Celebrate Good Times...

I have some fantastically wonderful good news to share with you today: Justin has accepted a full-time job in the law library at a large, international law firm with an office downtown. He first applied for a job there several months ago, but at his interview, the person he spoke with suggested that he might be better suited for another position that would be opening up there. While we were in New Orleans last month, strolling through the Garden District, he got a call from them asking him to submit his resume for this second position, and he interviewed with them again shortly after we got back. After wringing our hands for the past few weeks, Justin received the offer yesterday and accepted today!

Justin is excited about this new opportunity, and I am so, so proud of him. He'll have a better commute, better hours (including no more weekends!), paid vacation time, and health insurance. It's amazing how well things have come together for us this year, even if all this change has been a challenge at times. We are truly blessed, and very thankful for all the good fortune that has come our way so far in 2012. Here's hoping this trend continues! Congratulations, babe!

Imagine Whirled Peas...

It's a well-known fact that I am no fan of vegetables. My mother accepted this fact years ago, and largely stopped trying to foist them upon me, after I would spend entire evenings at the kitchen table having staring contests with the peas that refused to disappear from my plate when I was told that I wouldn't be dismissed from the table unless I ate them. My significant other, however, craves healthy things in his diet, and has been waging an uphill battle to get me to introduce more vegetables into our shared meals. In large part, I've been trying to accommodate his tastes, and incorporating more vegetable side dishes and selecting more meals that have vegetable components.

That's why a heavily vegetable-laced chicken salad from the most recent issue of Bon Appetit caught my eye -- now that my antagonistic relationship with peas has cooled, I thought a three-pea chicken salad would make a perfect lunch for me and my vegetable-loving boyfriend. Luckily for me, I was able to pick up all two of the necessary types of peas (snow peas and sugar snap peas) for a song at H-Mart yesterday, and we had frozen peas and frozen chicken breasts on hand, so there were few barriers standing in my way.

Just because I was able to acquire all the ingredients easily did not mean that I was able to throw this together in a timely fashion. The writers at Bon Appetit classify this as a quick meal, but they are sorely mistaken. This chicken salad is a test of one's knife skills the likes of which I have never experienced before. I spent what felt like forever thinly slicing the snow and sugar snap peas and green onion into fine ribbons, along with finely mincing the garlic and shallots. Sure, it was easy to chuck everything into a bowl and stir it up once it was all prepared, but I'm not sure the dish merited all the effort.

That's not to say that it wasn't tasty. If you like vegetables, like Justin does, I'm sure you'd enjoy this chicken salad as much as he did. For me, however, there were just too many raw vegetables and too little chicken. It was fresh, crunchy, and full of bright, spring flavors, but I couldn't ignore the voice of my inner child screaming, "Eiw! Veggies!" If you have some time on your hands, and access to a farmer's market, by all means, give this recipe a spin, you'll probably enjoy it. As for me, I'll be sticking with my much-beloved chicken salad recipe, that still has some fruit and vegetables for interest, but is more heavily skewed toward the meat side of the equation.

Three-Pea Chicken Salad

adapted from Bon Appetit

2 large shallots, 1 halved, 1 minced
2 garlic cloves, 1 smashed, 1 minced
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breasts
Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper
3/4 cup low-fat Greek yogurt
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 pound thinly sliced stringed sugar snap peas
1 cup frozen, thawed peas
1/2 cup thinly sliced stringed snow peas
1/4 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh green onion
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest plus 1 tablespoon (or more) fresh lemon juice

Place halved shallot, smashed garlic, and chicken in a medium saucepan. Add water to cover by 1 inch and season with salt and pepper. Bring water to a boil; remove pan from heat, cover, and let stand until chicken is just cooked through, 15–25 minutes, depending on size of chicken breasts. Transfer chicken to a plate and let cool. Shred or dice chicken. 

Meanwhile, whisk yogurt, oil, minced shallot, and minced garlic in a small bowl. Season dressing with salt and pepper.

Combine all peas in a medium bowl. Add chicken, dressing, parsley, green onion, lemon zest, and 1 Tbsp. lemon juice; toss to coat. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and additional lemon juice, if desired.

You Can't Win 'Em All...

It just goes to demonstrate our new-found domesticity that the primary "fun" activity of our weekend involved doing errands. After our trip to Mitsuwa, the massive Japanese grocery store, almost a year ago, Justin has been vowing to take me to H Mart, an equally vast Korean emporium where the prices are lower, and the distance isn't as far to traverse. He's been bringing it up with more frequency ever since we moved closer to it, so I decided to take him up on his offer this weekend.

My motives weren't entirely pure; I mostly acquiesced because I had a cut-up pineapple languishing in the fridge that we weren't eating fast enough, and I had my eye on a recipe for pineapple fried rice that called for a few ingredients that wouldn't be easily found at the local grocery store. Plus, with H Mart's supposedly rock-bottom prices on produce, I figured we could pick up all the ingredients for the dish and a few more veggies for the rest of the week while we were there.

Sure enough, we found everything that we needed at H Mart, but not without inducing a near state of panic attack in me. While Justin was happily munching his way through all the free samples and gleefully checking out all the mysterious and unknown food products, I was being elbowed by little old ladies vigorously jockeying for the best piece of ginger, and having garlic practically ripped out of my hands by eager shoppers. It was hard to know what most of the items for sale even were, much less find what I was looking for, and I mostly lucked into finding the items on my grocery list. By the end of the trip, I found myself completely overwhelmed and taking refuge in the American food aisle (full of cereal, chips, and dairy products), which was the only part of the store that wasn't swarming with people. I'm not sure when I'll want to go back, but the prices were excellent, and the store did have a good selection of Chinese foodstuffs despite being Korean.

Sadly, I'm not sure I'll be returning to buy ingredients for this particular recipe. My usual fried-rice recipe hails from Katherine, and it's very heavy on the garlic, but features little else besides a bit of chicken and some carrots. I find it to be perfect comfort food (plus, it reminds me of my best friend), but Justin thinks it's too bland, which is what had me searching for a recipe we could both enjoy. This pineapple fried rice didn't fit the bill. The fruit was paired with Chinese sausage, which I'm generally a fan of, but the flavor profile of the meat skews towards the sweet side, and there was additional sweetness provided by hoisin sauce. The whole thing was just too sweet. Maybe if there had been more garlic, more ground pork, and more green onions, the dish would have been more balanced, but I doubt I'll be trying it again to find out.

Domestic Goddess...

With our work schedules currently at odds (I'm home on weekends, Justin is at home on Thursdays and random Sundays), and Justin using my car to get to work in the suburbs, I've been spending my Saturdays largely stuck at home. I could walk over to the El or the Metra, or take a bus somewhere, but I spend enough time commuting during the week to want to put that kind of effort into getting myself places on the weekend. Instead, I've been trying to use my time productively, tackling my weekly chores like doing the laundry, and preparing an elaborate meal for us to consume when Justin gets home.

Today, even though the weather is frighteningly warm for March (I really don't see how people can continue to question the existence of global warming after this week), I decided to tackle a project that's been lingering on my to-do list for quite some time -- getting some use out of my massive (and massively expensive) Le Creuset dutch oven. I had meant to delve into the world of hearty braises this winter, but with the move, I ended up not cooking much at home through the majority of the prime braising season. When I found pork roast on sale this week, I scanned through my savory recipe board on Pinterest, and spotted a recipe from the folks at America's Test Kitchen that called for preparing it in a Dutch Oven, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, weather be damned!

Though roasted meat with apples and shallots was probably too heavy for a gorgeous spring day, it was totally worth it. This meal was delicious! Pork and apples are a classic pairing, and my roast turned out perfectly after using the probe thermometer that had been MIA in my kitchen for years until I found it during the move. The meat was juicy, tender, and cooked to just the right level of doneness. Plus, the bountiful herbs reminded me of a meal I might have eaten in France. I would definitely make this dish again, though maybe when it's cooler outside and it won't heat up my kitchen.

Good as it was, I was even more impressed by the mashed potatoes that I made to go with it, almost as an afterthought. Potatoes were on sale at the grocery store, and after discovering that Justin doesn't mind washing the potato ricer after making all those mashed sweet potatoes the past month or so, I decided to give regular mashed potatoes a try as well. However, these were no regular mashed potatoes, they were garlic mashed potatoes from Alton Brown, one of my culinary icons. I saw him make these on his show years and years ago, and they stuck in my mind but I never had a chance to give them a try until now. 

Simply put, these are the greatest mashed potatoes I've ever made. Maybe even some of the best I've ever eaten. The garlic flavor is strong, so I wouldn't recommend them if you're not a fan, and they manage to be rich even though they contain only half-and-half and no butter. Parmesan cheese adds a bunch of umami that makes the dish irresistible. I literally stood over the stove with a spoon eating them straight out of the pot after dinner when I was supposed to be putting away the leftovers. If you love mashed potatoes, you seriously owe it to yourself to give this recipe a try.

Pork Roast en Cocotte with Apples and Shallots

adapted from America's Test Kitchen

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon dried rosemary

1 teaspoon dried marjoram

1 (2 1/4 lb) boneless center cut pork loin roast, trimmed

8 shallots, peeled and quartered

1 lb. apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/2-inch wedges

1/4 teaspoon sugar

Place the oven rack in its lowest position and preheat to 250°F.

1. In a small bowl, mix together the herbs, salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Rub all over roast.

2. In a Dutch oven, heat oil over medium-high heat. When hot, add roast and brown on all sides, 7 to 10 minutes. Remove roast and place on plate.

3. Lower heat to medium and add shallots to Dutch oven. Sauté 3 minutes. Add apples and sugar. Sauté 5 to 7 minutes.

4. Kill burner heat and add roast back into pan, along with any shed juices. Cover the pot with a layer of foil, and place the cover on top of that. Cook 30 to 50 minutes in the preheated oven, or until the inner temperature reaches 140°F to 145°F.

5. Remove roast from Dutch oven. Place on a cutting board, tent with foil, and let it sit for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, add some salt and pepper to the apple mixture, stir, and cover to keep warm.

6. Slice up pork and serve with shallots and apples spooned over it.

Creamy Garlic Mashed Potatoes
adapted from Alton Brown

1.75 lbs. potatoes (use whatever you prefer, I like red potatoes or Yukon golds)
1 tablespoon salt
1 c. half-and-half
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 oz. grated Parmesan

Peel and dice potatoes, making sure all are relatively the same size. Place in a large saucepan, add the salt, and cover with water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and then reduce heat to maintain a roiling boil. Cook until potatoes fall apart when poked with a fork.

Heat the half-and-half and the garlic in a medium saucepan over medium heat until simmering. Remove from heat and set aside.

Remove the potatoes from the heat and drain off the water. Mash and add the garlic-cream mixture and Parmesan; stir to combine. Let stand for 5 minutes so that mixture thickens and then serve.

Easy as π...

I have finally done it! After years of good intentions, I have finally produced a pie in honor of Pi Day! In the past, my lack of experience held me back from commemorating this psuedo-holiday, as I wasn't comfortable with the idea of tackling such a seemingly-complicated confection.When I finally conquered my fear of pie-baking last year, I found myself under the weather on Pi Day, and unable to participate. This year, however, I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way; I was absolutely determined to honor the arrival of Pi Day.

I started looking through my collection of saved pie recipes a few weeks ago to make a selection. Several of the options I'd pinned to my Pinterest inspiration board called for fruits that were out of season, so those were out. I wasn't in the mood for apple pie, and I kicked around the idea of a pie whose primary filling was salted caramel, thereby eliminating the middle man from the salted caramel apple pie and the banana caramel cream pies I made last year. Ultimately, however, I decided to go with a pie that was inspired by different salty-sweet dessert pairing that is close to my heart -- the chocolate-covered pretzel.

As I mentioned recently, I'm generally more of a salty snack kind of gal, so chocolate-covered pretzels have long been a favorite of mine. They touch on all three of my major food cravings -- salt, chocolate, and carbohydrates; truly, they are a perfect food. That's why I knew I had to make this pie the moment I saw it on a blog.

The chocolate filling for the pie is pretty standard; it's basically a regular chocolate pudding, and I felt comfortable making it after tackling pastry cream for the first time last year while making the banana caramel cream pie. The crust is what makes this pie unusual: instead of the standard graham cracker crust, the base for the pie is formed from pretzels ground with melted butter and brown sugar in a food processor and packed into the bottom of a pie plate. I'd never made a graham cracker crust before, so I can't say whether forming the pretzel crust was more or less difficult, but it was certainly less work overall than a regular pie crust.

In true chocolate-covered pretzel style, the crust received a thin layer of dark chocolate ganache before taking the creamy chocolate filling. Once the pie had firmed up, the ganache layer became texturally indistinguishable from the rest of the filling, but I appreciated the extra hit of chocolate flavor that it lent. The whole thing was topped with a luscious cloud of homemade whipped cream and a shower of shaved chocolate, making it perhaps the most attractive pie I've made to date.

My only problem with this recipe was that I wanted the crust to taste more overwhelmingly like pretzels. I'm not sure if the brown sugar mellowed the salty punch of the pretzels, or if I should have just used a pretzel with a higher salt content (in my family we like our pretzels really salty, and in fact, favor the brand Salty Stix, which should tell you everything you need to know about our preferences on that front), instead of the Rold Golds that were on sale at the store that week. As it was, the pretzels gave a nice toasted note to the crust and maintained their crunchiness surprisingly well, given the wet filling.

I'd definitely give this pie another shot, with a few tweaks to the crust, even if it were nowhere near March 14th. Good chocolate pies are hard to find, and this one fits the bill. Happy Pi Day!

Chocolate-Covered Pretzel Pie

adapted from Tidy Mom

3 c. broken pretzel sticks
3/4 c. light brown sugar, divided and lightly packed
1/2 c. unsalted butter, melted
1/4 c. cornstarch
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa
Pinch of salt
2 1/2 c. whole milk

4 egg yolks
3 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped
4 oz. semi sweet chocolate, chopped
1-1/4 c. + 2 tablespoons heavy whipping cream, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons confectioners sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. 

1. In a food processor combine pretzels, 1/4 cup brown sugar, and butter; blend until mixture resembles fine crumbs. Press mixture firmly into bottom and up sides of a 9-inch pie pan. Bake crust until fragrant and just turning golden, 10 to 15 minutes; cool.
2. In a medium saucepan whisk together 1/2 cup lightly packed brown sugar, cornstarch, cocoa, salt, and milk. Place over medium heat and stir until sugar is just dissolved, about 2 minutes. Whisk in egg yolks. Cook, stirring constantly, until custard thickens and just boils, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in bittersweet chocolate and vanilla. Place pan in a bowl of ice and water and stir occasionally until custard cools.
3. While custard cools, make a chocolate ganache to cover pie crust. Place chopped semi sweet chocolate in medium bowl. Heat 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons of heavy whipping cream in microwave about 30-40 seconds (just until boils). Pour warm cream over chocolate and stir until melted. Pour over cooled pie crust, using rubber spatula to help spread chocolate up the sides and over entire bottom of crust. Place in refrigerator or freezer until set.
4. Pour custard into cooled crust with hardened ganache and press plastic wrap directly onto surface. Chill until firm, 4 hours or up to a day.
5. Whip cream and confectioners’ sugar until soft peaks form, spread over pie and garnish with extra pretzels and chocolate shavings.

When The Moon Hits Your Eye...

Have I mentioned lately how amazing Justin is to put up with me? This point was driven home to me earlier this evening, after the two of us engaged in a ridiculous tug-of-war over a bowl of bread flour. You see, I tend to be rather anal retentive about my baking, and am a stickler for accurate measuring. The volumetric measurements preferred by American cooks, and therefore employed by American recipe authors, are the bane of my culinary existence. Depending on how hard you pack flour into a measuring cup, a seemingly standard measure can hold a wide range of actual product. Weight, however, is universal. A pound of flour weighs a pound, no matter how densely you cram it into a container.

So when I noticed Justin sweeping the excess flour from the top of a measuring cup into the bowl he was measuring it into instead of the regular container, I kind of freaked out. Cooking may be an art, but baking is a science, and I wanted the pizza crust he was making for our dinner this evening to turn out perfectly. It's hard to gauge the quality of a new recipe when you don't follow it to the letter the first time around.

Justin looked at me like I was from another planet when I asked him to re-measure it, and when I offered to do it myself, a tug-of-war ensued over the bowl of flour. Thankfully, he acquiesced, or we could have been vacuuming up bread flour from the epic mess that could have potentially ensued. I re-measured the flour using a kitchen scale, the pizza crust turned out just fine, and more importantly, Justin didn't leave me over the whole episode. When it comes to baking, I'm crazy, I know. I'm just incredibly lucky to have this man who is crazy enough about me to overlook my irrational perfectionist streak in the kitchen.

As for our dinner... it was interesting. I'd spotted an unconventional combination of toppings in Food and Wine that included sweet potatoes (which have been my recent object of obsession lately), caramelized onions in a balsamic vinegar reduction, mozzarella cheese, and soppressata, a spicy Italian salami, and was keen to try it, mostly as a potential way to use up leftover mashed sweet potatoes. While the onions were delicious, and will definitely be making an appearance elsewhere in my culinary adventures in the future, the pizza was far from the best I've ever made.

Sweet potatoes are not a good pizza topping -- very texturally challenging. I think this pizza would actually be fine without them, as the savory, spicy pork was a perfect foil to the sweet, tangy onions. Minus the sweet potatoes, I'd certainly recommend the other toppings on this pie, if you're into making your own pizza. Just don't follow my example of being a total kitchen drama queen if you decide to go that route.

If you look closely, it turned out somewhat heart-shaped...

Balsamic Onion and Soppressata Pizza

adapted from Food and Wine

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large white onion, thinly sliced

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1/4 c. plus 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1 12-inch pizza crust, par-baked

1 1/2 c. shredded mozzarella cheese

4 oz. soppressata, cut into thin ribbons

Preheat the oven to 450.

1. In a large skillet, melt the butter in the olive oil. Add the onion and dried oregano, cover and cook over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons of water to the skillet and cook over moderate heat until the onion is caramelized, about 10 minutes; add a few tablespoons of water to the skillet if necessary. Add the balsamic vinegar and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until it has evaporated, about 10 minutes. Season the onion with salt and pepper.

2. Top pizza crust with the mozzarella, onion and soppressata. Bake for about 10 minutes, until bubbling and golden in spots. Cut into wedges and serve.

What A Pear...

I don't want to jinx anything, but with longer days, the arrival of Daylight Savings Time, and the first inklings of warmer weather, I think spring may be arriving in Chicago. I'm not going to preclude the possibility of an April blizzard, but it certainly feels like spring out there, so I've decided to herald the (potential) arrival of fairer weather by resuming my production of frozen desserts. I know I said that I'd be checking out my new ice cream book, Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams At Home, come spring, but with the move, I'm not exactly sure where it is. I did, however, find my well-loved copy of The Perfect Scoop, so I decided it was time to tackle another one of it's recipes that has been haunting my imagination for years.

It should come as no surprise that this particular ice cream iteration involves caramel -- it's a flavor that has dominated my baking experiments for the past few years, from pies, to cookies, to previous ice cream recipes. It's safe to say, if I can figure out a way to get caramel into a dessert, I will. I particularly enjoy caramel when paired with various fruits. I may not have outgrown my childhood aversion to eating fresh fruits and vegetables, but adding caramel to the mix will almost certainly get me to eat fruit, even if it negates its natural nutritional value. So when I saw David Lebovitz's unique recipe for caramelized pear ice cream, I knew I had to give it a try.

I allowed my fear of candy-making to dissuade me from attempting the recipe for several years, and by the time I'd finally gotten some experience under my belt with making caramel, I never seemed to be able to coordinate pear season with my motivation to make ice cream. I came very close to trying this recipe back in December when my parents received a corporate gift of pears from Harry and David (say what you will about them; they do grow the most delicious pears I've ever had), but I thought we were getting close to moving, and it didn't make sense at the time to be producing more frozen food that would need to be transported from one fridge to the next.

We're still not technically in pear season any longer, but they were on sale at Dominick's last week, and it took them long enough to become ripe that I was able to overcome last weekend's bout of illness that left me inspired to tackle anything food-related, including eating. The fruit was finally good to go today, and making this ice cream recipe with them was surprisingly simple. The caramel and pear mixture was much easier to make than I had anticipated (I'm not sure if that's due to the humidity levels in my new home, or just the fact that I've gotten more experienced with caramelizing sugar), and the lack of a custard base meant that the ice cream came together very quickly.

The flavor ended up being a bit unusual -- the flavor of caramel is dominant, followed by a hint of fresh pear at the end. I'm glad that it was an egg-free base, as I think the eggs would have completely drowned out the other flavors, and the pear would have likely been undetectable altogether. As is true of nearly all of the Lebovitz recipes I've tried, the caramel pear ice cream was texturally perfect -- very creamy and smooth on the tongue.

Mostly, this recipe makes me want to try cutting out the fruity middle man, and create a purely caramel-flavored ice cream. Thankfully, though it's not in The Perfect Scoop, Lebovitz has a recipe for that as well. Stay tuned readers; I'm definitely going to make this happen.

Pear-Caramel Ice Cream

adapted from The Perfect Scoop

3 medium-sized ripe pears, peeled and cored

3/4 c. plus 2 tablespoons sugar

2 c. heavy cream

1/8 teaspoon salt

a few drops freshly squeezed lemon juice

1. Dice the pears into 1/4-inch pieces.

2. Spread the sugar in a large, nonreactive, heavy-bottomed saucepan. Cook the sugar over medium-heat, watching it carefully. When it begins to liquefy and darken at the edges, use a heatproof spatula to very gently stir the sugar, encouraging the heat of the liquefied sugar around the edges to moisten and melt the sugar crystals in the center.

3. Once the sugar becomes deep amber, stir in the pear pieces. Some of the caramel will seize and harden, but as you cook the pears, use a heatproof spatula to stir them and melt any bits of hard caramel. Continue to cook the pears for 10 minutes, until the pieces are cooked through.

4. Remove from the heat and stir in 1/2 cup of the cream, them mix in the remaining cream, along with the salt and a few drops of lemon juice.

5. Let cool to room temperature, then puree in a blender or food processor until smooth. Press the mixture through a mesh strainer with a flexible rubber spatula to remove any tough pear fibers.

6. Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.