The place was Nooshi (for noodles + sushi).  The sushi was decent, nothing to write home about.  But the ginger salad lingered on my palate 11 months later, mostly because RT is still talking about it.  I don’t remember who ordered the salad, but I do remember expecting to see a standard sushi joint green salad with bright orange dressing.  We were all surprised (pleasantly so, because we were starving at this point) when a large metal bowl of slaw – served family style – appeared at our table.  The bowl contained bitter shredded cabbage, salty savory roasted peanuts, acid sweet rice vinegar dressing and spicy pickled ginger, the kind generally served alongside sushi.  Biting into the ginger had the same cooling effect as sucking on an Altoid or chewing a pice of cinnamon gum.  The salad was more than refreshing; it was rejuvenating.

A lot has changed since last September.  A few weeks ago, RT moved to DC.  I am frolicking around the nation’s capital this week before I head back to Florida for my second year of law school.  I planned on surprising him after work one day with Nooshi take-out.  But when we stumbled across pickled ginger at the Korean owned market near his apartment, I had a better idea.

I recreated the salad/slaw, mimicking its flavors almost to a T.  We paired it with grilled chicken sausage, and relished the spicy sweet cool crunch on a muggy DC summer evening.  RT’s only complaint was that there were no leftovers to take for lunch.

In a large bowl, whisk together vinegar, oils, lime juice, and sugar.  Add cabbage and carrot and toss to coat.  Add ginger and peanuts, toss to coat.  Add red pepper and salt to taste.

Chill for at least 1/2 hour and serve cold.

I love cooking with fresh ingredients, but as a college student with an unpredictable schedule and conservative budget, I often rely on bags of frozen veggies to ensure that I minimize waste and maximize my ability to cook healthy food fast. However, I have recently been challenging myself to use more fresh ingredients by buying one or two fresh vegetables per week and making a couple of dishes that will keep me well-fed for a few days. Knowing that I need to use the vegetables before they spoil motivates me to get in the kitchen and come up with inventive recipes.

This afternoon at the grocery store I had my eyes on the Brussels sprouts. Over winter break in Miami, I ate the most delicious ginger glazed Brussels sprouts from a food truck. They were caramelized and juicy and spicy and sweet and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those heavenly little morsels! So, with a bag of Brussels in hand, I set out to use those flavors to make a delicious stir fry of Brussels sprouts, mushrooms, tofu, onions, brown rice, and lots of ginger.

I first sauteed the onions and ginger together, and then added the Brussels sprouts to get them caramelized. I then added in the mushrooms and tofu and let everything cook a little longer. Once everything had a nice golden color to it, I splashed in some soy sauce and sriracha, and added two generous spoonfuls of brown sugar. I popped a lid on the pan and let everything steam and soften a bit.

When the Brussels sprouts were fork tender and the tofu and mushrooms had soaked in all the sweet and spicy flavors, I added in some cooked brown rice, and voila! A heaping helping of gingery Brussels sprouts fried rice was served! Better yet, I have loads of leftovers in the fridge to last until at least the middle of the week, when I’ll tackle vegetable #2…

I hope to be better about updating my cooking adventures in the coming weeks. Until then, go take a stroll through the farmer’s market or produce department and see what inspires you!

Black beans are not only a favorite food of mine, but one that carries a slew of  fond memories.  Cuban black beans are my Abuela’s signature dish, and they steal the show away from the lechon (entire roasted pig) every Nochebuena.  My vegetarian roommate’s signature black beans are the dish I most request that she cooks for dinner.  And black bean dip was my Tio Armando’s famous appetizer, which was featured at every big family gathering and demolished the moment it hit the table.  It is with these three wonderful influences in my heart and in my palette that I created a black bean creation of my own.

This black bean dip has a spicy kick a squirt of sriracha and a sweet hint from a generous pour of sherry.  It is versatile, addictive, healthy, and as it becomes a staple in my kitchen, I foresee it becoming a component of many future memorable moments.

Click more for recipe.

Black Bean Dip

2 tsp olive oil

½ large onion, chopped

1 tsp garlic, chopped

1 tsp salt

1 tsp pepper

2 heaping tsp cumin

2 cans black beans, rinsed and drained

½ cup canned crushed tomatoes

½ cup sherry

1 tsp sriracha

1 tsp sugar

Heat olive oil in medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Sauté onion for five to seven minutes, until it begins to soften. Add garlic, salt, pepper, and cumin and sauté for another three to five minutes, until onions begin to look translucent.  Add black beans and tomatoes and cook for about three minutes. Add sherry and cook for another five minutes.  Taste beans and add sriracha, sugar, salt, and pepper to taste.

Beans can be eaten as is, but to make the dip, do the following:

Turn off heat and allow beans to cool for at least 20 minutes.  Puree beans in blender or food processor until smooth, adding a small amount of olive oil as necessary to reach desired consistency.  Serve black bean dip with chips and crudite, or use as a spread on wraps and sandwiches.

Corn is cheap, fresh, and sweet now, so I’ve been using it a lot.  Raw in salads, featured in salsa, or tossed in lime juice, salt, and chili powder, it’s a quick and simple way to evoke summer.  Because it’s a million degrees in Miami, and so humid that the air dampens your skin on contact, I tend to use summer corn in chilled dishes.  Chilled raw corn is slightly sweet, very grassy, and pleasantly neutral.  But to experience the deepest, most concentrated, essential corny flavor the summer’s crop has to offer, I turn to chowder.  Yes, thick hot soup on a thick hot evening.  But, somehow, it works.

The ingredients and amounts represent what I had on hand.  The flavors worked, but the recipe is flexible.  Because I had whole milk about to expire, I used it for most of my liquid base.  The soup would be equally creamy, and much less caloric, if one were to replace the milk with chicken stock, use a full cup of potatoes (the starch helps thicken the broth), and add a touch of cream or half and half after blending.

Corn Chowder

Serves 4 as a main course, 8 as an appetizer

3 strips of bacon, cut into lardons

1 medium onion, diced

1 sprig of thyme

½-1 cup potatoes, cut into ½ inch cubes

4 ears of corn

½ tsp jalapeno, diced small

1 bay leaf

3 cups milk

2 cups chicken stock

Salt and pepper to taste

Cut bacon, onion, and potatoes as directed.  To remove kernels from corn, cut bottom off ear and place the flat end in a wide bowl.  Cut kernels off cob from top to bottom, making sure to cut as close to the cob as possible to extract all the corn “milk.”  Reserve cobs.

In a large pot or dutch oven, cook bacon over medium high heat until dark brown and crispy.  Using a slotted spoon, remove bacon to a paper-towel lined plate and reserve.

Turn heat to medium low and sauté onions in bacon grease.  When onions become translucent (after 5-8 minutes), add thyme, sauté 1 minute, then add potatoes, sauté 1 minute, and finally, add the corn kernels (and any liquid from the bowl), jalapeño, and bay leaf.

Turn heat to high.  Add milk, chicken stock, and corn cobs.  When soup comes to a boil, cover and turn heat to low (so soup is barely simmering).  Cook for 30 minutes, or until potatoes are done, stirring every 10 minutes. 

Remove from heat.  Remove corn cobs to a large bowl.  Position flat side of cob in bowl as you did when cutting kernels; hold the top end (which will be very hot) with tongs or a kitchen towel and run the flat side of a knife or large metal spoon over the side of each cob to extract any liquid.  Return liquid to soup and discard cobs.  Discard bay leaf.

Ladle soup into a blender, filling halfway (as the rising steam creates upward pressure on lid).  Hold lid down with a folded kitchen towel, and puree on low setting until smooth, but still with texture.  Return blended soup to pot, and repeat process with blender until desired consistency is achieved.  [The soup pictured was blended twice, and still very chunky.  There were lots of fresh corn kernels and potato cubes, but I prefer a more even consistency, so I pureed the leftovers completely before saving.  Both taste great; my boyfriend prefered the chunky and I the smooth].

If soup isn’t sufficiently warm, return to heat.  Add salt and fresh ground black pepper to taste.

Serve with reserved crispy bacon.  (Other good add-ons would be grated cheddar, green onion, basil, diced tomatoes, or even ½ cup of cooked chicken or shrimp to make a complete meal).

Blueberry pie.

This dessert has been in my summer repertoire since middle school, when my best friend, Robyn, and I, spent a carefree afternoon experimenting in the kitchen with a couple pints of fresh berries and a roll of pie dough.  The result was better than we or any of our family members could have ever imagined, and it quickly became a summer staple. We’ve made pie in my kitchen, her kitchen, and hotel kitchens while on vacation.  Although today I was baking solo, I was still reminded of our years of pie baking, lattice crust decorating, and not-so-slick taste-testing before we served the warm pie to our families (is an entire chunk of crust missing really that noticeable?)

Today’s pie was made for Father’s Day. After a summery dinner, blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream was the perfect finish.  I’ll never cease being amazed by how hard indigo berries transform into plump, bubbly, amethyst gems while in the oven. I’ll never stop loving each contrasting bite of sweet, tart, crunchy, and creamy that the union of crust, fruit, and ice cream creates.  And I’ll never stop thinking how this oh-so-simple dessert equals summer perfection.

Make blueberry pie your new summer tradition. I promise you won’t regret it.

Happy Summer from mumblepie!

Blueberry pie recipe found here. Our one modification is to add the zest and juice of one lemon.

Wheatberries. All you really need to know is that these are delicious, nutty, half-chewy, half-crunchy kernels that pair just as beautifully with a dollop of yogurt and berries as they do with roasted veggies.  But if the origin of this tiny but mighty grain piques your curiosity, as it did mine, here’s the dish.

Wheatberries are the entire wheat kernel, except for the hull. If you were to grind them completely, you would make whole wheat flour. They are chock-full of iron, fiber, and protein, and surprisingly inexpensive (2 cups of wheatberries from the Whole Foods bulk bin were just $1 and made almost 5 cups of cooked grain).

For my inaugural wheatberry concoction, I made a roasted carrot salad with dried cherries, walnuts, pistachios, and goat cheese (cause goat makes everything better!) I was cooking on the fly, inspired by Moroccan spices but aiming to lighten up the flavor for the summer.  The result was an addictive salad with a diversity of textures and flavors that married quite happily. Best part was that this light yet hearty salad was enjoyed at one of mumblepie’s favorite destinations, Stiltsville.

It was the perfect midday snack on the water and continues to be the perfect lunch for the week. I can’t wait to continue experimenting with these great grains.

Click more for recipe…

Wheatberry Salad with Roasted Carrots, Dried Cherries and Goat Cheese

Wheatberries:

Bring 6 cups of water to a rolling boil with 2 tsp salt. Add 1 cup of wheatberries and boil on medium-high for 60 minutes, until wheatberries are cooked, but retain their chew.

Roasted carrots:

1 cup carrots, peeled and sliced into ½ inch rounds

2 tsp olive oil

½ tsp coriander

½ tsp

1 tsp salt

½ tsp black pepper

2 tsp honey

Preheat oven to 400^oF. Toss sliced carrots with remaining ingredients and spread in an even layer on a greased baking sheet. Roast for 25 minutes, flipping carrots halfway through.  Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly before adding them to the salad.

To assemble salad:

2 cups cooked wheatberries (see above)

1 cup roasted carrots (see above)

2 tsp olive oil

2 tbsp dried cherries, chopped

2 tbsp chopped toasted nuts (I used walnuts and pistachios)

Juice of 1 lemon

1 oz. goat cheese, crumbled

1 tbsp fresh basil, chiffonade

Salt and pepper to taste

Combine all of the ingredients. Wait until salad is at room temperature before adding the goat cheese so that it will not melt.  For best taste, allow salad to sit for at least 1 hour or up to 24 hours in the refrigerator. Salad can be kept for up to one week in the refrigerator.

But turning milk into cheese sounds intimidating.  How could I tell when my curds were curdy enough given that all I knew about curds and whey I learned from Miss Muffet?  But this afternoon my craving for palak paneer – that Indian restaurant staple of creamy spicy spinach and pillows of fresh cheese – got the best of me, and soon I was walking from work to the market on a cheese-making mission.  Fortunately for my pocketbook, paneer consists of two ingredients: milk and lemon juice.  That’s right – no salt, no rennet, even the lemon gets washed away after it performs its job as an acidic catalyst.  Paneer is a perfect blank slate.  And, as I learned tonight, homemade paneer is airy, silky smooth, and fries up golden crisp outside and marshmallow soft inside.  Witch each bite I swooned, then regretted every bag of frozen paneer or paneer substitute (firm tofu, queso para frier) I had ever used in an Indian dish.

To make the paneer I followed the technique described by Julie Sahni in Classic Indian Cooking.  It so happens that making curds and whey is as easy as finding a heavy-bottomed pot, bringing milk to a boil, and stirring in some lemon juice.

I poured it all through a cheesecloth-lined colander, rinsed away the lemon taste with cold water, and was left with the curdly good stuff.

I then tied the cheesecloth tight around the curds, squeezed out as much liquid as I could, and hung it from the faucet using the hair-tie that’s perpetually around my wrist (and now smells like cheese).

After an hour and a half of drip-drying, I moved the whole bundle to a cutting board, and pressed it flat with a heavy dutch oven, turning the cheese ball into more of a cheese puck.  Half an hour later I removed the weight and unwrapped the cloth to reveal a perfectly cube-able disk of paneer.

I cut the paneer into cubes, froze the majority for future meals, and used the rest to make palak paneer, a recipe I improvised with help from here and here.  This is my go-to dish at every Indian restaurant, but I might have ruined that for myself, because mine was better.  Sublime really.  Unlike most restaurant versions, the cheese had no hint of ruberiness or greasiness.  Its crisp outside guarded a velvet interior; and it was light, much more so than I had ever tasted.  That milk and lemon alone can make this (in the time between work and dinner) seems like pure alchemy.  Delicious alchemy.  Alchemy I shall be performing again and again.

]]> http://mumblepie.wordpress.com/2010/06/10/paneer/feed/ 2 erica Palak paneer Paneer ingredients Curds and whey Curds in collander Paneer hanging from faucet Paneer in cheesecloth Paneer whole Paneer sliced http://mumblepie.wordpress.com/2009/07/24/my-granola/ http://mumblepie.wordpress.com/2009/07/24/my-granola/#comments Fri, 24 Jul 2009 22:41:53 +0000 Joanna http://mumblepie.wordpress.com/?p=532 Continue reading →]]>

Today, I finally concocted a granola I can call my own. While I have made many batches of granola in the past, they’ve always come from recipes. My science-minded self craves structure, reliability, and accuracy. Therefore, before I set out to cook, I scour the cookbook shelf and the blogosphere for the golden ratio of ingredients. I realized that when it came to granola, this was quite hypocritical. Granola is a staple of the 1970′s, and it begs for free love. So this afternoon, I let myself go and mixed up my favorite ingredients to make the most delicious batch of granola that has ever emerged from my oven.

Inspired by a recent New York Times article, I used olive oil instead of the usual canola. This not only gave the granola a great golden color, but also imbued it with a fruity undertone. I had recently been given a giant jar of homemade honey from a farm in South Florida, and I used a generous pour to give the granola a rich sweetness. My nuts of choice were sliced almonds and bright green pumpkin seeds. I also added a healthy dose of ground flaxseed, shredded coconut, and a few grinds of sea salt.

As the granola baked away, I realized I had forgotten to add the ingredient I was most excited about: orange zest. However, this turned into a delicious mistake. The instant the warm granola came out of the oven I grated the zest of an entire orange over it and let the warm oats and nuts drink up the bright orange oil. Once it had cooled completely I tossed in dried apricots and cranberries. I’ve already munched on quite a few handfuls, and I can’t wait to have it for breakfast with Greek yogurt. I hypothesize that the results of this kitchen experiment will be well received by all taste testers

Recipe after the jump.

Joanna’s Granola
Feel free to make substitutions that suit your taste. Granola stores very well in an airtight container in the freezer.
3 cups old-fashioned oats
1 1/2 cups sliced almonds
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
2 tsp sea salt
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp honey
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 orange
2 tbsp chopped dried apricots
1/4 cup dried cranberries

Preheat the oven to 300°F. Combine oats, nuts, coconut, and salt in a large bowl. In a small heatproof bowl microwave the olive oil, honey, and brown sugar for 1 minute. Stir together the wet ingredients, making sure there are no clumps of brown sugar. Pour the wet mixture over the dry mixture and stir to coat evenly. Pour the mixture onto a large rimmed cookie sheet that has been prepared with non-stick cooking spray. Pat down the mixture so that it is in a uniform layer. Bake for 15 minutes, and then stir to redistribute the mixture. Bake for another 10 minutes, and stir again. Bake for an additional 10 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove granola from the oven and grate the zest of the whole orange over the mixture. Use your hands or a spatula to mix the zest evenly throughout the granola. Allow granola to cool for about 30 minutes and then add the apricots and cranberries. Store in an airtight container.

Complimentary truffles from the DiLido Beach Club

Last week was Erica’s birthday, but since it fell on a busy Monday, the family had a celebratory dinner Sunday night instead. As per the birthday girl’s request, we had chili-rubbed ribeyes with sweet corn and saffron mashed potatoes and a big salad. Papi also prepared some refreshing marlin ceviche, which he served with avocado and sweet potato cubes, as is customary in Peru. It was an all-around delicious meal!

But what would a birthday dinner be without a decadent dessert? 24 years of life deserve a special treat, and Erica and I spent the entire week leading up to her birthday tossing around ideas for the perfect birthday dessert. We quickly agreed that warm cake or cookie with ice cream would be the way to go, but it wasn’t until Saturday afternoon that we settled on the winning combination: warm Ghirardelli brownies (the only mix we ever use, and swear by) with homemade cherry ice cream with chocolate chunks.

I spent Saturday night staining my fingers deep magenta as I pitted close to a pound of fresh cherries. The ice cream base was extremely easy to make, requiring no eggs and a quick whirr through the blender. Many ice cream recipes call for the addition of alcohol, because since the alcohol doesn’t freeze, the ice cream retains a softer texture. I used a combination of Frangelico (hazlenut) and Chambord (raspberry) liquors and together they provided a sweet and nutty background for the tart cherries. Although I believe that when it comes to chocolate, the darker the better, Erica is a milk girl, so for this occasion, I folded in some milk chocolate chips at the end.

The brownies, fresh out of the oven, were topped with scoops of the whimsy pink ice cream and sprinkled with crunchy toasted salted almond slivers. The humble quart I made disappeared as our sweet-toothed family members lined up for servings. It had been a while since I last made ice cream, but last night reminded me of how easy and popular of a summertime dessert this is. I can’t wait to experiment with some more fruits and flavors in the near future.

I’m glad I was able to make Erica’s birthday that much sweeter. Happy Birthday, sista!

Today, Papi ended this vicious cycle.

The cover of June’s Bon Appetit had been staring at us for weeks—artfully prepared shrimp enchiladas with salsa verde. Before we had even eaten breakfast, Papi resolutely declared that we were making these for dinner. We were so excited to finally bring a beloved cover to life that we spent all day shopping and preparing for the meal. As 5pm rolled around, smells of freshly chopped oregano and cilantro and caramelizing onions filled our house. After a couple hours of kitchen teamwork, we sat down to an amazing dinner.

Papi attributes the incredibleness of this dish to all of the layers of flavor. The enchiladas were simply stuffed with sauteed shrimp, caramelized onions, and cotija cheese (a hard, crumbly Mexican cheese similar to feta), and layered with salsa verde (we took the easy way out and used Goya). But when served with creamy avocado, fresh sliced red onion, cilantro, lime, and crema (a liquidy Mexican sour cream), magic happened. The melange of textures, temperatures, and tastes melded perfectly. We served the enchiladas alongside Mom’s homemade black bean salad and roasted corn on the cob. It was a perfect meal for a leisurely summer night. Hopefully, the curse has been broken, and many more of our treasured magazines will be uncovered.