mangan enak coooooy

Monday, October 4, 2010

Potluck Parties: Meatless Monday Roasted Eggplant Sandwiches

EVENT: A Stormy Philharmonic in Central Park/Indoor Picnic
VENUE: Jackie's Apartment, Gramercy
PARTY SIZE: 10
TYPE: Cultural Parkside Picnic, Turned Coffee Table Buffet
MENU: Roasted Eggplant Sandwiches with White Bean Spread and Chive Pesto; Pesto Chicken Salad Sandwiches; Pomodoro Fresco Pasta Salad; Wine & Cheese
One of my favorite summer evenings since moving back to the city post-college is when the New York Philharmonic takes the stage in Central Park. Last year, I picnicked on the grass with Stephanie and all her friends—a birthday to remember, especially when the sky opened up during the orchestra’s last aria, and dumped rain on all of us innocent, umbrella-less concert goers.

This year I planned on being more prepared for m-nature, packing a storm jacket and situating our party’s blanket close to an exit path, as to avoid the inevitable stampede out of the park. But weather.com decided to give us a break this year. Or, rather, ruin our plans before we had a chance to break out our blankets all together.

I had some last minute recipe testing to do for the book (white bean dip), and a few other random ingredients (roasted eggplant) to get rid of before leaving for the Vineyard, so concert or no concert, I was determined to track down some friends and force them to eat my food.

Luckily, my friend Jackie offered to have a group of us over to her apartment to picnic around the coffee table and listen to her mom’s Yo-Yo Ma CD. It wasn’t quite the same, what without the fear of being cited for an open container violation, but it was a pleasant evening nonetheless under Jackie’s exposed beams, drinking wine out of Dixie cups, feasting on strangely conceived eggplant sandwiches, and sitting on the grassless ground.

From my kitchen, picnicking under a painted white sky, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Roasted Eggplant Sandwiches with White Bean Spread and Chive Pesto
Makes about 5-6 sandwiches

Ingredients

2 medium eggplant, quartered and cut into 1/4 inch slices
2 medium red onions, quartered and cut into 1/4 inch slices
1/4 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 lemon, juiced
2 tablespoons chives (optional)
1 loaf fresh sourdough or country white bread, cut into 1/2-inch slices (about 10)
1/2 cup chive or basil pesto
1 cup white bean spread (recipe follows)

Preheat the oven to 450°F.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the eggplant, onion, olive oil and salt. Toss until fully coated, and then turn out onto a parchment or foil-lined baking sheet. Shake the pan to make sure the vegetables lie flat and have the maximum possible surface area exposed.

Roast in the oven for 20 minutes. With a spatula, redistribute the vegetables so they brown on the opposite side, and return to the oven for another 10-20 minutes, until the vegetables are dark brown and caramelized.

Remove to a bowl and toss with the lemon juice and chives, if using. (Eggplant can be make up to 2 days in advance).

Lay 6 slices of bread on a work surface. Slather each with pesto, and divide the eggplant among the slices. Slather the remaining bread with the white bean spread, and top the sandwiches.

If traveling, wrap each individual sandwich in foil and take with you to your picnic.

White Bean Spread
Makes 2 cups
You can use the excess spread as a dip for crudites, or slather it on crusty bread and serve as a crostini.
Ingredients
One 15-ounce can cannelloni or white beans
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2 teaspoons fresh rosemary or thyme leaves (optional)
1 garlic clove
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt

In a small food processor or blender, puree the beans, lemon juice, herbs (if using), garlic, olive oil and salt. Add another tablespoon of olive oil if the mixture is still coarse, and puree until smooth.


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Friday, October 1, 2010

Baking For Others: Birthday Chocolate Torte

EVENT: French Bistro Birthday Buffet
TYPE: Celebrating 26 years of Cara
DISH: Gâteau au Chocolat Fondant (direct translation: really rich and delicious chocolate torte)

It’s Cara’s birthday today, everyone! (cue applause from our studio audience).

A few weeks ago, she faced the usual birthday dilemma: how do I get all my friends, and just my friends, into one room where everyone can drink and be merry, and possibly eat cake, and still talk to one another without going hoarse. Naturally, we added the controversial subject to our weekly meeting agenda, and discussed the possibilities over burgers at Freeman’s, where we’ve been temporarily holding office hours.

This year, Caitlyn and I neglected our usual birthday party routine at my apartment, and since it had been a while since my neighbors shook their fists in my face, I offered this model to Cara. She agreed that a big dinner was just the thing, so we decided on a bistro buffet menu, complete with ratatouille, crusty bread, and the beef stew Cara has been craving ever since the first 100 degree day in July. Since Cara and Alex were going to be unpacking down to the minute she had to put on her party dress, I happy obliged to take care of the cooking of this birthday feast. But there was no mention of baking, and no decision about the cake.

Cara sent me an email a few days later with the link to a chocolate cake recipe by Orangette, and asked if I had room in my freezer –the beauty of this cake was that she could make it in advance, pre-move. Last year, I had turned a blind eye and let Cara bake her own birthday cake, which is probably why the bad habit stuck. But this year, I wasn’t going to let that slide.

“You'll BAKE for me?” wrote my sweeter half, when I insisted. “That is love.”

And it is. But not because of this cake. Even for a non-baker such as myself, this round pan of chocolate goodness isn’t such a big deal. Now, a cake made out of actual oranges (or orangettes)? That might be the kind of cake I would make only out of love and, probably, only for Cara.

The Orangette has some history in our quarter-life cooking hearts. Over a year ago, when Cara was just a ripe 24, we snuck out of work early to meet with the first agent that had shown interest in turning our blog into a book. After an hour-long conversation, we left her office feeling giddy and excited about the future of BGSK. Right before we got in the elevator, Cara handed me a copy of Molly Weisberg’s book, A Homemade Life, with the inscription “Phoeb, here’s to BGSK. Love, your favorite blogger, C.”

A few months later, by Cara’s 25th birthday party, I had quit my job, and Cara had given notice at hers. Two weeks later, we had a book deal. And we’ve spent the better part of the year navigating our business, friendship, and sanity in an effort to write it. I think we came out on top on most counts, though perhaps the sanity part was more in question on my end.

It’s been quite a year. And it’s with incredible pride, gratitude, and humility that I bake this cake for my dear friend, who’s held my hand through all the book ups and downs and life craziness, and offered hours of therapy when the craziness was coming mainly from me. It’s a cake with a cracked top, and rich interior—imperfect and lop-sided as I am, but containing just as much love.

From my kitchen, wishing the lovely C a happy birthday, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Gâteau au Chocolat Fondant
Adapted from Orangette

7 ounces good quality dark chocolate
7 ounces unsalted butter (the nice French kind if you can afford it, such as Lurpak or Beurre d’Isigny), cut into ½-inch cubes
1 1/3 cup sugar
5 large eggs
1 tablespoon unbleached all-purpose flour

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees, and butter an 8-inch round cake pan. Line the base of the pan with parchment, and butter the parchment too.

Finely chop the chocolate and melt it gently with the butter in the microwave, stirring regularly until fully melted. Add the sugar to the chocolate-butter mixture, stirring well, and set aside to cool for a few moments. Then add the eggs one by one, stirring well after each addition. Add the flour and stir until incorporated.

Pour batter into the buttered cake pan and bake for approximately 25 minutes, or until the center of the cake looks set and the top is shiny and a bit crackly-looking. (You’ll know it’s done when it jiggles only slightly, if at all.) Let the cake cool in its pan on a rack for 10 minutes; then carefully turn the cake out of the pan and revert it, so that the crackly side is facing upward. Allow to cool completely. The cake will deflate slightly as it cools.

Serve in wedges at room temperature, dusted with confectioners sugar if you like, or topped with a dollop of whipped cream.
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Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Recipe Flash: Hot Fudge Sauce

BEST VEHICLES FOR HOT FUDGE: Matzoh Crunch Ice Cream; Pecan-Pumpkin Pie; Pound Cake; Coffee-Toffee Ice Cream Squares; Chocolate-Bottomed Blondies

In honor of my impending birthday, dessert week at BGSK plunges on! On today's menu: hot fudge sauce.

When I was a college student, I found my sanity in wax paper cups of ice cream with hot fudge sauce from Herrell's in Harvard Square. It was the kind of treat that was small enough not to seem overly unhealthy--my grandma eats ice cream with hot fudge sauce every day, and she's 93--but large enough to assuage any stress that exams, professors, or snow might contribute to my life. I ate ice cream all winter, all fall, and all spring.

So here I bring to you my recipe for hot fudge sauce, and perhaps the best-ever way to use it, atop a decadent brownie sundae (on a plate on which you may be able to make out the words Happy Birthday):

If hot fudge can be an everyday treat, a brownie sundae is a true extravagance, best left to times of celebration. Like Friday, my 26th birthday. Or tomorrow, moving day. I'm saying goodbye to 25 and to my closet kitchen, where I've cooked nearly everything I've posted on this blog. I'm saying hello to a beautiful, just-redone cooking space but a few blocks away, and I'm greeting another year--happy!

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Hot Fudge SauceMakes just under a cup

Ingredients

1/2 cup cream

3 tablespoons butter

pinch salt

1/3 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup white sugar

1/2 cup minus 1 tablespoon cocoa powder

2 tablespoons chopped chocolate

1/4 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 teaspoon espresso powder

Combine the cream and the butter in a small, heavy saucepan over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the butter is melted and the mixture has just come to a boil. Stir in the sugars and the pinch of salt and cook for another minute, letting the mixture barely simmer. You want the sugars to be dissolved, and you can test this by spooning a little bit onto a plate and then rubbing it in between your fingers to make sure it's smooth, not gritty.

Add the cocoa powder slowly, whisking as you go to stir out any lumps. The sauce should be uniformly smooth, thick, and dark.

Take the sauce off the heat. Add the chocolate, vanilla, and espresso powder. Let sit for about a minute, then whisk again until smooth.

Serve immediately, over ice cream or your dessert of choice.

Store in a wide-necked container in the fridge. It will solidify as it cools, so slowly reheat the jar in a bowl of hot water, or microwave in short bursts.

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Monday, September 27, 2010

Baking For Others: Budino

EVENT: Roomie Reunion
VENUE: Phoebe's Parents' Apartment, Upper West Side
PARTY SIZE: 2
TYPE: Casual Weeknight Dinner
MENU: Zucchini-Fennel Slaw; Tuna Burgers with Lemon Paprika Aioli; Preserved Lemon Budino

As you well know, I am not the baking half of our little quarter-life kitchen marriage. When Cara comes to dinner, I make her bring dessert. When she does not, the lack of a third course makes more room for wine. But sometimes a sweet comes along that's so extraordinary, I just can't resist testing my hand at it. That was certainly the case with this budino.

In honor of Cara's birthday on Friday, she's deemed this week All Sweets Week, so get prepared to be indulged. This budino is only the start.

On Christmas Eve, my friend Mike had a small group of us wayward Jews over to his apartment for a semi-traditional holiday dinner. I brought Potato Latkes to start, Mike roasted a giant leg of lamb, and Rebecca made two loaves of No-Knead Bread and six ramekins of budino, which she baked off right after we had finished plowing through the meat.

Budino is the Italian word for pudding. But really, Rebecca's version, borrowed from the Bon Appetit recipe below, was more akin to a light and airy, gooey yet moist cake. Though we were all deep into our holiday food comas by the point dessert came out, we all perked up with the first bite of budino and proceeded to inhale it.

Though it took me over six months to aquire the ramekins I needed to make the dish, my mind never stopped thinking about this budino. Caitlyn was the lucky recipient, and I used some of Cara's preserved lemons instead of the meyer that the recipe calls for to give it an extra somethin' something.

The whisk attachment of my imersion blender came in handy to beat the egg whites, but I've also just used my super muscular arm to whip them up in the past. If you don't have ramekins, I'd be curious to see how the budino fares in a small 8 x 8 inch baking dish. Perhaps this will be my next Baking For Others experiment next time Cara lets me use the oven.

From my kitchen, where budino is a reason to bake, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Preserved Lemon Budino
Adapted from Bon Appetit
Makes 2 servings

3 tablespoons sugar
1 egg, separated
1 1/2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon minced preserved lemon peel
1/4 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter two 3/4-cup ramekins. Combine 2 tablespoons sugar, egg yolks, flour, lemon juice, and preserved lemon peel in medium bowl and stir to combine. Whisk in the milk.

In a separate large mixing bowl, whisk the egg whites with a sprinkle of salt until frothy. Gradually add remaining 1 tablespoon sugar and beat until soft peaks form. Fold into the lemon mixture until just combined. Divide between the two ramekins, and place them in a baking dish with just enough water to reach half way up the ramekins. Bake for 30-35 minutes, until just beginning to become golden brown on the top.

Serve at room temp or warm.

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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Cooking For Others: Late-Summer Chicken Stew

CHANGE OF SEASON MENU: Eggplant Caponata with Balsamic Drizzle; Late-Summer Chicken Stew; White Rice; Fig and Walnut Cake

We all know that feeling, around May, when our appetites finally shrink after a long winter of craving mashed potatoes and stew. It's a refreshing feeling, like we no longer need to eat more than our share to be satisfied. For me, this year, that diminished appetite simply didn't last that long. When we set up a photo shoot, in July, that included Beef Stew, I found myself wanting to eat every last morsel of the hearty dish, in spite of the fact that it was sweltering outside.

Now that it's cooled down slightly, I imagine other people's appetites have caught up to my own. It's time, once again, for filling food. Hey, we're only two months away from Thanksgiving! Perhaps best of all, it's cool enough again that I can turn on my oven without cranking up the A/C--but that's a dessert story for next week.

Still, in spite of moving from salad to stew in my cravings, the world keeps giving me salad ingredients. Corn is still being harvested; beautiful tomatoes still crowd the tables at the farmers' markets. Though winter squash has joined summer squash in the crates, the summer squash is undoubtably still there. And the herbs remain plentiful.

So this dish, then, is a response to all of the above. Yes, it's kind of warm, and homey, and perfect for fall. And yes, it incorporates those last-of-summer ingredients that even those of us prone to craving mashed potatoes in July will miss dearly come October.

From my kitchen, picking a dish just perfect for the season, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Late Summer Chicken Stew

Serves 3-4


Ingredients
2.5 pounds chicken (I used 3 chicken drumsticks and 4 chicken thighs, all skin on)
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
freshly ground pepper
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
½ red onion, chopped
1 red pepper, diced
¼ small jalepeno pepper, minced
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
3 garlic cloves, peeled and left whole
Juice of half a lemon
¾ cups white wine
¾ cups chicken broth (or water)
¼ cup mixed fresh herbs—whatever the garden gives you. I used a combination of basil, lemon thyme, oregano, and chives.

1 1/2 cups white rice


Season the chicken pieces on both sides with about ¾ teaspoons salt and lots of pepper.


Over high heat, brown the chicken in the oil, in a large Dutch oven. Be sure not to crowd the pan—you’ll probably have to do this in two batches. Chicken pieces will take 3-6 minutes to brown. Remove to a plate.


Turn the heat to medium low and add the onions. Cook for about 3 minutes, until nearly translucent. Add the red pepper and the minced jalepenos and cook for another 2-3 minutes, until the peppers soften. Add the cherry tomatoes and cook just until they begin to break apart. Add the garlic cloves and the remaining salt. Squeeze the lemon over and mix to combine.


Arrange the chicken on top of the vegetables, and stir in the fresh herbs. Pour the white wine and chicken broth over everything; the chicken pieces should be nearly submerged.


Cook for about 1 hour, stirring occasionally. Towards the end, taste for salt. The chicken should be cooked through and even slightly falling apart.

Cook the rice according to package directions and keep warm while the stew finishes.

Serve over the rice, along with some bread if you like. Top each serving with more fresh herbs and drizzle with some basil oil if you have it.

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Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Recipe Flash: Grilled Salmon Sandwiches

HIGHBROW SANDWICHES: Roast Beef Baguettes with Cider Onion Jam and Fennel Remoulade; Tuna Burgers with Lemon Paprika Aioli; Lobster Salad on Toasted Brioche Rolls

There is a certain camp of foodies that doesn't believe that highbrow ingredients should be incorporated in such lowbrow ways as, say, ye old pedestrian sandwich. These are also the staunch purists who don't believe oysters should be fried, Kobe ground and slapped together in patty form, or caviar used as a common condiment for potato chips. Perhaps it's because Ina Garten introduced me to the last at age 12, but I've never been one of these people.

As a quarter-life cook, my concept of highbrow has expanded to include anything at the meat or fish counter above $10/pound. And in order to enjoy some of my favorite items on days when someone else isn't paying for them, I indeed turn to lowly, carbo-centric vehicles like the sandwich.


Grilling both the salmon and the bread (stove-top), adds a great smokey flavor to an otherwise straightforward fish sandwich. Serve it for lunch or dinner, so long as there are no haters at your table.

From my kitchen, albeit small, to yours,

Phoebe, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Grilled Salmon Sandwiches with Heirloom Tomatoes & Chive-Cashew Pesto
Makes 2-3 sandwiches

Ingredients

4 slices fresh sourdough or country white bread
1lb wild salmon fillets
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 heirloom tomatoes (assorted colors), cut into 1/2-inch slices
1/3 cup chive-cashew pesto (recipe follows)

Set a stove-top grill pan over high heat, or fire-up your outdoor grill.

Brush each piece of bread lightly with olive oil. Grill the slices one at a time until nicely crisped--about 1-2 minutes per side, rotating 90 degrees on each side to create a nice cross-hatch.


Remove any noticeable bones from the salmon. Slather the mustard on the flesh-side of the fillets, and season with salt and pepper. Grill the salmon, one fillet at a time, flesh-side down until opaque halfway up the sides, about 4 minutes. Flip the fish, and cook skin-side down until cooked to your desired doneness (medium-rare pictured).

Meanwhile, slather 2 slices of bread with mayonnaise. Divide the grilled salmon fillets between the two pieces. Arrange the tomato slices on top of the fish, slather with pesto, and top with the remaining grilled bread.

Serve immediately.

Chive-Cashew Pesto
Makes about 1 cup

1 garlic clove
1/4 cup roasted or toasted cashews
2 cups snipped chives
Juice of ½ a lemon (about 1 1/2 tablespoons)
¼ - ½ cup olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt

In a small food processor pulse the garlic and the nuts until finely chopped. Add the chives and lemon juice and blend until the herbs have begun to break down. Add the olive oil, and puree until the mixture is smooth and at your desired consistency, adding more oil as necessary to break down the nuts and herbs. Taste for seasoning. Add salt and extra lemon juice for acidity as needed.


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Monday, September 20, 2010

Cooking For Others: Barely Legal Egg Salad & Bacon Wraps

EVENT: Grizzly Bear at Governor's Island

WEATHER: Rain
PARTY SIZE: 2

TYPE: Stealth Picnic

MENU: Egg Salad, Arugula & Bacon Wraps; Mustardy String Beans with Pickled Shallots; British Biscuits

Whenever I go on vacation, my mom gives me a strict warning. "Be careful," she says. "Really." Her words may not be dissimilar from those of most parents', but her worries are more targeted. While out of town, I have a tendency to believe that rules are not for me. I cut in line, cross caution tape, and disobey every museum guard in sight, and I guess my mom hopes I won't wind up in a Moroccan prison.

Apparently a trip to Governor's Island was considered enough of a getaway for me to put away my law-abiding New York self and hand over the rule to my criminal side. Alex and I went, in August, to the performance of Grizzly Bear on Governor's Island. You have to take a ferry there, and since the concert started early, I decided to pack dinner. I figured it would be thriftier and more delicious than anything they might have at the concert--if they sold food there at all. But as we waited in line for the ferry to take us there, guards swarmed around us. "No food!" they shouted. "No drinks!" Ahead of us, I could see the bag searchers confiscating granola bars and jelly beans.

Alex looked at the paper shopping bag I was carrying, packed with egg salad wraps, and motioned to me to get out of line. "We can't bring those," he mouthed. I stood right where I was.

I didn't mean to be so delinquent. When I checked the website (in between checking the weather, which again and again confirmed rain), it said nothing about food. Nothing at all. And once I'd made my beautiful sandwiches, there was no way we were giving them up. Nor was I about to allow us to scarf them down outside the ferry terminal in the drizzle.

I shouldn't be announcing this publicly, but when it was my turn at the bag search, I simply put my messenger bag on the table. I didn't volunteer the dinner bag. Cool as a cucumber, I walked in between the gates onto the boat.

Once on, I too panicked. What if they kicked us out of the concert over a few little egg salad sandwiches? The whole ferry ride I clutched the bag of wraps to my chest. On shore, I continued to worry. It wasn't until we got down to the "beach," planted with lighted "palm trees" that we could blend in.

NYC's version of palm trees

Stands were selling food, people were drinking and eating, and no one would deduce that our picnic was a stealth one. Alex and I sat down in the shade of a palm, where the ground wasn't too wet, and we slowly enjoyed my labor of love, cooking, and law breaking.

From my kitchen, where there's no rule against eating, to yours,

Cara, THE QUARTER-LIFE COOK

**Recipe**

Egg Salad, Arugula & Bacon Wraps

Makes 4 wraps

This egg salad is awesome, and it makes great sandwiches even if you don't use the bacon.

Ingredients

6 hardboiled eggs
¼ cup mayo
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon tarragon
freshly ground pepper
2 stalks celery, very finely diced
2 tablespoons finely diced red onion
4 slices bacon
1 cup arugula
4 wraps

Cook the bacon using your favorite method. I like to fry it in a pan with the tiniest bit of olive oil over medium-high heat, flipping once, until it's crispy. Set aside on paper towels to drain.

Smash the eggs with a fork. Mix in the mayo, mustard, salt, tarragon, pepper, celery, and red onion, and stir well.



Warm the wraps slightly in the microwave, under a damp paper towel for about 30 seconds. Put a small handful of arugula in the center of each, and top it with one quarter of the egg salad. Top with a slice of bacon.

Wrap by folding in either end and rolling the wrap away from you. Pack in a container with the seam side of each wrap facing down.

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Posted by Phoebe and Cara, the Quarter-Life Cooks at 9:11 AM View Comments