Not Just for Vichyssoise: Roasted Leeks

Roasted leeks - I'm making yummy noises in my mind just looking at this

 
Leeks have always been one of those things I have trouble knowing what to do with. I've made potato and leek soup dozens of times, and I love leek and mushroom risotto... and that's about it. With their tendency to pick up grit, their fibrous outer layers - leeks aren't the easiest vegetables to work with, at least for me.

Still, difficult things can offer great rewards. The delicate, sweet flavor of leeks is pretty special, and can get lost in rich or complex dishes. I don't want to oversell, but I think this recipe does them justice. Honestly, I was just fooling around and didn't expect much, but after trying them my first thought was "Holy shit, these are delicious! I'm never wasting leeks again." Sorry; I'm more profane in my mind. But aren't we all?

Seasonally, leeks are usually available from fall though late spring, though this will vary based on you're location (which is why I'm posting it in June - it's still vaguely wintery here in Scotland). Small, firm ones have the sweetest flavor, but too small and they'll be hard to manage and to eat in this form.

I'd happily serve these as an unexpected but simple appetizer, perhaps with a light, subtle dipping sauce, or just eat them all myself. Soon, I'm going to try cutting them into chip/crisp size and separating them rather than leaving them halved like this, but I also really like the combination of crispy/caramelized and velvety/sweet that you get when you leave them together in this form.

Delicious. I hope you think so.

Roasted Leeks

About 1-2 leeks per person.

Fresh, firm leeks
Olive oil
Coarsely-ground black pepper  
Sea salt

Oil an appropriately-size pan, keeping in mind that one with a lip should limit crisping more than a flat pan. Preheat oven to 375F or about 190C. I think. I don't trust my oven here, so regarding temperature and time, keep an eye on things the first time you make these.

Trim the root ends and the green parts of the leeks from where the outer layer begins to get more fibrous. Carefully rinse the sections of the leeks, letting the water run on the ends, especially if there is any looseness between the layers. If the sections are longer than 3 or 4 inches, you may want halve them lengthwise for ease of eating. Cut each section in half to expose the inside of the leek and place them in the pan with the cut side up.

Either drizzle, brush, or apply olive oil generously to the leeks, letting it seep down between the layers as much as possible. I use my fingers to rub the oil up and down them a little bit, without breaking them apart. Sprinkle with black pepper and sea salt to taste, and pop them in the oven for 10-15 minutes. As I mentioned above, my tiny dorm oven's consistency and accuracy is questionable, so keep an eye on things to gauge the time for yourself. They should be crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.

Enjoy!

Those crispy outer layers are like candy

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Heaven is a Spring Risotto with Leek, Mushroom and Carrot

Risotto Primavera with Leek, Mushroom and Carrot

Over the last year, I have grown to love risotto. The creamy texture and intense flavor that result from the slow incorporation of wine and broth as well as the endless potential of risotto as a medium make it an impressive dish, and I personally enjoy the zen-like hour of stirring in tiny amounts of liquid. Plus, it's a great workout for your arms (well, one of them).

This recipe for risotto, which has been kicking around my kitchen since about February, was conceived of as a Risotto Primavera, meant to celebrate the early spring veggies I was beginning to see at the farmers' markets. The final version is includes leek and mushroom, but it could easily make use of almost anything you want, as long as you adjust when you add the veggies so that they are fully cooked (but not disintegrating) and which wine you're using. To me, risottos are perfect year-round because of that flexibility, and because they are somehow both warm and hearty and relatively light, so they don't feel too heavy for summer.

Brainstorm: serve ratatouille over a very simple chardonnay risotto? Just thought of that. I am getting a little excited about summer and for me that means ratatouille, one of the first dishes I feel like I really perfected. I'll post that recipe when all the good summer squashes are finally out.

A note about wine - risotto is the perfect example of why they say, "Don't cook with a wine you wouldn't drink." Why? Because risotto shouldn't taste like bananas. At least, not when it also has mushrooms in it. The flavors in whatever wine you use will be intensified in the cooking process, and as the alcohol cooks off they lose that "cover," so to speak, so it is important not just what kind of wine you choose (e.g. sauvignon blanc versus chardonnay) but what it tastes like. That might sound a little fussy to some, but I have made risottos where the wine clashed badly with the ingredients and it just was not good. The wine store people always seem to have good suggestions.

In general, I try to use a sauvignon blanc with nice crisp green notes for light, fresh risottos while a big, buttery, oaky chardonnay is great for when I want a richer flavor or am working with sweeter flavors like squash or carrot. But I would really advise you to go with your instincts when pairing, and use wines you like and are familiar with. This recipe could handle most white wines without too much trouble.

Recently, I've been really wanting to make a beer risotto. I think it could work. I'll get on that soon and see what I come up with.

To the recipe!

Risotto Primavera with Leek, Mushroom and Carrot
Makes 3-4 servings, if I remember correctly. I pretty much ate it all myself.

Please forgive me if the measurements look a little strange; this one I had to do in metric because of the measuring cups I have here and converted it using the internet.


A generous 1.5 cups of Arborio rice
1.5 cups of wine
4-4.5 cups of veggie broth
3 smallish leeks
10 medium chestnut mushrooms, sliced
1-2 small carrots, quartered and thinly sliced
1/2 medium onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic
1/4 c. Earth Balance or other vegan butter (plus a little extra to add at the end, if you like)
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/2 tsp. celery seed
1/4 tsp. white pepper

Set out the wine in advance to let it get to room temperature, that would be ideal. Return the rest to the fridge so it's nice and chilled for you to drink while you cook (at least that's what I do).

Prepare the both, heating it to just below boiling in a large pot on the stove. Add the thyme, celery seed, and white pepper, stir thoroughly, and let it sit on the heat, covered, while you prep the veggies.

Slice the leeks, separate the rings, and carefully rinse them by submerging them in water and swishing them around a bit to wash all of the grit off. Leeks are notorious for sneaking dirt and grit into your food, so be thorough.

Slice the mushrooms thickly enough that as they cook they'll hold up to lots of stirring (though this needn't be too thick, they're usually pretty sturdy little guys). Quarter the carrots and slice thinly. Dice the onion and smash and finely chop the garlic.

Melt the vegan butter over medium heat in a large pot and then sauté diced onion and garlic until the onions are translucent, being careful not to burn the garlic. There should still be plenty of liquid from the melted butter at this point, and if not, add a little more and melt it, because it needs to coat the rice.


Add the rice and stir until it is fully coated in the butter. Then add the room-temperature wine, stirring as it incorporates into the rice. This is the last point at which you'll have any breaks, so make sure that all your other ingredients are at hand and you have a drink nearby, the windows open, etc., because in my experience it can get pretty hot standing over a pot for an hour (or 45ish minutes, but I rounded up for dramatic effect).


So, using a ladle or teacup or something, add about 1/3 to 1/2 cup of the hot broth to the pot and stir consistently until it is fully absorbed. Then repeat FOREVER.

You'll need to time carefully(ish) when you add your veggies so that they cook the right amount. For this recipe, add the carrots first, perhaps about 15 or 20 minutes in, and then the leek and mushroom 5 or 10 minutes later. I always think of it as about halfway through. 

The only really tricky thing about risotto is developing that eye for the texture it needs to have. I watch how quickly it oozes (somehow always a gross word, but I can't really think of another) back in to place when I scrape a spoon across the bottom of the pan - there shouldn't be any liquid flowing ahead of the risotto, but it should never be dry and should move freely, if that makes any sense. The idea is to keep it always at the point where the liquid is almost fully absorbed but the risotto is moist and isn't sticking to the pan, which seems like it can happen almost instantly, hence the constant stirring.


There are those people who say you can make perfectly acceptable risotto in a crock pot. I hate them a little bit. Risotto is a labor of love - I put in the effort because of how much I adore the result, and I think you can taste it. That gentle coaxing of more and more liquid into each fat little grain of rice is a process that I believe can't be replace by a pressure-cooker or other such modern gadgetry. I can just feel the ghost of some Italian nonna backing me up on this one.


The cooking process usually takes me about 45 minutes. Remember that you don't have to add all the liquid, just as much as you need to get the texture right. Taste it as you go along - there should be no hard or grainy bit at the center of each grain of rice, but you the grains should still be distinct. You don't want it to go all soggy or have turned into a big mushy pudding. But, ultimately, it's about your taste - stop when you think it tastes right. 


The traditional texture of risotto is referred to as all'onda, which means "like waves," referring to the way it moves when you tilt a plate of it. I like a risotto that you can eat with a fork rather than a spoon, but that's a personal preference. Just keep in mind that risotto continues to cook after you take it off the heat, and it will firm up a bit as it cools, so leave it slightly more moist than you want it to be when you serve. It is meant to be served immediately, but I always make extra and leftovers are delicious. One thing I've been wanting to try with my leftovers is little pan-fried risotto cakes, perhaps lightly breaded. Next time!


To finish, stir in a couple of tablespoons of vegan butter. Purists would tell you to whip this in as quickly as possible to emulsify the butter with the liquid (obviously, that method is more suited to risotto with more liquid at the final stage).

Enjoy!


***Special thanks to Grace Eddy for being an excellent taste-tester and for talking to me while I stirred for an hour.

Today's Lunch - Tofu Cottage Cheese with Curly Endive on Olive Ciabatta

Not to brag, but I just wanted to share this delicious sandwich which I have just consumed: 

Every part of it came from the farmer's market, which I visit every Saturday. While the long term rewards of getting my ass out of bed are easy to see (i.e. I get to eat much better quality food all week), sometimes a little instant gratification helps, so I usually get an olive ciabatta and tofu cottage cheese from the Engine Shed, at least when they turn up. 

Today I decided to amp up my usual routine of scarfing it all down sitting on a park bench somewhere by adding some onion, curly endive, and (of course) a little cayenne pepper, making for a wonderful and healthy little lunch. I need to post my recipe for tofu cottage cheese at some point, though there are hundreds out there. But with something so simple, it's all in the proportions, and personal taste varies so dramatically (Garlic! Cayenne! Lemon!). I'll do that some time soon. 

Anyway, I know this post isn't contributing a lot, but I hope you can draw something from it... make some tofu cottage cheese? Put cayenne pepper on sandwiches? Use other greens than lettuce? Whatever.

May your sandwiches be inspired!

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Neeps and Tatties (or, Scottish Root Vegetable Extravaganza)

A snow day in Edinburgh - Arthur's Seat seen from the Castle

I hate the cold. I really do. But even in the dead of winter, even this far north, there's a silver lining to be found. Namely, an excuse to revel in root vegetables.

Scots of centuries past knew what they had to work with: tubers. Haggis, Scotland's national dish, is also the result of the use-what-you've-got mentality: oats mixed with sheep entrails, onion, and spices, all packaged in a stomach. Luckily, there's plenty of interesting and tasty veggie haggis around here, too. But it's the "neeps and tatties" that usually accompany haggis that keep me coming back for seconds. Neeps and tatties are mashed swede (or rutabaga, to US readers) and mashed potato, seasoned simply and both rich and fresh-tasting. I've not yet had any here that were too heavily buttered or seasoned, probably because they're often served with a wonderfully flavorful brown gravy. 

Veggie haggis, neeps and tatties at The Conan Doyle in Edinburgh

The first time I cooked with swede was while my friend Kelly was visiting me here in Edinburgh. She had been traveling around Europe for the last 8 months, picking olives for oil in Italy, working with horses in Ireland, and generally being very glamorous (or so it seems to me, but I get to have more than one pair of pants and sleep in a real bed every night). She had picked up a recipe for swede while staying in Skibereen, in Cork, with a host named Aoife who used them in her Sunday roasts. Paired with potatoes and onions, carrots, parsnips, and whatever else is lying around, this is wonderfully simple and delicious way to tackle swede for the first time.

Roasted Neeps and Tatties 

Neeps and tatties - swede and potatoes, in my kitchen window

One large swede
About an equal amount of potatoes
Salt and black pepper
Thyme
Oil

I keep making it with just swede and potato because there's something so perfect about that simple pairing, but you can certainly add any number of other vegetables, particularly onion, carrot, or parsnip. You can also experiment quite a bit with seasonings, but keep in mind that both swede and potatoes (and indeed most root vegetables) are naturally sweet.

Preheat your oven to 400F/200C.

Begin by washing and peeling the swede; their skin is tough, so I do it with a knife rather than a vegetable peeler due to my tendency to accidentally peel my knuckles. Personally, I like to cut the swede in half, set it on my cutting board, and peel down the sides with my chef's knife. I never have gotten comfortable with those little peeling knives.


Dice the swede into small chunks. It is more dense than the potato, so plan to make your swede pieces smaller than your potato pieces so that they cook evenly.


Carefully wash the potatoes and dice them in to chunks slightly larger than the swede. I almost never peel potatoes, because the peel is so good for you and can be really tasty, but that's a personal preference. If you want to peel your potatoes, go for it.

In a mixing bowl, thoroughly combine the swede and potato, then drizzle generously with oil. Add salt, pepper, and thyme to taste, and toss well. It always seems to me like I'm adding too much seasoning, so I eat a piece of the raw potato to check, because it sucks to get to the end and sit down to eat and realized you've under-seasoned, and then you're seasoning at the table to compensate, and that's just not as good.

Also, I hear, it can cause you to eat more salt, because you get more flavor from salt that's incorporated into a dish during the cooking process than from sprinkling it on after, when the grains are intact (or something like that). Salt is my great vice, so I'm trying to think about these things... now that I'm getting older...

For this recipe, I like to use Summer Harvest's rapeseed oil, which is produced here and has a great clean flavor. Somehow olive oil isn't quite right here (though it will work just fine, of course).

Back to the recipe. Once you have appropriately seasoned your mix, spread them in a single layer on a large pan and bake for about 40 minutes. You can adapt this part a bit to a variety of uses - I bake mine uncovered for a little bit of crispiness and extra flavor, but you could cover it if you want it softer and more moist, or bake covered for the first part and uncover later.

And, done! Enjoy.

Forget about a main dish, I'll take a big bowl of this for dinner, thank you.

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Happy July! Enjoy a little Niçoise street food - Steamed Tempeh Pan Bagnat

Is it un-American to make anything except American food on the fourth of July? Setting aside, of course, the debate about whether there is any truly American food except corn with, like, walnuts and apple and maple syrup (undoubtedly all stuffed in to a pumpkin), trying to tease out what foods have spent enough time evolving in the New World to be considered American is a fruitless (ha) effort. Entire cities make my point for me - New York's beloved bagels or cannoli , beignets and cafe au lait in New Orleans, New Mexican posole. More than that, I think trying to figure out what is and isn't American is kind of missing the point of America in general.

All that to say, I made French food on the fourth of July. Don't come after me.

It's not a political statement, I just really want to make socca, and I thought it would be the perfect food to make as a snack while grilling out with my family. And if I'm making socca, I might as well go full Niçoise and do a pan bagnat sandwich as well. With rosé. Obviously.

I'll leave the socca for another time, because it didn't turn out exactly like I wanted, or anything at all like I wanted. That may be my fault, because I ran out of time to make it on the day I made the batter, so it sat around for...a bit. It is supposed to rest for a while, but only a couple hours - even overnight - not four days. Needless to say, by the time I got around to making it, it had gotten a little ferment-y. At the time, I thought, well, they let injera batter ferment in the Ethiopian heat, and this has been in the fridge, so surely it's fine. I'll take another pass at socca, but I'm beginning to suspect that I just don't like chickpea flour that much. A friend recently suggested that it's better fried, so I may do a breading with it soon, but for now I'm taking a hiatus.

While the socca was underwhelming, my steamed-tempeh pan bagnat was a spectacular success. Pan bagnat means, literally, "bathed bread," so this is a very wet salad that would be well served over a bed of lettuce as a tempeh Niçoise salad, but is traditionally paired with a very crusty baguette or bun which absorbs some of the delicious vinaigrette that seasons the ingredients. The sandwiches are also traditionally pressed and rested, again to enhance the absorption of the liquids. I tried that the first time I made it, but the home-made roll I used didn't quite hold up to it. The second time, I used a nice, crusty baguette, which performed a little better. I also served to a group of friends with little slices of baguette, and it went over very well, in spite of leaking all over everyone.

Traditionally, pan bagnat is made with tuna, so I used steamed tempeh to provide that firm texture with a touch of chewiness. The salad benefits from a little marinating, so it will continue to taste better as it sits in the fridge for a day or two. Good quality olives are key; find a grocery store with an olive bar if you live in or near suburbia, or a specialty shop if you're more urban. Also, I would marinate the onions in red wine vinegar, olive oil, and black pepper for at least several hours before you make the rest of the salad.

Steamed Tempeh Niçoise for Pan Bagnat
Makes about 8 sandwiches  or about 6 dinner-sized salads


2 8-oz packages of tempeh (for this I used WestSoy's original, which is lighter in color than the 5-grain that I  usually use, and looks great with the bright-colored vegetables)
1/2 c. red wine vinegar for tempeh marinade
1/2 c. olive oil for tempeh marinade
1/8 c. lemon juice for tempeh marinade
1 Tbsp. dulse flakes (optional - add slight seafood flavor, but won't make a big difference if you don't have them on hand)

1/2 medium onion, diced
1/4 c. red wine vinegar for onion marinade
1/4 c. olive oil for onion marinade
1/8 tsp. black pepper for onion marinade

1 small cucumber, diced

2 small tomatoes, diced

1 1/4 c. pitted green and kalamata olives, chopped (yields about 1 c. chopped)

Extra red wine vinegar, olive oil, lemon juice, and black pepper for dressing the salad

Your favorite kind of lettuce, torn into pieces for the sandwich or in larger leaves as a bed for the salad

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Ideally, marinate the diced onion in red wine vinegar, olive oil and black pepper for at least several hours and up to overnight before you prepare the salad.


Boil a good amount water in a large pot (one that has or can accommodate a steamer basket). With the basket in place, the water should not come within something like 3 inches of the basket, but fill the pot as much as possible so that you don't risk boiling it all away. As the water comes to a boil (leaving the lid on will make this happen more quickly), cut the tempeh in half lengthwise and then slice into pieces between 1/4 and 1/2 inch thick. Arrange tempeh in a single layer in the steamer basket.

Begin to prep your vegetables while the water comes to a boil. Chop cucumber, tomato, and olives, and if not prepared in advance, the onion. When the water is boiling, put the steamer basket with tempeh into the pot, cover, and steam for 10-15 minutes, until softened but not falling apart. Check a couple of times for texture if you need to. When tempeh is done, pull the basket out of the pot and set it somewhere that it can cool.

When tempeh has cooled, cut the slices into cubes and place in a large mixing bowl. Drizzle with lemon juice, then mix. Then drizzle generously with red wine vinegar and olive oil, following the guidelines above but using more if you feel you need to. Mix thoroughly but gently with your hands, trying not to break up the tempeh too much, and add dulse flakes if desired. Let the tempeh marinate for about 10 minutes, or whatever time you have (you may still be chopping vegetables). When it's done, add all the chopped vegetables, including the onion and its marinating liquid. Mix gently and drizzle with red wine vinegar, olive oil, and lemon juice to taste, adding black pepper as needed.

For salade Niçoise, spoon salad over lettuce leaves in a shallow soup bowl.

For pan bagnat, cut up a baguette into sandwich-sized lengths and cut in half, leaving a "hinge" intact. You can remove some of the bread from the inside to make room if you like (if you do, mop up some of the vinaigrette with the soft bread bits you pull out - a real perk of being the cook). Lay some torn pieces of lettuce across the sandwich, and spoon in the generous amounts of the salad. Garnish with lots of napkins.



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Mom's Vegan Banana Bread

Where I'm from, banana bread is a staple. I know this isn't a very exciting recipe, but when a neighbor comes over for coffee or you need something to take to a friend when a pet has died, good banana bread is there for you. It may not be impressive, but it is familiar and comforting. It is the baking version of watching a favorite old movie - it makes you feel nice and you don't have to think about it. It's You've Got Mail.

It is also the traditional use for that last banana that got too soft before you had a chance to eat it - let leftover bananas get good and dappled-brown, then freeze them until you have enough to make banana bread. The full loaves also freeze really well, so double the recipe and have one to defrost when old Fido finally bites it.

This is my mother's recipe; she veganized it herself, too (the asides are mine), so she deserves full credit.

Mom's Banana Bread

Makes 1 loaf

1 1/3 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. baking powder
5 Tbsp. Earth Balance or other vegan margarine
2/3 c. sugar
3 tsp. Ener-G egg replacer prepared with 4 Tbsp. water
1 c. mashed very ripe banana (about 2 bananas - better more than less, I think, so if your two bananas go a little bit over or you have 3 to use and they make up slightly more than this, toss them in. It will add more moisture, though, so compensate with a little more flour if you need to)
1/2 - 2/3 c. walnuts

Let all ingredients get to room temperature before combining.  Preheat oven to 375 and grease a loaf pan.

Thoroughly mix flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda.

In a separate bowl, beat the sugar into the Earth Balance with a mixer on high speed until it lightens in color and weight. Add the flour mixture bit by bit and continue blending until it's all added, then gradually beat in the egg replacer.

With a rubber spatula or spoon, fold in the banana and nuts until just combined, then pour the batter into the pan and spread evenly.

Bake 50-60 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Cool it in the pan for about 10 minutes before removing it to cool completely on a rack (if it is still to soft and hot when you try to unmold it, it is likely to break apart.)

Thanks, Mom!


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Knoxville's Market Square Farmer's Market

Hello all! I don't have a recipe for you today, but I feel pretty bad about having gone so long without posting. It's not for lack of work -I have 15 drafts for recipes right now, some almost complete and others still in their seminal stages, several where I've made the dish once or twice and still have some tweaking to do.

So today, instead of a recipe, I submit as a peace offering some farmer's market pictures. Saturday mornings in Market Square are my favorite time of the week, even though I only get off work for about one every six months. Enjoy!

Janine Musick with her beautiful lettuces

Milkmaid-chic at Cruze Dairy Farm

Read the flavors - all handmade and great inspiration for some vegan alternatives

Knoxvillians - find this woman and buy her lip balm. I have the mint, and I love it!

So pretty - I love the slight contrast between the blues

 

Garlic scapes - locally grown, easy to incorporate, but still seem exotic

Jim Smith from Rushy Springs Farm is they guy to talk to about peppers, herbs, and garlic varieties. Basically all the stuff that makes food taste great. Don't let him talk you in to tasting the wormwood.

More of Jim's wares, including his hot sauces

I'm going to smuggle some of his chili powders into Scotland when I go

Read the sign for humorous quotation marks

 

Art installation + urban garden in a public park

Aaaaand a pipe band. The Highland Games were coming up.

Barbecue Tempeh and Cole Slaw Sandwich with Roasted Root Vegetables

My dad was born on Mother's Day, 1949, as the fourth child of what would eventually become nine. For his mother, this timing may have been unwelcome, but it also means that once in a while, my family gets to celebrate Mother's Day and Dad's birthday at the same time.

This year, I worked Mother's Day brunch at the restaurant, one of our biggest shifts of the year, then came home to cook dinner for my parents. I let them pick whatever they wanted from my cookbooks, and this is what they chose. It worked out pretty well, and would be easy to recreate any time you want a hearty summer lunch or dinner.

The root vegetable salad is delicious hot, room temp, and even cold. I served the meal with an iced blueberry green tea, which I made by my favorite method of putting a bunch of water and tea bags in a clear gallon jug and leaving it in the sun on the porch for a while. I have a great sun tea recipe from my mom that I'll include soon, in celebration of summer.

The recipes for the barbecue tempeh and cole slaw came from Vegan Soul Kitchen, and the roasted roots recipe is from The Candle Cafe Cookbook, both on my Favorite Cookbooks page. Unfortunately I can't reprint them, because they are the product of someone else's creativity, but I will tell you a bit about them, with my modifications.

Roasted Root Vegetables

Beets
Sweet potatoes
Parsnips
Carrots

You can adjust the proportions of these however you like, based on what you like best, but my favorite combo is one beet, several sweet potatoes, and 3 each of medium parsnips and medium carrots. The beet is so dominant that one is enough for me, but feel free to add more. Personally, if I'm going to do beets, I'd rather just go all-in and do a baked glazed beet salad. I also want to try braising beets in Earth Balance and coconut milk, but that's just an idea, so proceed with caution.

Peel and dice all your veggies, making the sweet potato pieces larger than the others, because they will get softer than any of the others. Toss all with some oil of your choosing and plenty of fresh grated ginger (or not; surely you know by now how I love my ginger)

Bake in a shallow pan for about 45 minutes at 350, turning once about half-way through.

BBQ Tempeh Sandwich with Cole Slaw

There are so many wonderful barbecue sauce recipes, and to be honest this one is not fantastic, so use whatever sauce recipe you like best. Put 1/2-inch-thick slices of tempeh in the smallest baking dish that will allow them to fit comfortably in one layer, then pour the sauce over them. Cover and bake at 350 for about an hour.

You can bake for a bit and then grill, which is great if there's other grilling going on, but I don't know that it adds enough to make it worth firing up the grill just for this. If you were going to, though, you should do the sandwiches on focaccia and grill the bread for a moment, too.

Cole slaw is not difficult to make, and it is so flexible and delicious when it's made fresh, that you should never ever buy it pre-prepared in a store. At least that's my opinion. Also, a couple of heads of cabbage are undoubtedly going to be cheaper than a little tub of flavorless, mayonnaisey sludge. Yes, I do feel strongly about this, in case you were picking up on that. Here's what I used for this one:

Thinly-sliced green cabbage
Thinly-sliced red cabbage
Shredded carrots
Dijon mustard (you could use a whole-seed mustard or other, but avoid anything too smooth or too yellow)
Apple cider vinegar (use your favorite, but I would caution against anything too dark or strong, at least for this recipe)
Agave nectar
Olive oil
Cayenne
Sesame seeds (I am not a caraway person, but I think having little seed in there is nice, so this is a great alternative)

In creating your own slaw, you could include or substitute things like parsnips or jicama, use a little freshly-grated horseradish, or any number of other things. One theory would be to pick your spices, then let the oil, vinegar and veg elements fall into line behind it.

Soup Wars: Tom Kha kicks Chicken Soup's Ass Kung-Fu Style

Okay, so I know kung-fu is Chinese, but "muay-thai-style" (Thailand's signature martial art and national sport) wouldn't have been as funny.

Tom Kha is a Thai (and Laotian, or Lao) soup that is warming, filling, a little spicy, and full of hearty vegetables and tofu - the perfect contender for the "I feel terrible and all I want is soup and old episodes of West Wing" crown. The fragrant lemongrass and galanga broth, with tons of coconut milk added to make it creamy and rich, is the perfect thing to engage the dulled senses of a couch-dwelling invalid, while spicy prik pao sauce (which gives you control over how much spice you want) will clean out a congested nose and chest.


Alternately, if you're at the peak of health and all of your senses are at their sharpest, tom kha is impressive - its flavor is complex and distinctive, the lemongrass and galanga give it a fantastic scent, and the slightly translucent creamy broth with tiny beads of red oil from the prik pao is visually satisfying. Can you tell that I'm in love? Here's the bowl that did it, from Taste of Thai in Knoxville:



Note that I ate about half of it before I remembered to take a picture of it.






Just before I discovered tom kha, my brother had been in Thailand for about a month, and when he returned, he brought me back what he knew I'd like best - Thai spices. He also brought my dad the dried ingredients for tom yam, which shares the broth base with tom kha. Read the directions; my favorite is step 4.







 He really loved his time in Thailand, and came back with so many wonderful stories and such a respect for the people there. He also happens to be a wonderful photographer, so stick around after the recipe for some of my favorite pictures from his trip. Here's a teaser:

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

 Just a note - most tom kha recipes use fish sauce, which I've replaced with tamari, so if you are at a Thai restaurant, you'll want to check with them (though they'll almost certainly be using the fish sauce). This is the main reason I've made so many batches trying to perfect this recipe at home.

If you don't need this much, reduce the recipe. Leftovers lose some flavor, and though you can perk it up by adding some more fresh lime juice, it's much better fresh. Once you've made it a couple of times, this soup is extremely easy, and such a treat! Make some rice to go with it - my favorite way to eat it is by dipping a spoonful of rice into the soup so that it absorbs some liquid and then eating that. Extraordinarily good!

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Tom Kha
Serves about 6

6 c. coconut milk
3 c. water or vegetable stock
6 stalks of lemongrass
12 thin slices of galanga (a.k.a galangal or garlanga)
5 Tbsp. tamari (or other soy sauce, but you'll need a bit more - just use them to taste and watch the saltiness)
2 Tbsp. palm sugar or raw sugar
6 kaffir lime leaves, torn (these have been hard for me to find, so if you can't, just leave them out)
1/2 tsp. nam prik pao (Thai fried chili paste - really cheap at almost any Asian grocery, and very versatile)
6-10 cremini mushrooms or your favorite kind, sliced thinly
1 small carrot, thinly sliced (a mandoline would be ideal for this)

1 small crown of broccoli, cut into bite-sized florets
12-oz package of fried tofu (again, easy to find at an Asian market)
1 small bunch of fresh cilantro (don't try to substitute dried seasoning; the wilted leaf is the goal)
2 1/2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice

 First, thoroughly rinse the lemongrass and galanga. If the outermost leaf of the lemongrass has any discoloration or moldiness, remove it and rinse the remaining stalk. The waxy skin of the galanga can get a little slimy, so rinse very thoroughly.

Lemongrass, pounded and cut

Cut off the very end of each stalk of lemongrass, about the last 1/4" or 1/2". On a solid surface, use a heavy object like a rolling pin to carefully pound the length of the lemongrass stalk to break up the fibrous inside layers and release the flavor. You don't need to destroy them, just soften them up. When that's done, cut the stalks into 2-inch pieces, ending when the stalk begins to get loose and grassy. Many recipes will say to use only the white bit, but it's not a clear transition and I think a good 4 inches more are perfectly usable.

Galanga, whole and sliced

The galanga is woody and fibrous, so be careful when you cut it because it is very tough. Cut about 12 thin slices, or the equivalent in smaller angular pieces, which you will undoubtedly have to cut because the galanga root is very knobbly and irregular.


If you're in doubt, use extra lemongrass and galanga. The only element of this soup that is difficult to correct as you go along is the broth, and if it is too weak, that will really affect the taste. Also,keep in mind that it will be heavily diluted by the coconut milk, so the first time you make it, you may want to go overboard a bit until you get a feel for how much you need.

Simmer the lemongrass and galanga in the 3 cups of water in a large pot with the lime leaves and sugar for about 15-20 minutes. While this is happening, prep your vegetables. Slice the mushrooms and carrots thinly, cut the broccoli into small florets. Slice the fried tofu into small strips, about 1/4-inch thick.

Add coconut milk, nam prik pao and soy sauce, and simmer another 5 minutes. When that's done, remove all the solids with a strainer or a slotted spoon. I forgot once, added all the vegetables, then had to pick out all of the stringy bits of lemongrass by hand - not fun, and likely to burn your fingers.

Add the carrots and tofu first, then the broccoli and mushrooms a couple of minutes later. Cook until vegetables are just becoming tender but are still crispy. Remove from heat, add lime juice and cilantro and stir. At this point, adjust seasonings as you need to - if it doesn't have that distinctive Tom Kha tang, you may need more lime juice. If you want more heat, add a little more prik pao.You may need to add more salt, though the soy sauce is likely enough. Serve hot.

Enjoy some travel photos while you dig in:

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

Photo courtesy of Mason Winsauer

My brother and his fiancee, Lauren Moore, with monkey

Magnificent Brussels Sprouts - courtesy of my mom and Julia Child

I don't remember having Brussels sprouts at all as a child, though apparently we did. All I really knew about them was that people didn't seem to like them - every mention of them I'd ever heard treated them as a symbolic of the struggle of parents to make their children eat overcooked, tasteless vegetables. In fact, I heard a story recently about my friend's uncle who, as a child, dropped his unwanted sprouts through a hole in a hollow table leg so that when, decades later, the family had to take the table apart, they found dozens of shriveled Brussels sprouts. I don't remember ever expecting that they were bad - we ate loads of greens and cabbage-type-things - but I just didn't know. So, when I had them for the first time as an adult, they were a revelation.

Admittedly, no one in the world seems to love cabbage as much as I do, but I feel confident that this is objectively tasty. It's based on my mom's recipe, which flavors the sprouts with butter and breadcrumbs, but for the optimal color and texture, I've boiled them briefly then baked/braised à la Julia Child's method from Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

I know this isn't a terribly original approach; one friend insists that pan roasting is the only conceivable way to cook the sprouts, though I think millions of miserable 1950s children would beg to differ.  Even a fellow I got to talking to today at a restaurant bar took care to share with me his favorite recipe, which was remarkably like mine, only including Parmesan. Still, in a time when there's no shortage of culinary reinvention, there's a great deal of comfort and enjoyment to be had in the classics. When you're working with something so simple, the real glory is in the execution. The first time I tested this recipe, I put the butter over the breadcrumbs, and forgot to salt and pepper them while they were still naked, and that made all the difference. As usual, a little bit of technique goes a long, long way.

Magnificent Brussels Sprouts

2 lbs loose fresh Brussels sprouts (about 30 medium sprouts, as close in size as possible)
1 cup breadcrumbs
5 Tbsp. Earth Balance, melted
Sea salt
Freshly-cracked black pepper

Bring 7-8 quarts of salted water to a rapid boil. While you wait for it to boil, prep the sprouts. With a small knife, trim the base of the sprout to remove any unappealing-looking bits of stem. Pierce the base of the sprout with the tip of the knife to help the dense base cook more quickly. Remove any yellowish or wilty outer leaves. Rinse and drain in cold water. If you are using local and organic Brussels sprouts, home-grown ones, or any that may have been grown without any kind of anti-pest measure, you may want to soak them for 10 or 15 minutes in salted water to encourage any burrowing insects to extract themselves. After trimming the bases, you'll have some leaves that have fallen off, which you can use. You may want to save them for making veggie broth, but if you'd like to eat them now, you can blanch in the boiling water for a couple of minutes after you pull the sprouts out and eat them with some melted Earth Balance, a little salt and pepper, and even some leftover breadcrumbs. I tend to get peckish while I cook, so it's nice to have a little snack under the guise of preventing waste.

When your water is boiling rapidly, drop in your sprouts. Bring the water back up to a full boil as quickly as possible. Boil ("slowly," according to Julia - I imagine she means letting the water drop to a nice rolling boil rather than a more frantic, rapid boil) uncovered for 6-8 minutes, until almost tender. Remove and drain, then spread out in a single layer, not touching each other, on a clean towel to let them cool. Preheat your oven to 350. Melt the earth balance over medium-low heat on the stove or in the microwave.

When they've cooled and dried enough to handle, cut the sprouts in half lengthwise to get a nice cross-section. Rub some Earth Balance along the bottom of a pan with a cover or oven-safe casserole, whatever will hold your sprouts in a single layer. Place them in the pan with the cut sides up, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Drizzle melted Earth Balance generously over the sprouts, then sprinkle with bread crumbs into each, trying to make an even layer. 

Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes, until the sprouts are tender. Serve immediately.

Brussels Sprouts