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.

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. 

Peas have gone completely unrecognized by this blog, yet they’re one of my favorite legumes and one of the only green things I’ll buy frozen. In fact, I read recently in Bon Appétit that frozen peas are often just as good, if not better, than fresh ones, and now feel much more justified. (Frozen food = guilt, at least in Little Gourmande Land).

The greatest thing about a bag of frozen peas is the ease with which one can add freshness and color to just about anything - leftovers, canned soup, raman noodles, etc. My dad famously spruces up recipes with peas, and though we’ve teased him for adding them to just about everything he cooks, I admit he’s on to something. 

Frozen peas also make a tasty and quick side dish. Their sweetness and the mint in this recipe made for a nice contrast with a smoky leg of lamb this Easter, but this is a quick enough recipe to make any night of the week, as well as a good way to use up some of that mint you have running rampant in your garden (or, if you just planted mint this spring, the mint that is soon to be running rampant in your garden).

Minted Peas with Shallot

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 3/4 pound frozen peas
• 2 small shallots, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh mint
• salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter in a medium to large skillet with a lid over medium heat. Reduce heat to low and add shallot and frozen peas (no need to thaw first. Stir gently until the peas thaw, covering with a lid between stirs to help steam the peas. Once the peas have thawed, uncover and allow any liquid to cook off.

Add the mint and salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately. 

Ever since I traded my hectic, stressful, unpredictable job for one with a more regular schedule, I’ve been absolutely reveling in my new routine. I used to find routine boring, but oh, how wrong I was! How silly and naive. Routine is glorious; predictability is divine! 

Okay, so I may have taken my rediscovered love of routine a bit far by eating the same dishes again and again. Like, every night. I can’t help it! For the time being, I’m content that my life seems to be stuck on repeat, and that lately my tastes have settled firmly on spicy, vegetable-heavy Asian food. 

For the record, I like anything I can douse in sriracha, but lately I just can’t get enough Asian food, and I’m not very picky where country of origin is concerned. In the past two weeks Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Indian, and Thai - especially Thai - dishes have been born (and reborn) in my kitchen. A can of coconut milk and some Thai curry paste have become staples of my dinner diet, and on this base I’ve made a dozen or more versions of Thai curry, rotating vegetables and starches to prevent boredom (as if I could ever get bored). 

This is a pretty basic curry soup, a perfect weeknight meal that can be pulled together effortlessly. If you want to make it heartier, try adding sweet potatoes.

Tip: If you love Asian food like I do, you owe it to yourself to find an Asian grocery near you. I’ve explored a couple in our area and am really enjoying the spoils! You’ll save a fortune on ingredients that are both more authentic and cheaper than what you’re likely to find in the ethnic aisle of your supermarket. I found a veritable bucket of Thai red curry paste for only a dollar or so more than the wee baby jar I’d been buying previously. 

Thai Green Curry Soup

• 8 ounces bean thread noodles
• 2 tablespoons sesame oil
• 1 small onion, sliced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 green bell pepper, thinly sliced
• dried red chiles (optional, to add heat)
• 1 tablespoon tamari
• 1 cup snow peas
• 2 tablespoons Thai green curry paste
• 4 cups vegetable broth
• 1 can coconut milk
• ground black pepper, to taste
• 1 cup bean sprouts
• 1 cup picked cilantro leaves
• a few tablespoons chopped peanuts

Cook the noodles according to package directions and set aside. In a medium, heavy-bottomed pot, heat sesame oil. Add the curry paste and stir until it is combined with the oil. Add onion, garlic, bell pepper, chiles and tamari and sauté until the onion is soft and translucent. Add snow peas and vegetable broth and heat until broth simmers. Add the entire can of coconut milk and stir gently. Taste and add black pepper. 

Fill bowls with noodles and pour soup over top. Garnish with a pile of bean sprouts and cilantro, and sprinkle with peanuts. Serves 4 as a first course or 2 as a main course. 

This one feels a little bit like cheating. Sometimes I get myself all worked up over coming up with complex, 100% from scratch recipes because I want to punish myself impress you. I can’t tell you how often I have slaved, I tell you, slaved for hours over a  recipe that turned out to be very What? This Simple Thing That I Could Have Easily Bought At The Store In Less Time And For Less Money And That Would Have Probably Been Just As Good? Those days aren’t behind me, but I thought I’d turn the table a bit with a recipe that is much more What? This Complicated Seeming Thing? I Whipped This Up With My Eyes Closed.

Sometimes, you need a quick appetizer that’s sure to impress, or, as was the case for me last weekend, you feel like a little bit lot of butter and creamy cheese might just do you good. And, when either of these situations apply, what better than triple crème brie melting out of a flaky, buttery pastry shell? Especially when such a treat can be whipped up in, oh, absolutely no time at all?

I discovered ready-to-bake pie crusts and puff pastry while I was in France, of all places. (Allow me to break a myth: Even French cooks are pressed for time and, yes, occasionally cheat.) They’re an absolute cinch and have even rescued a few recipes when my own crusts have gone awry. (I recommend keeping one in the freezer for just such an occasion!)

You could experiment with different types of fruit preserves or compotes to use for the filling. I think apricot would be delicious but a really fruity, fresh-tasting homemade orange marmalade was what I had on hand (I canned several jars in the fall), and it worked pretty well, though maybe bitter for some people’s taste. I liked the almonds for texture but you could omit them if you like, or use sliced almonds rather than chopped if you’re really concerned with aesthetics.

Lastly, a note on cheese: Good cheese is expensive, but worth it. Buy a smaller piece of quality brie rather than a whole wheel of something mediocre if, like me, you’re on a budget. I used about an 8-ounce wedge of brie and it baked just fine, and was much, much more decadent and delicious than the store brand camembert. Splurge! This recipe is clearly not about restraint.

Baked Brie with Preserves and Almonds

• 6-12 ounces of quality brie (whole wheel or just a wedge)
• puff pastry
• 2 tablespoons chopped or sliced raw almonds
• 2 tablespoons jam, preserves or marmalade to compliment the cheese

Preheat oven to 350ºF. If your puff pastry is frozen, follow directions on the package to thaw it properly. When it is thawed, lay it flat on a baking sheet. Place the brie in the center without removing rind. Spoon jam on top of cheese and sprinkle with half of the almonds.

Carefully fold the dough over the cheese, making sure to pinch closed any openings where melted cheese might escape. Creating bulky folds of dough will leave it raw and should be avoided. Once the cheese is wrapped, sprinkle the package with remaining almonds.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until crust is flaky and golden. Allow to cool for a few minutes before serving with crackers or slices of fruit, such as pear or apple. 

I’m constantly lamenting the dearth of sweet recipes I post here. It misrepresents me! I love sweet things: love dreaming them up, baking them, decorating them, sharing them. The problem with maintaining a recipe blog is the amount of food one needs to consume (or give away to be consumed), and I just can’t keep up with ultra-sweet dessert posts. Fortunately, this will soon change as I will soon have a new kitchen hand and willing eater joining my household! 

In the meantime, I’ve cheated a bit by mixing work and play (nannying and blogging - you figure out which is which!). One of my charges is a very helpful, sweet-toothed preschooler who played kitchen assistant today as we mixed, poured, rolled and baked. 

There’s absolutely nothing I won’t eat (as far as I know), but I tend to shy away from super rich sweetness when picking treats. These cookies are much more my pace since the tart cranberries are a bit of a surprise. Plus, the combination of purple raisins, golden raisins and dried cranberries makes them such a pretty take on an otherwise basic cookie (and you know I absolutely cannot resist pretty things). 

My very picky helper even liked them!

Tri-Colored Oatmeal Raisin Cookies (adapted from I Shot The Chef)

• 2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 stick unsalted butter, softened slightly
• 1-1/2 cups packed light brown sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1-1/4 cups rolled oats
• 2/3 cup raisins
• 2/3 cup golden raisins
• 2/3 cup dried cranberries

In a bowl, sift together flour, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, cream the butter and the sugar. Stir in the eggs and the vanilla extract. Add the dry mixture to the wet mixture a little at a time. Stir in oats, then gently fold in raisins. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. In the meantime, preheat oven to 350ºF. 

Remove from refrigerator and set aside. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper and drop rounded spoonfuls of dough onto the trays. Bake for 13-18 minutes or until golden brown. 

Phew! I have finally managed to regain my bearings after a particularly tumultuous couple of months. I’m settled into my new job and my new apartment, which, by the way, abounds with delicious, creative food that I’m completely abashed not to have posted here. 

An important fixture in my new routine are evenings spent with Adam, my roommate, glued to a particular television drama, set in the 1960s. Oh sure, the show’s been all the rage for years. Just call us late to jump on the bandwagon (though we prefer “reverse trendsetters”), but we’re suddenly smitten with cocktails, especially martinis, and anything that tastes good with cocktails, preferably something that can be easily eaten from our respective corners of the couch as we ravenously consume another episode of our new favorite program. 

Adam’s hummus is a delicious, habanero-heavy recipe that I like too much to try to improve upon (as though that’s possible). This Asian take on hummus is my counter offer.

I will caution you that you must love sesame to love this dip. Ever wonder why edamame is usually so heavily salted? While the edamame lends a beautiful color to this recipe, it doesn’t really have much flavor of its own, and the sesame definitely takes the spotlight. If you love sesame oil like I do, I recommend using a darker, richer sesame oil. 

I made three different batches of edamame dip before I was satisfied and annoyingly made Adam pause our show as I hopped up to grab another half a lemon, and fretted about existential quandaries like “Salt or soy sauce?” In the end, I’m giving you the recipe I was most happy with, but I think improvements could still be made and I welcome your suggestions!

Sesame Edamame Dip

• 1 16-ounce bag frozen, shelled edamame
• 1/2 cup sesame oil
• 2 teaspoons wasabi
• juice of 1 lemon
• 2 tablespoons water
• 2 cloves of garlic
• salt to taste
• sesame seeds for garnish

In a food processor, combine edamame, sesame oil, wasabi, lemon juice, water and garlic. Blend 7-12 minutes, or until consistency is smooth. Add salt to taste (I used about 1 teaspoon) Serve with pita or raw vegetables and garnish with sesame seeds.

I’m back from my long blogging vacation with a recipe that’s as versatile as they come. 

My family starts every new year alike: with a hearty breakfast of mushrooms on toast. This savory breakfast holds a special place in our family arsenal of traditional recipes, partially because of its amazing ability to soak up New Year’s Eve champagne and ease hangover woes, and partially because it’s just plain good.

We found the recipe in an Australian cookbook years ago, and mushrooms on toast was the highlight of many a weeknight family dinner before assuming its place at that most pivotal of breakfasts on New Year’s Day. It made an equally balanced dinner as it did a breakfast, and since I now spend most days serving people breakfast instead of enjoying it myself, I impatiently held out ‘til dinnertime this New Year’s.

I stopped using the cookbook’s recipe for mushrooms on toast years ago, so I can’t remember how similar my recipe is to that of Bill Granger, its creator. The essence of the recipe hasn’t changed: garlicky toast smeared with cold ricotta cheese and topped with mushrooms cooked in balsamic vinegar and herbs. I recommend it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or even as an afternoon snack. It’s fun (and faster!) to make it with a partner, and much tastier when eaten in good company. That said, it’s an easy recipe to make for yourself, since you only have to make as many toasts as you think you will eat, and the mushroom topping is easily saved and reheated. I’ll leave you with a recipe that serves 2, but is easily multiplied as needed.

Mushrooms on Toast (adapted from Bill’s Food)

• thick-crusted sourdough bread with a large cross-section (the surface for the mushrooms), such as a boule
• a couple of whole garlic cloves
• extra virgin olive oil
• 1 shallot
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 16 ounces fresh mushrooms (You can use one variety or an assortment.)
• 2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
• 1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley
• 1/2 teaspoon dried herbes de Provence
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped lemon zest
• 1/2 cup ricotta

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Cut the sourdough into thick slices. Brush the top of each slice with extra-virgin olive oil and rub with a peeled garlic clove. Place the slices face up on a baking sheet and toast in the oven for 10-15 minutes, or until golden brown. 

2. Finely chop the shallot. In a medium skillet, sauté the shallot until lightly browned in the butter. Add the mushrooms, washed and thinly sliced, and stir occasionally over medium heat until they start to soften. Add the vinegar, cover, and cook for 5 minutes, or until the mushrooms are completely softened, still stirring occasionally. Remove the cover, add salt and pepper to taste, and allow most of the moisture to evaporate. Add the herbs and lemon zest and stir to combine. Remove from heat. 

3. Spread the ricotta onto the toasts and top with a generous spoonful of mushrooms. 

The past few days have found me marooned in my apartment with a fever, a hacking cough, a sore throat, swollen glands, itchy ears, and chills. (If you’re one of the people to whom I’ve lately mused about how an illness might afford me some much needed down time, rest assured that I’ve learned my lesson.) I don’t get sick very often and so when I do, I’m a real baby about it. Surprisingly, whining and whimpering in discomfort have done little to quell my symptoms. So a couple of days ago, in a moment of desperation, I mustered up the little strength I had and did the unthinkable: I made pancakes. 

Don’t get me wrong! I adore pancakes, but they fall into the sad food group composed of dishes that are too much of a bother to cook for one person. The mathematics involved in dividing a recipe by 6 or 8 is usually too much of a headache (especially on top of the sinus headache I’m already suffering), but I had fresh cranberries in the fridge that I really needed to do something with for goodness’ sake. And I needed pancakes. I kept it simple by dividing the recipe by 2 instead of, say, 4, and learned my lesson in the form of an admittedly-not-so-short stack. 

These pancakes are chock full of sour cranberries and I deluded myself into making them feel a bit healthier by substituting a bit of whole wheat flour and soy milk (you know, because I’m sick). Not wanting to ruin the fun, I doused them in maple syrup (real - it has to be real), which I first simmered on the stovetopwith leftover cranberries. I even topped them with butter because, even though the pancakes really didn’t need it, I find that when I’m sick it’s really much better just to indulge myself. 

Of course, you could use real milk and all white flour, or a higher percentage of whole wheat flour. As you can see, mine were admittedly not so whole wheaty, and I was pleasantly surprised since I mainly included the wheat flour for posterity’s sake (and because I have a canister of locally milled whole wheat flour that I never use, and on this particular day, where my head was clearly muddled by massive amounts of congestion, I worried that it felt ignored). Also, if you don’t have a griddle and can cook several pancakes at the same time, I suggest putting a plate in a warm oven and putting your finished pancakes there until a bit of aluminum foil to keep them warm and moist. No one likes cold pancakes!

Cranberry Pancakes (adapted from Too Many Chefs; serves 1 very self-indulgent sick girl)

• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup whole wheat flour
• 1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• pinch salt
• 1 egg
• 1 cup soy milk
• 1 cup fresh cranberries
• butter for skillet

1. Mix the flours, baking powder, and half of the sugar in a medium mixing bowl. In a smaller bowl, whisk together the egg and the soy milk. Add the wet mixture to the dry mixture, whisking until just combined with no lumps. Rinse the cranberries. In a third bowl, combine the remaining sugar with the cranberries and set aside.

2. Heat a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add a tiny bit of butter to the skillet (I always add too much and my first pancake ends up looking more like a funnel cake) and allow it to melt, swirling it around the skillet to coat the entire bottom.

3. Drop the batter into the skillet 1/4 cup at a time. After the batter has spread out a bit, drop several cranberries into each pancake. Allow to cook until bubbles form in the center of the pancake and the bottom is golden brown, then flip and cook until the other side is similarly golden brown (the second side will cook faster than the first). Move to a warm oven until your batter is gone.