The Kids Beige Buffet and Scallops with Risotto - Two Dinner Tuesday

I rarely make two dinners. When the trio grumbles about having to try a new meal, I answer them with: "Think about all the starving children in [insert impoverished nation of choice here]." Okay, I'd love to say it is because I want them to be well-rounded eaters with adventurous palates, not to mention concerned citizens of the world. But the simple truth is, I can't be bothered with double the dishwashing. However, there are a few occasions where I will make something special for Man Mountain, and let the kids have a beige buffet of couscous and chicken in nugget form.

Stonington scallops are a local delicacy and they have a sweet, slightly briny flavor. They are also a special favorite of Man Mountain's. I serve them over mushroom risotto that has been drizzled with black truffle oil (not as expensive or as hard to find as you might think. I found mine in Shop Rite!)

Scallops
1 lb. Sea Scallops
Olive oil - 2 Tbl. to coat the bottom of saute pan - (I use this almost every night!)
Shallots - 2 medium, sliced
Garlic - 2 cloves, sliced
Dry Vermouth - 2 Tbl. to deglaze pan
Fresh parsley, sea salt and lemon zest - for dusting

Saute garlic and shallots in olive oil over medium-low heat, until light blonde. Once golden, move to outskirts of saute pan so that they will not overcook. Place scallops in pan, about an inch apart. Cook approximately 3 minutes on first side (scallops should develop a nice, brown, crust), and then 2 minutes on the second. Deglaze with vermouth and allow alcohol to burn off (about another 2 minutes). Dust with fresh parsley, sea salt and lemon zest. Serve immediately.

Mushroom Risotto
Olive Oil - 3 Tbl. to coat bottom of pot
Shallots - 2 medium, chopped finely
Garlic - 3 cloves, chopped finely
Mushrooms (I prefer a mix of Portabella and Shiitake) - 1 1/2 cups, chopped
Fresh Rosemary - 1/2 tsp. diced finely
Arborio Rice - 1 1/2 cups
Vegetable Stock, warmed, - 4 - 6 cups
Salt and Pepper to taste
Mascarpone Cheese - 1/2 cup, folded in after risotto has been taken off the burner
Black Truffle Oil - Drizzle sparingly, and fold into risotto right before serving

Saute shallots, garlic, mushrooms and fresh rosemary in olive oil until garlic is light golden blonde. Add arborio rice and saute, stirring often, for 2 minutes. Add 1 cup vegetable stock, and lower heat to simmer. Keep adding cups of stock until rice has reached the texture you desire (should be creamy, yet al dente). It takes *about* 20 minutes. You do not have to stand there, stirring, and saying novenas to the saint of arborio rice. You can answer the phone, or peel a child off of your pant leg. Just stir frequently and taste every so often. And read the back of the box of the arborio rice.

When done, fold in mascarpone cheese, drizzle black truffle oil, sprinkle salt and pepper and maybe a bit more fresh rosemary, and lick the spoon!

By the way, I serve the Kids Beige Buffet and our Scallops with Risotto with the same tried and true side:

Roasted Asparagus
Foil-lined baking sheet, asparagus, sea salt, black pepper, olive oil. 350 degree oven. 10 minutes.
Kids eat it like candy.

Some days are made for pound cake...

I woke up on Tuesday morning to silence. Until as recently as six months ago, I would have bolted upright, ran into the baby's room to check her breathing (yeah, I'm crazy like that. I think I checked on the twins until they were 6!). But for some reason, I looked on this silence as a gift from God, and did not panic at the absence of sound. (This is a rarity - both me not panicking at something trivial and there being prevailing silence in my house.) There were no small children informing me that they were absolutely dying from starvation. There wasn't a load of unfolded laundry at the foot of my bed (okay, of course there was, but I chose to ignore it.) Did I actually have a little free time to myself?

I had DVR'd the season finale of The Real Housewives of New Jersey because I had spent the night before watching the Miss Universe Pageant on the phone with my middle sister. (Have I mentioned that I love the DVR? Have I mentioned that I love the Miss Universe Pageant? Or rather, I love commentating on the Miss Universe Pageant? You have not fully appreciated a Miss Universe Pageant until you have joined the women in my family for viewing. Trust me.)


Anyway, so at 7:31am, I thought I would take these precious few moments of silence, meditate, do yoga, life weights, and watch television.

At 7:44am, I heard the first scream, "MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! She's leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaking!!!!!"

I rushed into the Twins' room. The entire carpet was littered in these wet, grainy little balls. Clumps here and there, but mostly just a thin sheet of them, glistening on the carpet. And in the corner, clutching her bottom through her soggy jammy pants, was Little Bitefuls. Looking sheepish, but hardly guilty. That is when I put two and two together. They were pee-filled gel balls. That were supposed to be inside of her diaper lining. And there were millions of them. It had taken the twins just 13 minutes to rouse the baby and play some sort of jumping game that led to the destruction of a previously indestructible diaper.

I then realized that those previous 13 minutes were my "free time" for the day.

I used to think that whoever invented disposable diapers was a genius. Have you ever forgotten to take a swimmy diaper to the pool? Have you ever noticed that when your toddler waddles into that pool with a regular diaper on, it will swell to a third of her body weight? And then said toddler, with now visibly exposed (and adorable) heiny crack, will attempt to sit down in that pool, and cannot, due to the diaper having taken on floatation device properties? And on top of all that, have you noticed that the diaper, besides being filled with ten pounds of pool water is STILL NOT LEAKING? Some say environmental disaster. Some rally, "Save the Landfills!". I just marvel at the sheer genius of it.

Or at least I did. Until it DID leak. All over the carpet.

Some tips on cleaning up pee-filled gel balls
1) Pick up clumps with wet paper towels first. The weight of the vacuum will scatter the clumps to cover every part of the carpet not initially besieged with the balls.
2) Wait until the gel balls have at least partially dried before vacuuming them up.
3) Do NOT enlist help of toddlers. Or 'tweeners. Toddlers find the balls fascinating, and will try to pop them or collect them. 'Tweeners will repeatedly scream "Gross!" and give you a migraine.


So, after an hour cleaning up pee-filled gel balls, I knew I needed something with a pound of butter to get my morning back on track.

While Deb's Strawberry Coulis sounds delicious, I just heat up strawberry jelly for 20 seconds in the microwave, whisk well, and drizzle over the cake - YUM! A dollop of fresh whipped cream would also be delectable.

Could the best food on Cape Cod be...Vietnamese?

We just returned from spending the better part of a week on the beach in Cape Cod. First-timers we, so yes, we visited the famous Sundae School in Dennisport (the pistachio ice cream with homemade hot fudge was to die for!). We went to Hyannis (though nary a Kennedy in sight). Had lunch at The Pancake Man. But we didn't get to Captain Parker's for the chowdah. Maybe next time.

The weather was perfect - a hodgepodge of sun and balmy breezes. The twins skipped off to  days of swimming, capture the flag and bead making at the Kids Club (free babysitting - genius!). Little Bitefuls paddled around in a pool that glistened with the oily sheen of many a-toddlers' SPF run-off. Man Mountain, under an umbrella, with hat and sunglasses to protect his transparent skin of Welsh ancestry, promised to keep one eye on her and one eye on his stack of the ever-fascinating Orthopedics Today (love a man who can vacation AND get through his "To Do" pile at the same time!). All family members accounted for meant that I could lose myself in Jay Rayner's excellent tome on food The Man Who Ate the World. Rayner utilizes his commendable writing skills to describe his quest for the perfect restaurant meal. What a fabulous adventure! So, on a much more bourgeois scale, I decided to do the same in Cape Cod. Why did I come about this grand idea? It must have been too much sun. Or free time. (Free time - what is THAT?!) True, finding a perfect meal in the land of fried clam strips and chowder may be a challenge, but I was determined. I live in southeastern Connecticut. We have Stonington scallops, day boat cod, and sweet and briny steamers, so could I find something better, different(?) on the Cape? People don't do tours of gastronomy on Cape Cod. Maybe an ice cream parlor trawl, but a restaurant crawl?

Hermit Crab Races

Our resort was chosen with the kids in mind - sandy feet in the bed - no problem - as long as they were tanned and tired, it was going to be a successful trip for them. I loved watching the girls wade into the water, looking for hermit crabs (but finding molting horseshoe crabs instead - infinitely more interesting!) I adored seeing their utter delight in finding tiny slabs of mother-of-pearl, and then laughing out loud when they asked me if their find would "make them rich". Twin 1 won at hermit crab races and placed in Limbo (my clever girl dug a pit under the limbo bar and was awarded a trophy for her moxie!). Twin 2 took younger children under her wing, played water games and built sand castles with them. Little Bitefuls spent hours in the pool, learning how to float on her back, kick her sturdy legs and blow bubbles. She too built sand castles (and subsequently wrecked them with wild chants of "Godzilla! Godzilla!" egging her on). These were summertime memories that would stay with me, moments of sun-kissed joy caught in my camera lens. But I wanted to make even more memories, and since my favorite ones are often of the culinary kind, I thought it would be fun to do it with dinner.


Not breakfast.


In general, the American people can be broken down into two categories - breakfast people (most), and non-breakfast people. Breakfast people will drive 45 minutes out of the way for the "authentic" diner that "Serves Breakfast All Day!". Non-Breakfast people can barely choke down toast before noon, find oatmeal clogging and an omelet oozing with cheese, gut-busting.  I like to romanticize my inability to eat pancakes more than once a week (a month?) by saying I eat in a more "European style". It makes me feel better to say that than to admit that I may be un-American in my morning eating habits. One caveat for the non-breakfast eaters: If you can have eggs scrambled in the french style, do so.
That said, I live with a very American breakfast eater. Man Mountain can not only eat breakfast for dinner 5 days in a row (if need be), but can actually make a mean breakfast too. His pancakes are excellent. Plus, he can shape them into a myriad of things - Star Wars light sabers among them. And he adds Ghiradelli Chocolate Chips...Wait...did I say I wasn't a breakfast person....?


So while I'd prefer an espresso, (or several bites of leftover spaghetti bolognese from the fridge) for breakfast, the troops needed to be legitimately fed before a long day in the sun. Therefore, we decided to do one of those "Semi-Inclusives" where we got breakfast in the resort's restaurant each day. The food was standard fare, omelets, frozen sausages, undercooked bacon, excellent toast, almost decent home fries, heavily dusted with paprika. Twin 2, who tends towards taking after her mother in the non-breakfast eater category, stuck with a carb-drenched breakfast of cereal AND toast. Twin 1, who veers towards the serious sweet tooth and will choose anything that has the word "chocolate" in the title, ordered chocolate chip pancakes on a daily basis. Man Mountain tried to keep breakfast protein-rich - omelets, eggs, ham. Little Bitefuls ate french toast. Drenched in maple syrup. (Maple syrup that I had to buy on our very first day and carry around in my purse like a flask of gin because NOT ONE RESTAURANT WE WENT TO SERVED REAL MAPLE SYRUP.)


So, Little Bitefuls ate french toast every morning drenched in real maple syrup. 


And ketchup.


Yes, ketchup.


Hey, she was quiet. And she ate. And in 1980, the FDA (or some such governmental wing) declared ketchup a VEGETABLE. And again, she was well-behaved. Little Bitefuls may have looked like the antagonist in a slasher flick at the end of her meal, but nothing that a few swipes of a wet wipe or a dunk in the ocean wouldn't clear up. Our breakfasts at the Cape may have lacked culinary prowess, but they provided sustenance. And at least they didn't provide any memories of bad behavior.


Since breakfast as a gastronomic feast was out, then how about lunch? August in New England is ripe for fresh lobster rolls in a glistening, lemony, mayonnaise with bright flecks of chives and parsley. I bet I could find a delicious lunch on the Cape!


Day one, reality hit.


Try dragging a wet, wriggling, 35 pounder out of a pool with a gently voiced request of "Let's indulge Mommy's culinary quest by driving for 45 minutes in clogged traffic to sample what has been labeled as 'The Best [insert food item here] on Cape Cod!'". Yeah.......nope! Any noontime victuals we had were hastily slopped together in the dimly lit, sand-strewn motel room: soggy bread, shelf-stable peanut butter, generic strawberry jelly. Necessary fiber from white cheddar dusted rice cakes. Lovely green grapes, though, kept cold in the mini-fridge. Biting into the crisp skin and releasing currents of their chilled juice, sweet, icy and perfect in the early afternoon heat. Mini Twix bars provided a hint of sweet relief - a reward after a long, hot morning. But my dream of delightful lunchtime nibbles was merely that - a dream.


So, dinner, then?


Our first night, overloaded on chilled rose, we decided to try the resort's Bar and Grill. Definitely NOT "The Best [insert food item here] on Cape Cod". However, two more plastic cups of wine later, and I *did* enjoy the fried dough. This carnival classic, apparently Italian in provenance, was a "specialty". It was light, hot, not too oily, and coated with powdered sugar. Better than the fried dough I had had at any street fair. As the sun set, Man Mountain and I sat on beach chairs in the sand, munched on the doughy remnants, and watched as our trio danced to a local cover band. I may not have had the best meal, but it was a great summer night!


Our second night, the girls and I got dolled up in sundresses and lip gloss and the family hit the strip (in this case, Route 28), in search of a memorable meal. We had met another family with three daughters out on the beach. The Dad was wistful because his three were all teenagers and this was their last family vacation. He regaled us with stories about their Cape Cod adventures. Because I am also known to overshare family stories, we bonded, and before I knew it, I asked him for some restaurant advice. I should have known better. His favorite food vacation moments revolved around indoor pool snack bars at motels off-season. Mine include wine lists and menus in two languages, so we were most likely to be on different pages when it came to gastronomy. But because when when my mouth isn't eating, it is most likely talking, I asked him for a dinner recommendation. And then, because I have a serious Pollyanna complex, I FOLLOWED his advice. Off we went to an Italianesque (Italian-American?) restaurant. We were on early bird hours since we have a toddler, so we were seated immediately. Aforementioned Dad had suggested the garlic bread. We ordered it. Remember Dino, Fred Flintstone's pet dinosaur? He would have had trouble eating it. I wanted to sneak into the kitchen just to see what the loaf of bread had looked like before they cut it. I think Pepperidge Farm makes a frozen version of said bread called "Texas Toast" as in "Everything is bigger in Texas" Toast. The soups were corn and shrimp chowder, tasty, but thick, and accented with dots of red pepper, and a decent minestrone. The house salad had waxy olives, sweet bermuda onions, zesty pepperoncini, wilted iceberg, and a cloyingly sweet vinaigrette. Ick. The spaghetti bolognese tasted like chili powder (again, I wonder if the chef was from the southwest, and I mean El Paso, Texas, not Naples, Italy). Man Mountain's lasagna was the size of a small puppy, heavy on the dried oregano and AGAIN chili powder. The mini pizza was a stand out only in the fact that it had real mozzarella on it and the crust had some chew. We avoided dessert. Man Mountain and I rated it a step below Olive Garden. And we try to avoid Olive Garden.  Two nights in and my grand idea of finding a perfect meal on the Cape was quickly losing steam.

I needed to rethink my goal. We were having a wonderful time all day. I was living vicariously through Jay Rayner's book by planning my hypothetical Parisian food tour, getting a great tan, and having a terrific time with my family. Was I going to let my culinary disappointment infringe on those memories? I thought I would give it one more night. We had been to Sundae School and while the college boys with walkie-talkies directing traffic in the parking lot slightly marred the quaint visual of the little ice cream shop, the creamy goodness of the homemade ice cream made up for it. I had made at least one good food memory. Could my luck be changing?


Yes!


Day three brought us a palatable dinner at a Lower Cape behemoth. It was one of those places that could host a wedding...with 700 guests. We were starving from a day in the sun and motel room lunch, and ordered shrimp scampi (colossal, chewy, but sweet garlic flavor), lobster bisque (pretty good, but Flanders Fish's is better) and prime rib (seasoned well, cooked perfectly medium-rare - who knew?). Escargot was served in portobello mushroom caps, only sprinkled lightly with garlic. I missed the oozing, hot parsley-flecked and buttery sauce that normally hides in the snail shells, begging to be sopped up with crusty slices of baguette. The baked cod and scallop duo was over-capered, the salty, vinegar-laced flavor completely masking the fish. I scraped the mushy breading and capers off to the side, and enjoyed the scallops and cod for they were both cooked well. The calamari, a usual favorite with the trio, was the only inedible dish. Previously frozen and achingly rubbery, the coating was soggy and the dipping sauce was clearly Ragu Pizza Quik from a jar. The service was great.  Side note: Everywhere we went on the Cape, the service was friendly and lively. Cape Cod must employ the entire Eastern Seaboard of summering college students! Our trio loves anything "teenager" and was smitten with every suntanned and sandy-haired waiter or waitress. Most were smitten back, so service went quite smoothly. Dinner, while not one for the record books, had been the best so far. Off to Hyannis for a Kennedy sighting, or at least a decent coffee and dessert!


Finding non-instant coffee in any seasonal location is a crapshoot. And finding coffee we like is even trickier. Man Mountain and I drink gallons of the liquid stuff daily, and Blue Bottle roasts some pretty excellent beans. But espresso is still the grande dame by which all coffee is measured. We were in for a treat and then some at Caffe Gelato Bertini.

Tom Dott, who wrote about Caffe Gelato Bertini in his article "Cape Cod Ice Cream" for Edible Cape Cod stated: "Sisters Alessandra and Susi Bertini of Florence, Italy have created a visual and culinary feast one block off of Main Street, Hyannis, on Pearl Street. What’s the difference between gelato and ice cream? Ice cream is based in cream and includes 10-18 percent fat and averages 250 calories per serving. Gelato is made with whole cow’s milk and has only 4-8 percent fat, and half the calories. Alessandra and Susi refuse to cut corners; the gelato at Caffé Gelato Bertini is truly made from scratch—no base here. They will not give out any specifics besides the basics—sugar, milk, etc.—which are frozen while slowly being churned to break up forming ice crystals. That’s another difference, ice cream is churned at faster rate, adding more air into the mix, which creates the texture that you’re accustomed to. The end result for the slower mixed gelato is a denser and creamier product." And it sure was! We tried Espresso, Blueberry (made with gorgeous local berries), Chocolate, Vanilla and Pistachio. Each flavor was better than the next. Dense, complex, sweet, but not achingly so. What made the gelato so good is that it truly tasted of what it was supposed to be: The blueberry was a rich, purple hue, bursting with the flavor of the ripest New England blueberries imaginable. The espresso tasted like a frozen LavAzza latte - creamy and rich. The chocolate was smooth. It didn't have chalky undertones. It melted in your mouth like a square of dark chocolate. The vanilla was. There was no synthetic vanillin flavor, it tasted just like the first whiff you get when you open a bottle of real vanilla extract. The hot espresso and latte we had was fantastic! There was a rich coffee flavor, without a hint of bitterness. The milk was warm and frothy. Caffe Gelato Bertini is now owned by the lovely Cindy and Tom Duby, who keep to the same traditional methods that were installed by the Bertini sisters. They were friendly and kind and patiently answered all my questions on flavor profiles! They believe whole-heartedly in what they do, and we could tell. Our little family sat on the white painted bench, people-watching, savoring each spoonful and sip until we were satiated. Another good food memory made on the Cape.


And the winner for best dinner on the cape...Thuan Loi.


Thuan Loi is a Vietnamese restaurant, that looks like a little cape house, where Mom cooks in the kitchen with Son, Dad runs the front of the house with Daughter, and Grandson greets patrons warmly, and with a squirt gun. The food is homespun, and absolutely delicious! The beef pho was fresh, with thin sliced rare beef brisket swimming in an oxtail broth, homemade noodles. The cilantro, basil and star anise aroma of the soup peppered the room as we slurped it greedily - (Did I mention that this was take-out?! And that it was still hot?) The fresh spring rolls (also known as salad rolls) had the crunch and bright flavor of fresh mint sprigs and thai basil and the shrimp were steamed to perfection. The vermicelli binding was soft and the nuoc mam dipping sauce was sweet and sour and spicy, all at once. Vietnamese-style lo mein with marinated pork, flash cooked with peanuts and nuoc cham (fish sauce) was both savory and sweet, marrying the bright flavors with a bit of rice vinegar and pickled vegetables. The trio feasted on sticky rice and chicken in a ginger, garlic, basil broth with broccoli and seared beef with steamed snow peas in a sweet soy broth, with chili and garlic undertones. It had the familiar flavor profile that the girls love - soy, ginger, garlic, but with fresher, brighter elements - fistfuls of just-picked herbs - thai basil, cilantro, mint and fresh squeezed lime. It was so delicious and special, because it felt like food cooked for us by a neighbor, not a tired chef who churns out 200 portions of prime rib a night. The family who runs Thuan Loi obviously takes great pride in the homemade food that comes out of their kitchen. And we could feel that. And we felt very full. Not the MSG-laden full of some lesser-quality chinese take-out joints, but happy full. Thanksgiving dinner full. We had just eaten our best meal on the Cape.


Addendum: A perfect snack: A close third in our culinary adventure (maybe a tie for second?) is Timmy's Roast Beef. Timmy's is a sandwich shack on Route 28. On one of the days we were in Cape Cod, we did some distant relative visitin'. Missed lunch, so we needed a late afternoon snack. I try not to frequent restaurants that only do take-out, or have color photos of their food in neon lights above the cash register, or even have clever names, for that matter.  But when I saw Timmy's Roast Beef, something called out to me. This place was run down, but had a full parking lot. And it screamed of the deep South, not New England. There was not a single fish item listed on the menu. Timmy was running the joint. And he looked like he could cook. Each forearm were the size of my toddler, and in one of them he held a gorgeous, rare, hunk of roast beef. He gently laid it down on the slicer and began slicing the meat - paper thin, juicy coils of rare roast beef . This was a real locals-only place. Everyone who came in shouted his/her order: "Super Beef - extra, EXTRA sauce. Onions", or "Small, hot peppers, horseradish". Timmy's wife, 80 lbs. soaking wet, came over and took pity on me. "We make the horseradish sauce from scratch. And I'll throw in a large barbeque sauce - try it. You'll see." She did, and we did. We ate the sandwiches in the car, and Man Mountain and I just looked at each other and didn't have to say a word. Good Lord, was that a good sandwich. Maybe the best roast beef sandwich we had ever had. But it was the onion rings that won us over. The onions were hand cut from a large Vidalia right in front of me and looked like they weren't even coated. But once out of the oil, they had taken on a lovely, light-golden brown, wafer-thin crust. Hot, crunchy, thin-cut, seasoned beautifully. No need for any condiments ate all. Eaten straight out of the paper bag in 2 minutes flat. Worth the 2.5 hour drive alone.


So, my trip ended on a high note. Did I find a perfect meal? No. I've got high standards. My Mom is the best cook I know, and I still haven't had escargot in Paris or bolognese in Bologna. Did we find delicious ice cream, sensational gelato, excellent roast beef, the best onion rings we have ever had and sublime beef pho - you bet. Did we have a wonderful family vacation? Absolutely! Will I go back - you bet! Although I may get around to trying the fried clams next time to see what the fuss is all about!


BTW - I did notice that my three favorite eating spots do not have websites. Maybe it is because they are too busy making good food to maintain an RSS feed. But here are the addresses for all three. 


Caffe Gelato Bertini
20 R Pearl Street
Hyannis, MA


Timmy's Roast Beef
198 Route 28
West Yarmouth, MA


Thuan Loi
1300 Route 28
South Yarmouth, MA

Garden Bounty - Fried and Salted

Not a huge fan of eggplant. None of us are here at Chez Mountain. (Okay, except for Nana's ridiculously delicious eggplant parmigiana, but that is about it). But Papa had given Man Mountain all sorts of plants for First-Garden-Ever and whaddaya know - eggplant lived! So what does one do with foodstuffs one normally does not like - yup, deep fry and sprinkle liberally with salt! Most people would smilingly gnaw on a tire if it was hot, piping, dusted with shiny crystals of salt and smelled like it came from a KFC drive-thru. This duo of lovely aubergines were petite and their skin was so thin, we left it on. We did the tried and true method of flour-egg-panko, revved up some hot vegetable oil and voila!

Love Apples

In the 16th century, Italians thought tomatoes were poisonous. The French called them "love apples". One thing must be said about tomatoes though - they are undeniably versatile! Although it occasionally changes (notably when I am on some trip where there is lots of French food), my death row dinner would be spaghetti and meatballs slathered in tomato sauce. So when our First-Garden-Ever yielded her first tomato, I couldn't decide what to do with it. Add it to the bruschetta topping? Slice it thinly and make it the star of a BLT on brioche? We decided to just serve it naked. Well, dusted with sea salt and cracked black pepper. Yum!

Oy Soy! 10 Minute Meal, baby!

Lest you think I make fancy dinners every night (my family is rolling on the floor laughing as I type this), I thought I would let you in on a little secret. I can do a 10 minute meal. Rachael Ray has nothin' on me! I call it "Hibachi" Steak, because it tastes just like the dish you get at Benihana's, but instead of paying $39.50, it only costs you $3.50 for a bottle of Soy Vay. True, at Benihana's you get watery soup and soggy bean sprouts with squash, but I'd put my "Hibachi" Steak up against theirs any night. I use the original "Veri Veri Teriyaki". (Yes, you purists can make your own teriyaki sauce . It only takes 5 minutes to make, but then this would be a 15 minute meal, and I could be accused of false advertising.)

"Hibachi" Steak

Peanut (or vegetable) Oil - 3 - Tbl.

1 1/2 lbs. chuck steaks, cut into 3x3 inch cubes

Fresh Garlic - 2 cloves, minced

Portabella Mushrooms - sliced, pre-packaged (optional)

Soy Vay Veri Veri Teriyaki - 1/4 - 1/2 a bottle

Heat oil in large saute pan. Throw in cubed steak, garlic and mushrooms. Cook, stirring after the first 3 minutes, until desired doneness (we like it medium rare, so about 5-6 minutes total cooking). During last minute of cooking, dose liberally with teriyaki sauce. 

Serve with rice (the trio likes jasmine rice), and some steamed sugar snap peas (4 minutes in the microwave, - gotta love those Green Giant Steamers!), and you've got a meal in 10 minutes.

Spaghetti alla Carbonara

The Italians can make anything sound romantic. Spaghetti alla Carbonara. It just saucily rolls off the tongue. But what is this lovely dish, with the lilting name? In essence, "White Trash Pasta".  Spaghetti with bacon, eggs and cheese. Something you can make on a trailer hot plate. So I thought I would make it for the family. Granted, the Italians use guanciale, unsmoked pig jowl, but I use Leidy's Double Thick Cut Bacon. The cheese most often used is Parmigiano-Reggiano, although I prefer Grana Padano. Grana Padano is very similar to Parmigiano-Reggiano, but it is not aged as long and therefore has a milder flavor, allowing the bacon and eggs to shine through as well.

Ruth Reichl (Editor from the now-defunct Gourmet magazine and early 90's New York Times Restaurant Reviewer) says she never met a kid who didn't love this. So I used her recipe - I double it for my ravenous family. And she was right.

My Eat, Pray, Love - Spiced Shrimp and Red Lentil Puree

I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. And while I was slightly appalled at her self-indulgent, narcissistic drivel, I did marvel at her ability to self-promote (on Oprah - twice!!!). However, I seethed with jealousy over her foodie binges in Italy. (Full disclosure, I also read her tome on marriage, Committed, but couldn't finish it. Dry and boring like a steak at a chain restaurant. NOT recommended for Book Club!) And when I finished the book, I couldn't help wondering why she didn't continue her gastronomic gorging in India. Surely a nation as vast as India would hold even more as many culinary adventures as Italy did. So, after seeing Ms. Gilbert's mug all over television this week (Lord, not to mention Julia Roberts' and Javier (yum!) Bardem's), I thought I would whip up my own version of Eat (something warm and delicious) Pray (not to overcook or over-spice) Love (something my husband and kids would also enjoy). So, in a nod to the Indian cuisine so overlooked in the book, I made this:

Lentil Puree:
3 Tbl. Olive Oil
Onion - 1 large Spanish, diced
Garlic - 4 large cloves, diced
Ginger - 2 Tbl. fresh, diced
Carrots - 3 medium, diced
Red Lentils - 2 cups
Vegetable Stock - 5 - 6 cups

Saute onion, garlic, ginger and carrots in olive oil until softened. Add lentils and stock and bring to a boil for 3 - 5 minutes. Lower heat, cover and simmer for 15 - 20 minutes until desired consistency.

Can be made ahead, refrigerated, and served to vegans...
OR, you can add


Spiced Shrimp:
1 lb. 16-20 Shrimp - Peeled, deveined, tail off
1/2 tsp. ea.: Ground Ginger, Ground Cayenne Pepper, Ground Tumeric, Ground Nutmeg, Ground Cumin; 1/4 tsp. of Ground Cinnamon; 2 tsp. Kosher Salt and 3 Tbl. cornstarch.

Mix spice mixture and cornstarch together. Lightly dredge each side of shrimp in mixture. Pan sautee in olive oil (flecked with hunks of fresh garlic...or not), for 2 minutes first side, 2 minutes second side.

Serve on top of lentil puree with limes for a citrus zing. Yum.

(Note: My little trio prefers chicken breast chunks instead of shrimp. Prepare the same way, just cook chicken breast chunks thoroughly, approximately 4-5 minutes per side for a 2x2 inch chunk)

Lemon Obsession

I am a little obsessed with lemons. Someone asked Martha Stewart what she missed most when she was in jail and she said lemons. At least I know I'm with some classy company! So this summer I have taken to making fresh lemonade. I got into it after Man Mountain took me to dinner at Noah's in Stonington. That lemonade was freshly squeezed (and had a little Stoli added to it, mmm, mmm, mmm). But for regular sweltering days, I make this:

I even put it in Little Bitefuls' sippy cup with some ice (and without the Stoli...)

A little change - Both my friend Amy the Funeral Director and I think that the original recipe is a bit too sweet. I find that if you use 3/4 of a cup of simple syrup and 1 more large, squeezed lemon, you get the bright, lemony zest of a refreshing glass of lemonade - Enjoy!

Garden Bounty

Look, look, look! I just had to show you our very first bounty from the garden. Hand picked by my trio of little green minions who were just bursting with pride that we city folk were able to wheedle, cajole and downright demand (under great tutelage from Man Mountain who is decidedly NOT "city folk") some abundance from Mother Earth.

Why Ina Garten is a Genius

My friend Amy the Funeral Director makes this unbelievably delicious lemon-yogurt cake - from scratch. Hers always come out perfectly golden, rich and moist, with this lovely, sweet, but not cloying, dripping glaze, with the perfect amount of lemon. It tastes like homemade lemonade swirled inside of the perfect, buttery pound cake. She let me in on the fact that I too could make this cake. All I would have to do is follow Ina's recipe! Yes, we talk about Ina Garten like we know her. We are on a first name basis. "Ina says use only unsalted butter". "Ina uses EXTRA LARGE eggs! It gives cakes a more luscious creaminess." No, we have never met Ina. We each only even have two of her cookbooks between the two of us, but her recipes are genius. And when you make them, everyone compliments you on them. But even better, when you make them, YOU want to eat the food you make. You aren't tired from all the measuring and cooking. They are surprisingly easy recipes that look as good in "real life" as she makes them look in her fresh hand-picked herb filled East Hampton kitchen.

By the way, my lemon cake was good, but Amy's is better. It must be the lemons from Queens.

Blue Box Blues

I am sure that there are websites devoted to the delicious, creamy goodness that is Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. I even saw a random Food Network-esque show about people who collect the boxes from generation to generation, (I was folding laundry at the time, cut me some slack.) My kids love it. My husband loves it. I am known to "taste test" from their bowls several times to make sure it's "warm enough". So, it is not without much consideration that I attempted to "expand their lunchtime palates" to include something other than this lovely staple (made with real butter and half and half, by the way). So, I thought I would try Sesame Soba Noodles.


Could we go from this:

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To this:

Um, yup! 

Little Bitefuls scarfed it down and licked the bowl (good manners will be on our list of lessons NEXT week). Big sisters gave it two thumbs up. Man Mountain ate copious amounts for a light snack. By the way, it took me less time to make these than it does to make the Blue Box Blues. Soba are gluten-free buckwheat noodles that cook in about three minutes. In Japan it can take chefs over a year to learn how to make them appropriately. Thanks to my new favorite store, (shout out to the New Asia Market in Groton), I was able to buy some made by these (Lord have mercy, could you think of nothing more tedious to do for a year) Japanese artisans, already dried. By the way, Stop and Shop also carries pretty respectable ones (albeit, they are made in Canada, by probably less notably skilled chefs, but the upside is they probably have a bit more of a personal life.) I couldn't tell the difference. 

Sprinkle on some scallions, some toasted sesame seeds and you've got a quick, delicious meal.

Ode to the Italian Grocery!

So, my Mom and I go to this place in Fairfield. A real (yes, authentic, not a red checked tablecloth to be seen!) Italian grocery store. The fresh mozzarella, ah marrone! Huge, shiny, hand-pulled globes of the stuff, staring at you from a milky brine. Sheets of handmade pasta, gorgeous green broccoli rabe studded with red pepper flakes and glistening with olive oil and discs of fennel laced sausages. Hand cut prosciutto, slices so thin you can see through it. These slices wrapped individually in wax paper with a transparent sheet of plastic IN BETWEEN each slice (yeah yeah yeah, I can hear all my Italian girls saying right now!). The fresh ricotta is piled high in white enamel tubs, oozing with smooth, creamy goodness. The cheesecake it would make would not resemble those congealed slabs made famous in the late 80's that tasted like St. Joseph's baby aspirin. It would taste light and airy. A hint of sweetness and vanilla (yes, I can feel a recipe in the air!). Cans of whole, peeled San Marzano tomatoes from Italy. It makes me want to speak Italian, and use my hands liberally while I do it.

And Mom brought me a bounty from that grocery today. I made out like a bandit! So my kids will eat like kings tonight - hand-rolled cannelloni, stuffed with clove-infused fresh ricotta, topped with a simple San Marzano tomato sauce, flecked with basil and sliced garlic, and bubbling, melted mozzarella.

Working late husband will get some too. And he'll love it, since he does love anything the is hot, piping and smothered with cheese.

But I will dream about the mussels... and Paris....oooo, and maybe some Italian cheesecake....

Mussels a la Late Night - Part I

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I have been to Paris. Granted, I was 20 and broke, but I was in FRANCE! EVERYTHING is better in France, right? I even thought that the clearance wine, stale bread and smoked meats wrapped in plastic sheeting for sale at Monoprix (the French equivalent to Shop Rite) was DELICIOUS. I think it is because that is all my college roommate and I could afford. I mean, who would want to waste valuable booze money to taste the essence of the ocean in each bite of Mussels a la Mariniere? The gentle nuttiness and smooth mouthfeel of Escargots in garlic butter, liberally sprinkled with baby sprigs of the freshest parsley curls (my favorite dish, by the way). Chocolate croissants, hand shaped by Parisian grandmothers, or crusty baguettes from Poilane? Nope, nope and NOPE, not us! We did get to sample crepes oozing with warm Nutella from a sidewalk cart outside of the Lourve. Nutella?!?! I love sneaking spoonfuls of its silky goodness at midnight as much as the next housewife, but this was FRANCE, not ITALY! (Side note - Nutella stuffed crepes are an excellent hangover remedy, just in case you ever need one. Not that you would. This is a no judgement zone.)

So, nary a cooking day goes by in my household where I don't dream of heading off to France. (It is probably facilitated by the fact that I have gorgeous (faux) French (made in China) tiles in my kitchen with words like "La Boucherie", or "La Rotisserie" or "La Poissonerie" written on them. For you non-Francophiles, a translation is: "The Butcher Shop", "The Chicken Grill" and "The Fish Shop" Oh, who am I kidding. I know what they mean because each one has a cow, a chicken and a fish stamped beneath their title. Anyway, tonight we were going to go to France by way of Mussels a la Mariniere. I went to White Gate Farm and paid $10 for organic, hand-cultivated lobes of garlic and a fistful of just harvested baby shallots. I went to my local fish store for gorgeous, briny, East Coast mussels. I hand picked parsley from our garden. I bought a bottle of Marseillan Noilly Pratt Dry Vermouth (no cheap twist off top Chardonnay for THESE mussles). We were going to FRANCE tonight, baby!

Well...

I just found out that my husband is working late tonight. Thank god for the world wide web. I just looked up "How long can I keep mussels in the fridge?" on Google, and fortunately there are 199,000 results for me to peruse while I wait for him to get home. But will make cannelloni for the kids...

Good Impression Lunch

My middle sister does not eat mayonnaise. If it were for dietary reasons, I would claim it to be a noble endeavor. But she just does not like its velvety texture, its creamy tang, or its smooth ability to enrich the myriad of flavors in a favorite sandwich. She and her boyfriend are coming for lunch today and I want to make curry chicken salad, my proverbial ode to the supermarket roasted chicken. It usually incorporates a healthy dose of Hellman's, but I needed to up my culinary game so I decided to use coconut milk as the binding agent. Holy substitution, it was mighty good! The coconut milk (lite, no less!) actually brought out the flavors of the toasted almonds, warmed cranberries and Sambhar curry! Wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla (fresh made naan would have been delicious, too) and served with a chilled rice pilaf salad, it made a perfect Good Impression lunch.

What it contained:
Roasted Chicken (supermarket, all natural, skin removed)
Scallions
Warmed dried cranberries
Toasted almond slivers
Diced carrots
Shredded romaine lettuce
Spices - Toasted and mixed with Lite Coconut Milk - Garam Masala, Yellow Curry, Sambhar Curry
Dollop of Hot Mango Chutney (plus more on the side for dipping)

It all started with a sandwich...

It all started with a sandwich…

I went to college in rural Ohio after being raised in New York, the city, as in Manhattan. We are a rare breed, the “native” New Yorker. The ones born on the island of Manhattan. THIRD generation, no less. But I digress. So I grew up in Manhattan, where we have a lot of delis. Great delis. But I went to college in rural Ohio, where we DID NOT EVEN HAVE A STOPLIGHT. But we had a deli that wrote the names of its sandwiches in chalk on a big blackboard way before it became trendy. And they made this “Veggie Delite” sandwich. Full disclosure, I have a sign in my kitchen (found in the bowels of the clearance section in my local HomeGoods store) that reads “Eat a Cow, Save a Vegetarian”). But they had this "Veggie Delite" sandwich, made with red onions, tomatoes, banana peppers and spinach, all covered in melted provolone. And there are days I dream about this sandwich…

So, today is Sunday. A big cooking day for me. My three girls are outside paddling in a mud puddle while my husband waters our (first ever!) garden. I can have lunch by myself, without having to fork over bitefuls to the youngest (albeit, most adventurous) eater. I have leftover spinach dip (yup, the kind you make with frozen spinach and cups of mayo) and some fresh veggies….

Here’s what I made:

Here is where I paused to share with Little Bitefuls when she toddles in.

Here is what it contained:


Fresh baked Kaiser Roll
Spinach Dip Spread (see back of Lipton Box)
Banana Pepper Rings
Red Onions, Cucumbers, Tomato (from local, organic, White Gate Farm)
Avocado
Provolone
Heat Under Broiler. Eat. Share.


To counteract vegetarian lunch, I made Thai-style Green Curry Beef (although lots of veg in this one, too). (Please note: I LOVE Vegetarians. I would NEVER eat one!)

Rib-eye from my butcher, Mr. Carlo. (He always gives my kids lollipops, whether they are naughty or nice!)

Olive Oil

Red Onions

Ginger 

Garlic

Yukon Gold Potatoes

Baby Corn 

Yellow Squash

Zucchini

Carrots

Fish Sauce

Green Thai Curry Paste

Lime Juice

Soy Sauce

Dash of Mirin

Serve over Jasmine Rice

Condiments - Limes Wedges, Chives, Cilantro