garnish of crispy tortilla strips. It’s great in hot weather and cold, and if you have stock on hand, you can cook up a pot in about an hour.

persian limes (found in every grocery store)

I can’t tell you the difference it makes to fry with leaf lard. I was amazed by how greaseless your tortilla strips will turn out. If you are freaked out about lard, please, take my word for it: it’s a vast improvement on frying with vegetable oil, and leaf lard in particular offers a lot of nutritional value. Ask around at your farmer’s market or organic butcher’s; I’m sure you can get yourself a tub of rendered lard.

SOPA DE LIMA (Yucatecan Lime Soup)

serves 6

1/2 teaspoon whole cumin

3 cloves

1 3″ piece cinnamon

1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns

2 tablespoons expeller-pressed peanut oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 large yellow onion, diced

2 jalapeños, stemmed, seeded and minced

1 teaspoon Mexican oregano

2 bay leaves

8 cups chicken stock

1 lemon, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon salt

1 whole chicken breast, halved (on the bone is best but I used boneless/skinless and it was just fine)

1/4 cup fresh lime juice

2-4 scallions, thinly sliced

fried tortilla strips (recipe follows)

1 lime, thinly sliced

large handful cilantro, picked and roughly chopped

Place first 4 ingredients in a mortar and pestle and pound briefly. Tie up contents in a double piece of cheesecloth and set aside.

Heat oil in a large, heavy soup pot. Sautee garlic and onion until translucent, then add chiles, oregano and bay leaves and sautee a few more minutes.

Pour in chicken stock, then add spice bag, salt and sliced lemon. Bring to a simmer and add chicken breast. Simmer, covered, for about 30 minutes. Then remove chicken and cool slightly. Slice or shred using 2 forks, and return to pot. Simmer another 10 minutes or so, to let flavors meld. Remove and discard spice bag.

Remove from heat. Stir in lime juice and scallions and taste to see if you need more salt. Serve in individual bowls, garnished with a handful of tortilla strips. Pass additional lime and cilantro on the side.

TORTILLA STRIPS

Make this garnish while the soup cooks.

8 corn tortillas

1 cup rendered leaf lard, or high-heat-tolerant oil for frying

sea salt

Heat lard or oil in a heavy skillet (cast iron is ideal). Meanwhile, cut the tortillas into 1/4″ strips.

When oil is hot, fry strips in batches, without crowding. Drain on paper towels (though if you use lard there will be virtually no draining necessary) and sprinkle with salt.

roger tory peterson and a young osprey    photo by alfred eisenstaedt

I had my first guest-post on a kindred spirit’s blog this week. The visionary Peter Buchanan-Smith honored me with a feature on his fascinating blog, Best Made Projects. We share an interest in the natural world, so when he asked me to review a field guide, I chose one by the naturalist and early environmentalist Roger Tory Peterson (seen above holding a movie camera mounted on a gun stock). Peter has kindly allowed me to re-post my review in its entirety here.

FIELDING QUESTIONS: A Review of Roger Tory Peterson Field Guides – Eastern Forests

Returning home to Sullivan County from the stinky summer streets of New York City brings a surge of relief and gratitude: the cool night air filled with the rustle of leaves and the throbbing drone of cicadas is a tonic. The woods I now call home are not the same as those I grew up with in the Santa Cruz mountains of California. Fog-shrouded sequoias and wild surf are here replaced with blazing summers and snowy winters among the hawthorn, hickory, maple and pine. The Steller’s jay of my youth is now the equally brazen blue jay of my mid-life. The fence around our small property does little to keep out all the critters that also live here, and long rambles on our kind neighbor’s thousand acres have led to countless discoveries, animal, mineral and botanical.

How then to begin to understand all these natural wonders? Each season brings uniquely intriguing sights and sounds, its own miraculous unfoldings. Where to turn to identify this orange amphibian, that proliferating fern, the eerie sound of that night creature?

There is no more reliable and exhaustive source than Roger Tory Peterson (1908–1996). An American naturalist, ornithologist, artist and educator, he was one of the founding inspirations for the 20^th-century environmental movement. No one of the past century has done more to promote an interest in living creatures. In 1934, he published the first modern field guide, his seminal Guide to the Birds. It sold out its first printing of 2‚000 copies in one week, and went through 5 subsequent editions. His detailed paintings and simplified method of identifying birds helped the layman become familiar with species through their easily observed “field marks,” rather than by the old “bird in the hand” method, thus replacing the shotgun with binoculars as the birder’s instrument of choice. Soon, his techniques were applied to all manner of flora and fauna.

My green leather-bound, gilt-edged Roger Tory Peterson Field Guides Eastern Forests – North America (written by John C. Kricher, illustrated by Gordon Morrison and edited by the master himself) is a boon companion through all seasons. As the winter snows melted this year, I opened my book to “Patterns of Spring,” and headed into the forest to the vernal pools where spotted salamanders lay their jelly-like egg masses. I discovered that the small red efts crawling on the woodland floor on early summer mornings were in their interim terrestrial stage—an adaptation that helps them disperse—and would have an unpleasant “peppery” taste designed to repel predators. I returned to the book to positively identify what turned out to be yellow-bellied sapsuckers drilling away at our old lichen-covered maple, and to learn more about the wily woodchuck that has attacked our vegetable garden two years running.

The first chapter acknowledges that “everyone begins to use a field guide by thumbing through the pages and looking at the plates of illustrations,” and, indeed, this 1988 edition has beautiful visuals that do justice to their subjects. But what’s genius about this particular field guide is that it places emphasis on the way plants and animals interact together, so you really gain an understanding of what a habitat entails. You learn the differences between a Boreal Bog (a wet, mossy place) and a Northern Hardwood Forest (full of Sugar Maple, White Pine and Eastern Hemlock) in terms of who lives there and what they eat.

Why is this good? Why do male juncos winter farther north than females? Why do some spider webs have thick zigzag strands? Why don’t herbivores eat all the leaves? Why ask why? For the answers to these and other pressing questions on the natural world, I refer you directly to Roger Tory Peterson Field Guides Eastern Forests – North America, which is laden with “Observations and Explanations,” and from whence came this illuminating statement:

“Why-type questions are ultimate-type questions. They identify the most  interesting aspects of natural history, those of adaptation and survival. The answers to ultimate-type questions reveal the actual fabric that holds nature together. Being able to ask and answer ultimate questions about natural history adds a new and powerful dimension to your understanding of nature.”