I learned all kinds of crazy things about my beloved jícama as I was doing a little research for you. The word jícama derives from the Nahuatl “xicamatl" for a native Mexican vine, although what we eat is the plant's tuberous root. It’s from the genus Pachyrhizus, commonly referred to as "yam beans," which is yet another name for jícama. The roots can grow to be quite large, although when bigger than a canteloupe, they begin to convert their sugars into starches, becoming dry and woody. In choosing a jícama, look for medium-sized, firm tubers with no wet or soft spots. It will keep under refrigeration for up to two weeks, but I learned that optimal storage temperature is between 50 and 60 degrees, under which conditions it will keep for a month or two.
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I love discovering new things. Isn't that one of the great joys of life? I know it's a bit of a cliché, but retaining a childlike openness really does keep you young at heart. II never want to turn into one of those cranky old people afraid to try anything new, no matter how many painful setbacks my life hands me. You probably think I'm buttering you up to eat something like monkey brains, right? Worry not. I just want to introduce you to Finnish ryes. My Finnish friend Maija, a very talented writer, does a little side business in these lovely pasties (not a typo, the plural of pasty!). They are based on a traditional recipe from Karelia, a region in Eastern Finland and Western Russia, using flour made mostly from whole grain rye (plus a tiny amount of wheat). Rye flour has a low glycemic index and a high amount of dietary fiber and protein, so these make for a healthy, nourishing snack. Maija and her baking partner have come up with a selection of flavors that pay tribute to tradition but also appeal to the rather more rarified tastes of  New Yorkers. This includes the most basic rice-filled version, as well as beet-feta, spinach-garlic and sweet potato-caramelized onion-rosemary. The ryes can be eaten at room temp or pop them in the oven (even better). I enjoyed mine with a fried egg on top. Look for them at the Park Slope Greenmarket (5th Avenue) on Sundays through the fall.
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Chaats are Indian snacks and appetizers, a sort of street food that is widely welcomed indoors as well. In India, there are restaurants that specialize entirely in chaat. When I told our driver in Jaipur that I wanted to eat chaat from a street stall, he raised his brows in horror and whisked G and me to an air-conditioned restaurant where we sat amongst Indian families and had delicious sweet-tart-spicy-crunchy treats accompanied by cooling lassi. Chaat is Hindi for “to taste,” and mostly consists of small dishes, often easy to eat by hand or off banana leaves on the street. As with Indian cuisine in general, chaats are quite diverse, with many regional specialties, but quite a few are fried, like pakoras and samosas, and some are stuffed breads. Dipping sauces and raita are key to the whole experience.Many of these dishes are flavored with chaat masala, a combination of spices that varies from person to person and place to place. I buy mine pre-made (Kalustyan’s yet again) and it contains salt, amchur (mango powder), musk melon, cumin, black pepper, pomegranate seed, coriander, mint, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, chile, caraway, ajowain (a relative of coriander), cloves, hing and bay leaf. Hing? you ask.
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Someone recently accused me of eating a lot of kale. They said it as though it were an accusation, like I needed to justify myself. I hereby declare myself a lover of kale. I freely admit that. (Proof positive is this post. And this one. And this one.  And this one.) The stuff is good. Tastes delicious, is very versatile and packs a wallop of nutrition. Do you read Goop? Gwyneth Paltrow's blog sort of irritates me. I can't really pinpoint why but I think it just might have something to do with her total and unmitigated sense of entitlement. Just because you can spend two hours a day working out with Tracy Anderson in your custom-built blonde wood yoga studio in back of your lovely house in East Hampton, Gwynnie, doesn't mean we can. Grrrr. Yet we can make her I-need-to-lose-5-pounds-quick-for-this-movie-premiere kale juice cocktail (with lemon juice and agave nectar). Or even better, we can use kale to whip up deliciously salty-crunchy chips that we can munch on to our heart's content without even missing those salt-&-vinegar kettle chips one iota. Perfect for getting into fighting shape. Beach weather is coming, hard as it may seem to believe when we're currently at 28 degrees upstate!! (All those new little green leaves? Drooping in the cold, poor darlings!) So you gotta eat your kale, bay-bee!
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Thought you might be looking for a snack worthy of the Oscars. Might I suggest my recipe for the super-addictive Jimmy "Crack" Corn? It's quick and easy to make and really quite delicious. Hopefully you'll have lots of friends to share it with; if not, you're in danger of eating the whole batch. I don't dare make it at home. G and I have a history of addiction to kettle corn. It got pretty ugly. In case you're up for something a bit more ambitious and on the savory side, here's a recipe for stuffed and fried olives that recently took home the prize for "Your Best Movie Snack" on Food52. And last but not least, how about a delicious frozen treat from one of the many I've posted? Choose from cardamom ice cream; citrus sorbet; burnt-orange ice cream; grapefruit-ginger sorbet; or coconut-lime sorbet. You'll need something to keep you going—can you believe they've increased the number of nominations for Best Picture? Sacrilege! (Or pathetic desperation?) We'll be up all night. And god knows we need our energy for the intensive critiquing of the gowns, the hairdos, the facelifts, and the artificially plumped-up boobs, lip and cheeks. I'm raring to go!! Let's pray that Tilda Swinton makes her annual appearance as The Only Actress With Real Personal Style and a Sense of Fashion. If Meryl wins for her portrayal of Julia I'll have to fight back the gag reflex (just like I did while watching that parodic performance in that overrated film). Anyway, as I keep saying on Food52, it's an honor just to be nominated.
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Around the holidays, a frenzy of baking takes place. Everyone is spritzing out those German butter cookies, rolling Mexican wedding cookies, dipping things in chocolate and sticking on sprinkles. And god bless them. But ever since my holistic nutritionist Sally Kravich likened eating white flour to putting elementary-school paste up my butt, I've tried to drastically reduce the amount of traditional baked goods I eat. (And after that lovely analogy you may, too, right?) The refined sugar, the refined flour, the Crisco...it's just not doing me any favors. And because G cannot eat gluten, options diminish even further. But none of this means I'm going to give up the occasional indulgence. So when I feel like eating a cookie, I make these deliciously chewy, assertively spiced, buttery little oat cookies that pack a lot of flavor.
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Does candy-making seem way too daunting? Here's a little secret: all it takes is a clip-on thermometer and a tireless stirring arm. (Doesn't even need to be yours!) More than ten years ago, I began making caramels to give away to clients and friends during the holiday season. They've developed quite the rabid fan base and, at this point, I can't really get away with not making them. (Quite a few people have suggested I start a business selling these caramels, but I think, like Haley's comet, their occasional appearance contributes to their coveted status.)
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Once upon a time (before parasites and gluten intolerance had come into full focus in this household) two people developed something of an addiction to Kettle Corn, that aphrodisiacal delivery system for salt and sugar disguised as a light treat. We would buy a large bag from Whole Foods, certain it would last the week, and then devour the entire thing while splayed on the couch watching Big Love. The subsequent bloating and intestinal pain was deemed "worth it."All that had become like a fever dream of the past when I stumbled upon a recipe for Maple Pecan Popcorn in the now defunct Gourmet magazine. (Damn you, Condé Nast! or should I say Damn you, McKinsey?) I decided it seemed like a "healthy" alternative—no sugar, after all—and whipped up a batch with my own addition of dried cranberries and cayenne.
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My friend Carolyn’s old girlfriend Mimi, a Jew from Texas, first turned me on to pickled okra with this very brand. After encountering a beautiful crop at Juno's Farm in the Union Square farmers' market, I was inspired to replicate them. I wish I could say I grew my own but the truth is that one lone okra plant is all that survived this year's torrents. It did produce some gorgeous creamy flowers and a few long, elegant pods but not enough to put up.
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