This past weekend, reminiscing about a trip to Chicago turned into reminiscing about our favorite Thai restaurant, a hidden gem on the city’s north side where they actually made the food as spicy as I asked them to. Next time I may even be more cautious: The moo krawp (crispy pork belly) make me cough!

After mentally reliving the meal, appetite whetted to say the least, I marched straight to our local grocery store and bought the fixings for this simple stir-fry. 

When shopping for pork for this recipe, look for fat. The fattier the meat, the crispier and more succulent the pork pieces will get.

Thai Pork and Green Beans

• 1/2 pound thin pork chops
• 1/2 pound green beans
• sesame oil or olive oil
• fish sauce
• soy sauce
• 2 teaspoons fresh chopped basil
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon Thai red curry paste
• 1 cup uncooked jasmine rice, for serving. 

Cook 1 dry cup of rice according to package directions and set aside. If you’re like us, you’ve bought rice whose directions are written in Thai. 1-1/2 cups water per cup of rice is a good general rule for jasmine rice; put water and rice in a pot, bring to a boil, stir, reduce to low, cover and cook until done, about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and set aside, leaving it covered for at least 10 minutes before serving. 

Trim the pork chops into strips about 1/2 inch thick and about 1-1/2 inches long. Trim the green beans into 1 inch pieces. 

Heat a generous splash of oil in a heavy skillet or wok until nearly smoking. Add the pork and green beans and a splash of fish sauce and soy sauce (about 1 tablespoon of each). Turn constantly with a skillet until evenly cooked on the outside. Reduce heat to medium.

Add the basil, ginger, and red curry paste. Stir and taste. Adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve with rice. Serves 2. 

TIP: I love it when restaurants serve rice in neat domes. I made mine by pressing the rice gently into a 1-cup measuring cup with my fingers, and then overturning the rice onto each dinner plate.

You know what’s lamer than not blogging? Blogging about how guilty you feel for not blogging. Which is why I absolutely will not do that right now. 

What I will complain about (because honestly, there’s always something) is moving. I hope I never move again. Er, for awhile anyway. Nothing completely distracts you from your priorities like moving does, even if your priorities, like mine, involve successfully combining chocolate hazelnut spread and peanut butter. So these cookies didn’t happen until after the move, which is unfortunate, because they surely would have soothed some moving woes. 

While I was away, I was featured on the fabulous style blog Dresses For Dinner, curated by my friend Jessica and her friend Anna. Follow the links for an interview with me (and a sneak peak into my new kitchen)!

Peanut Butter and Nutella Thumbprint Cookies

• 1 1/2  cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened but not melted
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup smooth peanut butter
• 1/2 cup Nutella plus about 1/4 cup for icing
• 1 large egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Whisk or sift together the flour and baking soda and set aside. Put butter, both types of sugar and salt in a bowl and whisk to cream by hand, or with the use of a standing mixer if you have one available. Stir in the peanut butter, 1/2 cup of Nutella, egg, and vanilla extract. Cover the dough and freeze for at least 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 325ºF. Roll dough into balls approximately 1 inch in diameter and place them on a cookie sheet that you’ve either greased or lined with parchment paper. Use your hand to slightly flatten each ball so it’s about 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch tall. With your thumb, make a gentle indentation in the center of each cookie. Bake until golden brown, about 15-18 minutes. 

When the cookies are done, remove the cookie sheets from the oven and allow the cookies to cool completely. Using a small spoon, distribute the remaining 1/4 cut Nutella among the cookies by placing a small dollop in the indentation of the cooking and then swirling a bit for presentation. Makes about 3 dozen cookies. 

With moving day rapidly approaching, the stress of organizing my life into boxes paired with an onset of paranoia as I realize that I can’t quite remember what the new place looks like (why do I remember the exposed brick but not whether there is a hall closet?!) is quickly turning my excitement to anxiety. Long days at work roll into long nights of packing, and I’ve been squeezing in lonely dinners of beans and rice, eaten standing up, which is really, honestly no way to live.

What every stressed, tired, stretched-to-the-limit, about-to-move person really needs is a plate of carbonara. A big plate of carbonara. Because what I really needed was to stop shoving things into boxes like I was setting up a game of “One of These Things Is Not Like The Others” and sit down to enjoy a meal with Colin, and carbonara has the power to make me do just that. In my crazed state, I can’t seem to verbalize its allure. Just trust me and make it. (Bacon. Does that do it for you?)

When properly executed, carbonara should be a smooth, silky sauce. Other pastas will do, though I prefer a long noodle to a short one where carbonara is concerned. 

Linguine Carbonara with Bacon and Peas

• 4 slices bacon
• 3/4 pound dried linguine
• 4 egg yolks
• 1-1/4 cup grated pecorino
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• salt and pepper
• 2 cups frozen peas
• 2 teaspoons chopped chives

Place the bacon slices on a cookie sheet and baking for about 25 minutes or until crispy in a 375ºF oven.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Stir 1 cup of pecorino into egg yolks and season with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Cook linguine for 8-10 minutes, or until al dente. In the last 2 minutes of cooking, add the frozen peas. Reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water before draining pasta and peas and returning them to the pot.

Add butter to pasta and peas and stir until it is melted. Add egg yolk mixture and pasta water and toss until combined. Add bacon and chives.

Serve with remaining 1/4 cup of pecorino. Serves one ravenous, overworked couple (or four normal people). 

Optional: Garnish with squash or chive blossoms. Both are edible and pretty and may potentially help you forget that you ought to be working and not eating. 

Recipes are good. Recipes are your friend. A good recipe (one coming from a cookbook or a trustworthy website - beware sites that allow users to upload their own recipes) is tested, tried and true. The measurements should be, for the most part, precisely correct and should lead you to create a dish with balanced flavors. 

But sometimes, just sometimes, recipes make us overthink. We get caught up in teaspoons and ounces and forget to follow our instincts. Don’t have good kitchen instincts? Bummer. But there are some recipes, just some, that don’t really require it. 

Take pesto, quintessence of summer! A little backyard basil, cheese, olive oil, garlic and toasted nuts transform simple noodles into something so, so much better. None of pesto’s ingredients are unpleasant, so forget the recipe! Dare to err in favor of one ingredient and appreciate another facet of the pesto.

The measurements I’ll give are approximate - play with them! Be forewarned that your relationship with garlic may not be quite what mine is, so I suggest adding it one clove at a time and tasting before adding another. And yes, pine nuts are more traditional, though I love to use walnuts. Pecans were what I had on hand, and I found them to add wonderful complexity to my pesto, without the bitterness walnuts sometimes bring. 

I’ve been reading everywhere about freezing individual portions of pesto in an ice cube tray for easy reheating. Homemade convenience food? Yes, please! I love having pesto on hand but find the store-bought variety too acidic for my taste. I was surprised at the ease of reheating these perfectly portioned cubes, but be careful not to heat them too quickly, else you burn the cheese!

Basil and Pecan Pesto Ice Cubes

• 3 handfuls basil leaves
• 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves, peeled
• 1/2 cup grated pecorino romano (parmesan and asiago will also work)
• 1/2 cup pecans (or use pine nuts or walnuts)

To toast the nuts, place a small skillet over low heat. Add whole nuts to the pan and toss frequently to prevent burning. When the nuts are fragrant and lightly browned all over, remove from the heat.

In a small food processor, combine all ingredients and blend until smooth. Spoon into a clean ice cube tray and freeze overnight. 

To reheat, cook pasta according to instructions but remove from heat while still al dente. Warm an appropriately sized skillet over low heat and add one or two cubes per portion of pasta, depending on how large your cubes are and how much pesto you prefer. When cubes start to melt, add hot, drained pasta and stir constantly until cubes are melted. If you wish, top with grated cheese and fresh basil to serve. 

I am too headstrong and stubborn to be a practical home cook. When I want something, I want it. I wanted granola, for example. I couldn’t buy it for goodness’ sake. Too easy. So what if granola has to bake for hours and hours? Does it matter that it’s 90ºF and the apartment is itself a little oven? No. A little thing like summertime wasn’t going to stop me (and it didn’t stop me last year, either).

So I baked granola, and we all baked, too, in our hot little apartment (our wills have since broken and we’ve starting using the air conditioning). Nobody complained, though, because the apartment smelled like granola, which, if you’ve ever baked it, you know smells a little bit like presents and kisses and music and lots of other good things, too. 

I didn’t use a recipe (and after you bake granola a couple of times, you probably won’t either because it’s so simple), but my ingredients were inspired by the granola at a particularly fine breakfast establishment in my neighborhood. They serve theirs with Greek yogurt (the real, full-fat deal), honey, and fresh slices of banana and strawberry on top, which is heaven. I like it with milk, too.

The fruit can get a bit chewy and hard after being baked for such a long time. I kind of like this, but you may not. You can cope with this either by chopping your fruit into much tinier pieces, or by adding the fruit after the rest of the ingredients have been baked.

This recipe can be daunting because of the amount of time it takes to bake the granola, and it’s really, really important that the granola be totally dry, or it will taste stale after being stored. Fret not! I started my granola a few hours before bedtime and turned it each hour, then left it in a 200ºF oven overnight. When it was not dry the following morning, I reduced the temperature a bit and left it in the oven all day while I was at work. Don’t be afraid of a warm oven! The granola will not burn, I promise. 

Remember, granola is easy. The hardest part of this recipe is buying the ingredients. If you can stir, you can make granola. 

Granola with Cherries and Apricots

• 21 ounces old fashioned oats
• 2-3 ounces sliced almonds
• 6 ounces dried cherries
• 6 ounces dried apricots
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• 1 cup wheat bran (optional)
• 1 cup honey
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 1/2 cup coconut oil, melted

Preheat oven to 200ºF. In a large mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients. In a smaller bowl, whisk honey, butter and coconut oil. Pour wet ingredients over dry ingredients and stir until combined. You may find it easier to use your hands. 

Transfer granola to an 11” x 13” baking dish, or a roasting pan. Place in warm oven and cook for at least 8 hours, turning the granola occasionally with a spatula.

If, after 8 hours, the granola is not dry, reduce oven temperature to 180ºF and continue cooking until dry. It’s not as important to turn the granola at this point, but turning occasionally will help it to cook more evenly and quickly.

Here’s another post in which I rave about the ease of cooking seafood, and also complain about my complete ineptitude where aioli is concerned.

Firstly, a reiteration: Cooking seafood is easy. It is so easy that practically anyone can cook it. This is a very simple recipe - one of the simplest I’ve ever posted, probably - thanks to the removal of the intended condiment accompaniment.

Which brings me to my complaint: aioli. A seemingly simple, delicious garlic mayonnaise that can bring experienced home cooks to their knees. I seem to be able to make aoili perfectly only when its lucky stars align, but the rest of the time it’s a broken or runny mess.

So alas, the lemon aioli I’d envisioned for this dish became nothing more than a mass of dirty whisks and spatulas, several oily containers with coagulated bits of egg yolk, cups of inedible grease and dashed hopes. All this despite Colin’s noble effort to find a way to rescue my poor, lost aioli. He tapped away at my laptop at the kitchen table, doing aioli reconnaissance like some laptop-tapping reconnaissance-gathering person in spy movies where the whole operation is saved by their intelligence-gathering agility. 

Briefly put, I screwed up the aioli, Colin found several potentially rehabilitating methods, none of which worked, and then I threw a tantrum and banged things around in the kitchen for a little while before moving on with my life and, more importantly, dinner, for goodness’ sake. 

Ultimately, we decided that this tilapia was perfect just the way it was: moist on the inside, crunchy and well seasoned on the outside. I squeezed a bit of lemon juice on mine. Colin, who regards lemon as the invasive species of the culinary habitat, did not.

We ate ours with asparagus, boiled just until flexible but not limp. I can’t think of a seasonal, green vegetable accompaniment that wouldn’t do just as well.

Pan Fried Tilapia with Cornmeal and Parsley

• 2 tilapia fillets
• extra virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons cornmeal
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1 generous pinch coarsely ground sea salt
• black pepper
• 3 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
• lemon wedges for serving

Place tilapia on a plate or in a bowl and drizzle with olive oil.  Add minced parsley and turn to coat evenly. Set aside. Mix cornmeal, flour, sea salt and pepper. Lay each fillet in the cornmeal mixture, turning and patting to coat completely.

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat until the oil begins to smoke. Place tilapia in the pan and cook for 2-3 minutes on each side, or until the crust is golden brown and the fish is cooked through. Serve with lemon wedges. Serves 2.

Full disclosure: My dad was trained as a chef, so I’ve had a definite advantage in the learning to cook department. He’s my go-to resource when a dish doesn’t turn out correctly. But my mom, Anita, is also an exceptional cook, though she might not get as much recognition as Papa does. This past weekend I visited my parents for an evening and, in a total moment of “let’s just clean out the fridge and see what we can throw together for dinner,” Mama and I co-conceived a really, really delicious meal. And this is Mama’s strength - taking whatever we have on hand and making it not just edible, but delectable.

This is one of Mama’s signature dishes. I’ve eaten a dozen versions that she’s prepared (and prepared about that many versions myself). It’s easily adaptable to a crowd, so I’ve often prepared it when I’m cooking for a group of people. I’ve also, however, made it for just two people.

It hardly seems a fitting tribute to my mother to provide you with concrete instructions for making one of her favorite weeknight meals because she doesn’t often use a recipe, and she excels that way. I want to stress that the measurements and ingredients I’m providing you with are just those that I used to cook this dish on Sunday evening. They are flexible, and I encourage you to experiment, because penne all’Anita is more of a concept than a hard-and-fast recipe. It’s a rough blueprint of a meal easily adapted to fit many occasions and moods. At the end of this recipe, I’ll offer a few suggestions for possible substitutions that I’ve used in the past, and that you could use to make this dish better fit your taste, or just to better coincide with the contents of your fridge.

This particular rendition of penne all’Anita was especially exciting for me because I used Italian sausage produced locally and organically, which I bought at a farmer’s market. It tasted so unbelievably delicious and renewed my faith in the value of buying local and organic products from small, family-run farms. If you haven’t checked out your local farmer’s market, you need to! Local Harvest has a great search function to locate your nearest farmer’s market, if you don’t already know where it is or when it happens. Anita supports her local farmer’s market, and so should you!

I love you, Mama!

Penne all’Anita

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1 pound Italian sausage, casings removed
• 1 pound penne
• 1/2 cup pasta water
• 2 large tomatoes, seeded and thinly sliced
• 4 shallots, thinly sliced
• 2 large garlic cloves, minced
• 4 cups fresh spinach, coarsely chopped or torn
• 1 small handful fresh basil, coarsely chopped or torn
• 1 cup grated parmesan cheese (reserve half for sprinkling tableside)
• salt and pepper to taste

In a large skillet, melt butter and oil over medium heat. Add sausage and cook until it is brown, using a wooden spoon to break it apart. Meanwhile, cook penne according to package directions. When the pasta is cooled to your taste, set aside pasta water before draining.

When the sausage is brown, add the shallots and tomatoes. When the shallots are translucent, add the garlic and reduce heat to low. Cook just long enough for the garlic to soften and for its flavor to be released into the oil, but as always, do not let it brown!

Return drained pasta to pot. Add sausage mixture to pasta and stir to combine. Add the spinach and basil and stir as it wilts. Finally, add half the parmesan (the other half can be sprinkled for presentation) and the pasta water and stir until the cheese is evenly distributed. Serves 4. 

SUBSTITUTION SUGGESTIONS:

• Replace spinach with arugula or mixed baby greens.
• Replace large tomatoes with cherry tomatoes. Add them instead after the garlic and cook them without stirring until they burst.
• Use sweet or spicy Italian sausage, or chorizo if you’re feeling really adventurous.
• Replace the shallot with red or white onions (but use half as many since they’re much larger than shallots).
• Instead of parmesan cheese, try asiago or pecorino romano. 

I’m staring out the window at another wet and gloomy day as I write this, and I finally feel like the weather might be making me insane. Last Friday evening, Colin and I hosted a few friends for paella and wine on the patio, and I actually worried about us being too warm and wanting to escape to the air-conditioned interior. (Did you know they have air conditioning in Columbus? Yeah, me either! But it’s great.) This week, by contrast, I’m back to dreaming up heavy, warm, spicy dishes to stick to my bones (if ever there has been a May I’ve wished for anything, anything besides a sundress to stick to my bones, I certainly can’t remember it). 

Yesterday, for example, I spent the entire day fantasizing about a quiche. There was Mexican chorizo leftover from our paella, and my imagination ran wild once I let myself envision how delicious it would be, baked into a quiche with our favorite salsa jack cheese.

When it came time to conjure up my cheesy, peppery vision, I carefully baked a pâte brisée to make Julia Child proud popped ‘round the grocery an picked up a ready-made crust from the refrigerated section. Colin and I had been to sign the lease on our new apartment (we move in July!) and we were starving. I say, pick your battles. Of course, I’m a proponent of making your own crust. I usually do  - trust me, it’s easy!

The one problem I always have with quiches is one of proportion: There’s always too much egg (read: filler) and never enough stuff. I severely limited the cream in this recipe (I’ve seem quiche recipes that call for more than a cup of heavy cream!) and made a slightly wider crust, which made for a shallower quiche. Fact: We were calling it “quiche pizza” by the end of the night. Fact: It was more flavorful and texturally exciting than most quiches I’ve tried.

Chorizo Quiche

• 1 pie crust
• 3/4 pound Mexican chorizo
• 1 cup grates salsa jack cheese
• 1/4 red onion, very thinly sliced
• 5 eggs
• 3 tablespoons heavy cream
• salt and pepper to taste
• cilantro, for garnish

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Place medium skillet over medium heat. Squeeze the chorizo from its casings into the hot pan and brown, breaking up into large crumbles with a wooden spoon as it cooks. Remove the browned sausage to a plate.

Brush a pie pan with the chorizo fat. This will help crisp and flavor your crust. Lay the pie crust in the pan and pinch over the edges. Fill the crust with the chorizo, the cheese and the onion.

In a small bowl, whisk the eggs and cream. Pour into the pie pan, top with salt and freshly ground black pepper, and bake for 30 minutes, or until eggs are no longer jiggly. Serves 4.

I realize I’ve given this post a pretty long title for what is essentially my health-conscious, weeknight take on pasta e fagioli. Trust me, I like to take a traditional recipe and adapt the heck out of it, but the reality is that sometimes the result looks so little like the starting point and I can’t in good conscious call this recipe what it is not.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been suffering a terrible case of cabin fever. The rain well overstayed its welcome this spring, and I’d been getting bored with warm, spicy comfort food. You know, the kind you crave during a perpetual and cold drizzle. But the streets were dry as I drove home from work one night last week for the first time in, oh, as far back as I can remember, so I stopped at the grocery for a bottle of white wine with a fierce determination to cook some warm weather food to accompany it. 

I love pasta dishes that are enjoyable at room temperature. They’re convenient for summer potlucks and a cinch to prepare without having to worry about tossing the pasta while it’s still hot and plates warming in the oven and “Come to the table for goodness’ sake before it’s cold!” This dish was ready in the time it took to boil the pasta, and the boys (roommate Adam and boyfriend Colin) and I sat down and enjoyed it together (actually, Adam ate a vegan variation), along with my surprisingly impressive grocery wine pick. 

I’m thinking about making this simple pasta dish again soon, now that we seem to have traded cold and wet for hot and humid. I may even add peas to this dish to give it a bit more color. 

NOTE: Since this pasta is meant to be served cold, pay extra attention to your seasoning! Cold dishes almost always need more salt. Also, for a richer tuna flavor you could use tuna in a oil (instead of tuna in water, which I used).

Macaroni and Cannellini Beans with Tuna, Lemon and Parsley

• 1 pound whole wheat elbow macaroni
• juice of one large lemon
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 2-15.5 ounce cans cannellini beans
• 2-5 ounce cans tuna
• 1 cup freshly grates parmesan
• salt and pepper to taste

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and cook macaroni according to instructions on package. Don’t forget to salt your water generously (one to two tablespoons is sufficient). 

While the pasta is cooking, whisk together lemon juice, olive oil, and parsley with salt and pepper. When the pasta is done, drain and set the colander under cold tap water for a couple of minutes. This will chill the noodles and prevent sticking. Toss the pasta with the cannellinis, tuna, and parmesan (reserving some for sprinkling at the table). Adjust seasoning if necessary and serve. Serves 4. 

I’m picky when it comes to mashed potatoes. I like them decadently buttery, slightly coarsely mashed, and dirty (without any skins removed). Garlic and herbs are only afterthoughts and not really necessary if the potatoes are well prepared. 

My mom always made dirty mashed potatoes, she claims out of laziness (honestly, peeling potatoes is dull), but now I really miss the flavorful skin in the fluffy, almost-too-white-to-be-natural mashed potatoes I’ve been served elsewhere. Potato skins are tasty, and also full of fiber!

This may seem like a “duh” recipe, since there’s nothing fancy or complicated about making mashed potatoes, but I feel it’s important to make my official mashed potato stance clear: (1) Mashed potatoes are not difficult to make and therefore should not be reserved for Thanksgiving or other special occasions, and (2) leaving a bit of texture adds interest and flavor. 
I garnished my potatoes with a sprig of tarragon from the garden, even though I didn’t add any tarragon to the potatoes. You could add garlic (I like to roast mine and then mash it in with the butter) or chopped fresh or dried herbs, but the potatoes will be delicious on their own. Also, don’t be afraid to use older potatoes for mashing. Mine were getting soft and had eyes I needed to pick off, but they made excellent mashed potatoes and no one was the wiser.

Dirty Mashed Potatoes

• 1-1/2 pounds redskin potatoes
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1 cup half and half
• salt and pepper to taste

Bring a pot of salted water (deep enough to cover the potatoes by 1 inch) to a boil. Rinse and quarter the potatoes and drop into the boiling water. Reduce heat to simmer and cook uncovered for about 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender at the center. This may take more or less time depending on the size of your potatoes.

Drain the potatoes and return them to the stovetop in the pot over low heat. Add the butter and mash with a whisk or potato masher until the butter is melted and the potatoes are very coarsely mashed. Add the cream and continue mashing until the cream is warmed and the consistency is to your liking. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve. Serves 4.