I get a little dizzy thinking back to how good these simple little toasts were. I mean, they’re just cheese on cheese on sauce on toast, but they are much, much more. They’re heavenly. I first had these at the Chef’s Academy cooking demo . I liked them so much, I had to recreate a version of my own.

Chefs Leo Goodloe and Suzanne Winn made a killer sauce from scratch, and I went with some from a jar, but it didn’t matter. The goat cheese and taleggio really make this. I mean, seriously, how amazing is cheese?

These toasts are a great appetizer for a party or a delicious snack for yourself.

Tomato Crostini with Goat Cheese and Taleggio
Adapted from Suzanne Winn

• baguette cut into 1/4-inch slices
• tomato sauce (use your favorite one, or see Suzanne’s recipe here)
• goat cheese
• olive oil
• sliced taleggio or fontina cheese

Heat oven to 375. Place baguette slices on a baking sheet and bake until lightly toasted, 8 to 10 minutes.

In a bowl, combine goat cheese and olive oil. Top each crostini slice with a dollop of tomato sauce and goat cheese.

Finish with a slice of taleggio or fontina. Place under broiler until cheese melts. (Or use a kitchen torch if you’re fancy.)

I love Indian food, but sometimes those curries can be heavy. This dish, on the other hand, is more brothy than saucy, and still has that flavor I love. It has tomatoes, spinach and chicken breast, but it would be good with garbanzo beans instead, if you wanted to make it vegetarian.

I saw this in Sunset Magazine, which has been full of good recipes lately (See: Ginger Pear Crisp). My mom and I loved how light it felt while still filling us up.

Of course we changed it up a bit. Instead of serving with plain yogurt on top and cucumber salad on the side, I combined the two in a raita. I liked the cool crunch of cucumbers mixed in with the cooked vegetables. It’s all about layering flavors, textures and temperatures.

North Indian Style Spinach Chicken
Adapted from Sunset Magazine

• 3 tablespoons canola oil
• 1/2 teaspoon fenugreek seeds
• 2 teaspoons coriander seeds (or pre-ground)
• 2 teaspoons cumin seeds (or pre-ground)
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne, or more to taste
• kosher salt, to taste
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 8 ounces cremini or button mushrooms, quartered (we didn’t have mushrooms so we left them out)
• 2-in. piece fresh ginger
• 4 large garlic cloves
• 1 1/2 pounds boned, skinned chicken thighs, cut into 1-in. chunks (or use garbanzo beans for a vegetarian meal)
• 1 cup diced canned tomatoes
• 1 pound baby spinach
• 1/2 bunch cilantro
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• basmati rice for serving

In a small saute pan (or the large stock pot you’ll be using next) toast fenugreek, cumin and coriander seeds over medium heat, swirling around so they don’t burn. After a minute or two, when the seeds start to pop or become fragrant, transfer to a mortar or spice grinder. Grind spices, then stir in turmeric, and cayenne.

In a large stock pot, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onions, spice mixture, and some salt. As onion start to sweat, add mushrooms. Cook, stirring often, until lightly browned, 5 to 7 minutes. Meanwhile, mince ginger and garlic.

Add ginger and garlic. Sizzle a few seconds. Add chicken and a little more salt, at your discretion. Cook, stirring often, 3 minutes, or until no longer pink on the outside. Add tomatoes and simmer, covered, about 8 minutes.

Stir in spinach and simmer, covered, until wilted, about 3 minutes. Meanwhile, chop half a bunch or a large handful of cilantro. Stir into pot, along with lemon juice.

Serve with cooked rice and cucumber raita.

Cucumber Raita

I’ve made this raita before with grated cucumbers, but here I wanted them in larger pieces for crunch.

• 1 large English cucumber (Peel if using a big waxy one. Seeding is a good idea too, but not necessary, especially if you eat it right away)
• 1 cup plain yogurt
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 inch fresh ginger, grated
• small handful of fresh cilantro, chopped
• juice from half a lemon
• salt and white pepper to taste

Cut cucumber in chunks. Add to a bowl along with all other ingredients. Keep chilled, then serve on top or to the side of Indian dishes, like the chicken one above.

For whatever reason, my brother has been bringing home absurd amounts of fruit from his school cafeteria. One day we found ourselves with way more pears than we could eat before they went bad. Conveniently, an issue of Sunset Magazine came with a recipe for a unique pear crisp courtesy of Campanile chef Mark Peel. Ginger, raisins, marsala? I was intrigued.

Of course when I went to make it, I ended up with several substitutions (you’ll see my many parenthetical notes in the recipe below). But I was happy with the crisp. Maybe a little sweet, but that could have been the fault of my changes and inexact measurements. Anyway, it was nothing a small scoop of tart yogurt couldn’t fix.

Pear Ginger Crisp
Recipe adapted from Mark Peel and Martha Rose Shulman in Sunset Magazine

Streusel

• 2/3 cup flour
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup oats
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small chunks (I used salted butter and just didn’t add salt)

Pears

• 2 1/2 pounds firm-ripe Bartlett pears
• Juice of 1 lemon (We didn’t have a lemon, so I used lime and pineapple juice. That equals lemon, right?)
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup sweet marsala (I used white wine because that’s what we had open)
• 1/4 cup chopped crystallized ginger (I grated some fresh ginger into the cooked sugar mixture)
• 1/3 cup golden raisins (I used dark raisins)
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter (I used salted butter and just didn’t add salt)

To make the streusel, preheat oven to 350. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment.

In a bowl, stir together dry ingredients. Add butter; mix on low speed until crumbly. Spread across the pan. Bake until golden at the edges, 8 to 10 minutes. Stir. Bake 3 to 5 minutes longer, until golden all over.

Let streusel cool. Increase oven to 375.

Peel and core pears. Cut into 1-inch chunks and mix gently in a large bowl with lemon juice. Butter a shallow 2-quart baking dish and set aside. (I used a casserole bowl.)

Put a 3- to 4-quart pan on the stove over medium-high heat. Add sugar and 2 tablespoons of water. Stir and cook until sugar begins to brown, 4 to 7 minutes. Swirling pan occasionally, boil until sugar is golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes longer.

Remove from heat, let cool about 30 seconds, then gently stir in pears. Return pan to heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until sugar melts again, 2 to 3 minutes.

Add wine, ginger, raisins, vanilla and salt. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until pears are just tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer pears to buttered dish.

Stir in butter and cook until melted. Spoon mixture over pears.

Scatter streusel over pears, then bake until fruit is bubbling, 15 to 20 minutes. Let cool about 10 minutes. Serve warm, with vanilla ice cream, tart frozen yogurt, creme fraîche, Greek yogurt or crema.

Make ahead, then reheat in a 350° oven until warm, about 20 minutes.

Several weeks ago (just before I got a job and still had time to do these sorts of things on a Tuesday afternoon, let alone write about them in a timely fashion), I went to a cooking demonstration by two stars of Bravo’s Chef Academy: Suzanne Winn and Leo Goodloe.

I meant to watch an episode or two before the demo, and ended up watching the whole series in three days or so. It’s easy to become addicted to any reality show, but when the people you’re watching are likable and deserving of the spotlight (Jersey Shore crew, I’m not talking about you), you don’t even feel guilty about it.

Leo was focused and professional throughout the show. He rarely had anything bad to say about anyone, and though he was always at the head of the class, he wasn’t cocky. Suzanne, love her, has a Real Housewives of Orange County look (because she’s a mother in the real OC), but the woman didn’t go that route. Instead, she enrolled in an intensive culinary program and subjected herself to some rigorous kitchen work. Ok, yeah, she got in trouble for wearing too much lip gloss and for meeting with a tailor in the middle of a lesson…but how much of that is orchestrated by producers anyway? She didn’t seem like a ditz to me. She seemed smart and funny and incredibly charismatic. I really wanted this woman to do well.

And you know what? Leo and Suzanne made an even better impression in person. After the demo, I waited to talk to Suzanne, who was talking to a group of women already. “Come join the circle, sweetie,” she said, motioning me over. Then she hugged me and thanked me for coming. Leo was equally gracious and easy to talk to. Both were so encouraging and forthcoming with stories and advice for me.

The food didn’t disappoint, either. Dark chocolate pots de cremes with rock-your-socks butterscotch sauce and vanilla bean whipped cream. French bread slices layered with goat cheese, freshly made tomato sauce and melted fontina. Either of which I could die happy after. (Some recipes from the demo are here.)

My point is, I don’t want this to be the last I see of Leo or Suzanne. Give them a book, a TV show, a catering/party-planning company…I’d support any of it.

You can find Chef Academy reruns on Bravo, iTunes or here. Check out Suzanne’s Meals in Heels demonstrations on YouTube.

And watch my favorite clip of Suzanne on Chef Academy here at the 6:08 mark.

A “He Cooks” post from my friend Mike, who goes a little more traditional after sharing his Fried Beer-Battered Pickles and Five Spice Squash Soup recipes.

This is one of my absolute favorite winter meals. The hot chicken and root-vegetable filling is hearty and warming on a snowy day. There are two ways to make this pot pie:  from scratch, or with store bought stock, pie crust, and a rotisserie chicken. The latter is certainly faster and easier, but the former tastes better, and leaves you with a few quarts of homemade chicken stock for the freezer.

I made this one from scratch, and it has been a hit every time I’ve served it.  Everyone is always amazed that there aren’t any herbs or spices besides the salt and pepper. I think that’s the homemade stock, chicken fat, and rich root vegetables coming through.

If you want to make this from scratch I would recommend either starting early in the day or preparing the filling a day or two ahead and keeping it in the fridge until ready to bake.

Homemade Chicken Pot Pie

For the roast chicken

• 1 Whole chicken, cut into parts, back, neck, and wing tips reserved
• Olive oil
• Salt

Preheat oven to 375.  Cut the breast in half, then into quarters.  Separate the legs from the thighs. Pat the chicken pieces dry, rub with about two teaspoons of olive oil, and sprinkle with salt.

Place on a roasting pan, along with any large pieces of fat from the chicken.  Bake at 375 for about 40 minutes or until the chicken registers 165 on an instant-read thermometer.  Remove chicken from the pan onto a plate to cool.  Drain, strain, and reserve the fat from the pan.

Once the chicken is cool enough to handle, remove the skin, pull the meat from the bones, and cut the meat into ¾ inch pieces.  Place the chicken meat in the freezer.  The skin can be returned to the hot oven for 10-15 minutes to make chicken cracklins, a nice snack for the cook (cooking is hungry work).

For the stock

• Back, neck, and wing tips of the chicken
• 2 cloves garlic, roughly smashed
• 2 fresh or 3 dried bay leaves
• 10 whole peppercorns
• 1 onion, cut in half
• 1 carrot, cut in half
• The top 2 inches and leaves from one bunch of celery
• Bones and cartilage from a roast chicken

About 3 hours before the stock is needed, place all the ingredients except for the bones into a large stock pot, along with a gallon of cold water. Bring to a boil, skim the foam, and reduce to a simmer.

After the chicken is done roasting, add the bones and cartilage to the simmering stock, along with more water if a lot has boiled off.  After about three hours of simmering, strain the stock through a colander lined with cheese cloth.

For the filling

• 4 tablespoons reserved chicken fat
• 1 teaspoon salt, or more, to taste
• 3 leeks, cut into 1/4 inch dice and rinsed very well
• 3 cloves garlic, minced or pressed through a garlic press
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 4-6 cups chicken stock
• 3/4 lb waxy potatoes, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
• 3/4 lb carrots, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
• 3/4 lb parsnips, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup heavy cream

Any of the root vegetables can be substituted for whatever you prefer.  Celery root or turnips would be nice in place of the potatoes. I always try to include parsnips for their intense, earthy sweetness, and carrots, for their color, but this is up to you.

Add the chicken fat to a large dutch oven.  When hot, add the leeks, salt, and pepper to taste.  Sauté until soft, about 3 minutes.

Add the garlic and flour until and stir until the garlic is fragrant and flour smooth and beginning to cook, about 1 minute – 90 seconds.  Add the white wine and stir until smooth.

Add 4 cups chicken stock, and the root vegetables (but not the peas).

Simmer until sauce is thickened and vegetables are mostly cooked through, about 10-15 minutes. You do not want to fully cook the vegetables until they are completely tender, as they will continue to cook in the oven. Add more stock if the sauce seems too thick or there is not enough.  It should have the consistency of a thick stew or gravy. I ended up using about 4 ½ -5 cups.

Once the vegetables are near done, remove from heat.  Add the frozen chicken and stir.  Add the frozen peas and stir.  Add cream and stir. You want to cool down the filling as much as possible so the fat in the crust does not melt until it begins to crisp.  Pour into a 9 x 13 baking dish, making sure there is at least 3/4 inch between the top of the filling and the lip of the pan.  The entire pie can be prepared up to this point and refrigerated up to two days, or until ready to bake.

For the crust
I have made this with a variety of crusts:  herbed biscuits, light, crispy herbed pie crust, or my great-aunt’s recipe for a quick and easy pie crust, as I did here.  They have all turned out great.

• 2 1/4 cups all purpose flour, sifted
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup cold water
• 3/4 cup shortening or lard (I used shortening, as we didn’t have any lard on hand)

Mix the sifted flour and salt.  Remove 1/3 cup of flour mixture, and mix with the water to make a paste.  Cut the shortening into the flour until it is in pea size pieces.  Use your hands to mix the paste and shortening mixtures into smooth dough.  Roll out into a rectangle to cover the 9 x 13 pan. (I used two smaller casseroles instead of the 9 x 13)

To finish the pot pie

Preheat oven to 400.  Lay pie crust on top, pressing against the sides of the pan.  Cut a few slits into the crust to allow steam to escape.  Make a flower or something cute with any extra crust to put on top, or don’t.  I rolled it into rough edged shapes and arranged them on top with their sides overlapping and a few holes for steam to escape. This made for lots of crispy edges.

Bake until crust is golden, 35-40 minutes.  If your pan is really full, place a foil-lined baking sheet underneath to catch any sauce that drips out. Remove from the oven, allow to cool for five minutes, and serve.  I usually serve this on its own, or with some bread to mop any sauce. It is definitely a complete meal in a dish.

Have you ever had something disappear into the abyss of the internet? That’s what happened to this Moroccan bread recipe.

You’d think I’d be less likely to find a recipe on paper…especially since I’m known to scrawl information on magazine inserts or any scrap I can find…but there it was: the bare bones directions for Moroccan bread, unlabeled and in between notes from an interview I conducted and a page of rhymes (knead, read, seed, feed, proceed, decreed, agreed, ID’d, IV’d…vibe, bribe, subscribe, diatribe…).

So that’s a little insight into who I am.

This bread, to get back to the point, is meant to be served with tagines or other saucy dishes so you can use it for mopping up all that flavor. I wish I had some tonight. My mom has some Moroccan chicken simmering away right now.

Alas, bread takes a little more forethought. You can think about making it with Saffron Chicken Tagine with Prunes, Tunisian Lamb Stew or Spice-Rubbed Roast Chicken.

Moroccan Bread

I’ve lost the link where I found this. The following recipe is in my words.

• 3 teaspoons yeast
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons warm water
• 3 1/2 cups flour (but have 1 1/2 cups around if the dough needs more and so you can flour the surface you’re kneading on)
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup milk (plus about 1/4 cup for brushing on later)
• 1/4 cup water
• about 1/4 cup cornmeal for the baking sheet (optional)
• about 2 tablespoons of sesame seeds (you could also do cumin

Mix yeast, sugar and warm water together in a small bowl. Let sit while yeast gets to work.

In a larger bowl, mix flour, salt, milk and water. When yeast mixture is bubbling and fragrant, add it to the flour mixture. Mix then cover with a damp cloth and allow to rise in a warm spot of the kitchen, about an hour or until dough has doubled in size.

On a floured surface, knead dough 7-10 minutes. Add more flour if it seems too sticky. Divide into three balls and flatten them a bit.

Put the disks on a baking sheet (you’ll probably need two) that has been dusted with cornmeal or flour. Brush loaves with milk, then sprinkle with sesame seeds and a little bit of kosher salt. Rest in a warm place for 1 hour.

Bake at 425 about 20 minutes or until loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when you tap them. (If you have two baking sheets, you probably want to rotate them halfway through.)

Serve warm and use to mop up sauces from tagines and other dishes. It’s really only good for a day. But as long as you have some sauce or soup, you can reheat it and it should be ok the next day for lunch.

A “He Cooks” post from my friend Mike, who introduced himself last week with Fried Beer-Battered Pickles.

After seeing Brittany’s squash soup post, I decided to make one myself. I thought the distinctive flavor of five spice would go great with the sweetness of the squash. (Five spice is a Chinese blend of star anise, cloves, cinnamon, Szechwan pepper and ground fennel seeds.) The five spice was wonderful with the squash, but the soup was a little sweet. I’ll definitely skip the roasting to cut down on the sweetness next time I make it. (The recipe below takes that into account.)

Unfortunately, I’m not much of a photographer, and was in a bit of a hurry to get this one on the table, so the picture doesn’t really do it justice. I also made some spicy shrimp to go on top, but the spoonful of crème fraiche, fresh chives, and pickled ginger I had on the leftovers complemented the flavors of the soup much better.


Five Spice Squash Soup

I don’t usually follow recipes, but I’ll try to estimate about how much of everything I put in.

• 2 Tablespoons butter
• 1 Tablespoon minced ginger
• 1 Tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 leek, thinly sliced and washed
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 1 carrot, diced
• 1 butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cubed
• 1 acorn squash, peeled, seeded, and cubed
• 1 teaspoon five spice powder
• pinch cayenne pepper
• 1 quart of chicken stock, more if needed
• 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• whipped crème fraiche, pickled ginger, and fresh chives for garnish (optional)

Sauté the leek, onion, carrot and a pinch of salt until softened. Add the ginger, garlic, cayenne, and five spice and sauté until fragrant, 30 seconds to a minute.

Add the stock and squash and simmer until tender.

Puree, in batches if necessary, and add more hot stock or water to reach a creamy consistency.

Stir in the lemon juice off the heat.

Top with a dollop of whipped crème fraiche, fresh chives, and thinly sliced pickled ginger for garnish.

People always seem to come up with a reason why they think they wouldn’t like this tart. I don’t like pecans. Dulce de leche is too sweet. Cranberries aren’t my thing. But somehow, everything comes together in a way that just works. The cranberries and dulce de leche balance each other out, and the whole thing is so delicious the pecans probably won’t even bother you…unless you’re prone to anaphylactic shock upon contact with them.

Anyway, this is a dessert I’ve made several times since I saw cranberry caramel almond tartelettes on Smitten Kitchen years ago. I go to Argentina often so I always think of dulce de leche instead of caramel. And since my sister is allergic to almonds, I’ve started to use pecans instead. I also make one big tart instead of several smaller ones like Deb did.

What is amazing about this recipe besides the trifecta of nuts, cranberries and dulce de leche is the rich crust that tastes like a shortbread cookie. The dough comes from chef/owner of City Bakery, Mary Rubin, and it’s…divine is the word that comes to mind, even though I’m not the type of person who normally says divine.

But this tart is, whether you follow the original City Bakery recipe or try my version. I’d say Valentine’s Day would be a prime time to get one in the oven. It makes a nice holiday tart — I made it for Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve — but, hey, any day ending in Y is occasion enough.

Cranberry Pecan and Dulce de Leche Tart

Adapted from City Bakery’s Cranberry Caramel Almond Tart recipe

Dough

• 13 tablespoons (1 stick plus 5 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1/3 cup powdered sugar
• 1 egg yolk
• 1 1/2 cups unbleached flour
• 1 tablespoon heavy cream

Preheat oven to 350. Let the butter soften to room temperature.

In a standing mixer with paddle attachment or food processor with the dough blade attached, add powdered sugar and the pieces of butter. (Of course this can be done by hand with some extra effort.) Toss to coat, then combine the sugar and butter at medium speed, until the sugar is no longer visible.

Add the egg yolk and combine.

Scrape the butter off the sides of the bowl. Add half of the flour, then begin mixing again until the dough is crumbly. Add the remaining flour and then the cream and mix until the dough forms a somewhat sticky mass.

Flatten the dough into a thick pancake, wrap it in plastic and refrigerate at least 2 hours before preparing to roll out the dough.

Lightly butter a 9-inch pastry ring or fluted tart pan and place it on a baking sheet.

When the dough is chilled, sprinkle your work surface with a thin layer of flour. Divide dough into 16 equal pieces then knead together and reform a flattened ball. (I seem to have forgotten about this step until I looked at the recipe just now. Skipping it might be the reason my dough never rolls out nice and pretty.)

Flour a rolling pin and roll out the dough into a circle large enough to cover the tart pan.

Transfer the dough into the ring or tart pan by rolling about a third of it around your rolling pin, lifting it and placing it into the ring. Gently pat the dough onto the bottom and up the sides of the ring. (I always have some trouble with this, so I usually end up pressing the dough evenly across the bottom and sides.) Prick the dough all over with a fork. Trim the edges so that they are even with the top. Put the pan into the freezer for one hour.

Then bake 15 to 20 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from the oven and let cool to room temperature before filling.

Filling

• 1 3/4 cups frozen cranberries (buy fresh cranberries then freeze them so they don’t turn to total mush when you put them in the oven)
• 2 cups pecans (almonds, walnuts, macadamia nuts or cashews would work. I’ve done pecans and almonds each twice)
• 4 – 6 oz. dulce de leche, at room temperature (I’ve never measured, just scooped out about half a jar of dulce de leche, enough to coat the cranberries and nuts)

In a medium bowl, evenly mix cranberries, nuts and dulce de leche with a silicone spatula. Scrape mixture into slightly cooled tart dough. Even it out, then bake for about 20-25 minutes still at 350. Cranberries and dulce de leche should be bubbling slowly around the edges.

Allow to cool before serving. (My crust is always crumbly so I leave it in the tart ring.) The tart is great cold as well. Keeps several days in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

(This is my friend Mike’s first post on He Cooks, She Cooks. Let him know how much you enjoyed it.)

Fried pickles are one of my favorite deep fried foods. They’re kind of a mess, but pretty easy to make. They’re crispy on the outside, a little soft on the inside, and have a nice, mild pickle flavor. And they go great with a good pale ale or bitter brew. They are great plain, or with a spicy dipping sauce.

Fried Beer-Battered Pickles

• 6 or more large pickles
• beer batter (see below)

First, I very thinly slice some pickles. I used around six whole pickles, but had plenty of batter left over, so feel free to cut more. (Or make onion rings, too.)  I cut the pickles a bit thinner than 1/16 of inch. Having a mandolin here would be great, but I don’t, so I just used a sharp knife.

After slicing, I laid them on a kitchen towel and pressed with another to dry them out as best I could.  Then I tossed them into a bowl filled with my favorite beer batter. Tempura is excellent on these as well.

When my oil was hot, I took a handful of pickles, shook off the excess batter, and carefully dropped them into the hot oil.  I tried to avoid big clumps of pickles, but there were a few stuck together, which was fine.

I fried the pickles in multiple batches for a few minutes until golden, while stirring occasionally to keep them from clumping.

Transfer them from the oil to some paper towels to absorb the excess oil. Serve with hot sauce for dipping or plain with maybe some extra salt.

Beer Batter

Adapted from Hubert Keller (He uses it for onion rings here. The addition of cream of tartar stabilizes and increases the volume of the whisked egg whites.)

• 1 ½ cups flour
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon pepper
• pinch cayenne pepper
• 1 12 oz bottled of a pale or amber beer
• 2 eggs, separated
• 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

Whisk together the flour, paprika, salt, and pepper.

Whisk the egg yolks with the beer and stir into the flour mixture. (This can be made ahead and refrigerated before the egg whites are added.)

Whisk together the egg whites, sugar, and cream of tartar until the whites hold soft peaks. Immediately before frying, fold the egg whites into the batter.

I have an on-camera interview on Tuesday, so we’ll see how it goes. Anyway, make these cookies so you can say you did before I went on TV and got big. Also because they’re rich and delicious and melt in your mouth.

A year before starting He Cooks, She Cooks, I studied for a semester in Sydney. It was an exciting time of traveling, making friends and, of course, eating.

I tried Aussie classics like pavlova, lamingtons, shrimp on the barbie, barramundi fish, and a burger topped with beetroot and a fried egg. But my Sydney food memories span many more cuisines. Besides the friendly people and jaw-dropping landscape, the best part about Sydney was the multiculturalism. I always said, if we can’t decide where to eat, let’s just spin a globe.

I’ll never forget the Turkish kebabs and pide from take-away places, the Lebanese restaurant with bellydancers and the best falafel I’ve ever had, Hugo’s gourmet pizza, Chinese noodles from an underground mall in Haymarket, the Spanish churros and hot chocolate at San Churro, King Street’s endless supply of Thai restaurants, Portuguese chicken shops in Dulwich Hill, samosas at the Indian Holi Festival, modern French pastries at Adriano Zumbo, Taco Tuesdays at the Flying Fajita Sistas…

And then there were the times I cooked. I’d pick up a local catch at the Sydney Fish Market and buy produce at the Paddy’s Market, then cook something Asian-inspired at my friend Nicole’s house. I’d make cookies, brownies and peanut-butter-chocolate Chex mix for my housemates. I shared my California background by making fajitas for my friends. And for our Semester-End Fiesta, I made 23 avocados’ worth of guacamole.

I can’t think about Australia without thinking about food. And so often, thinking about food makes me think of Australia. Sydney exposed me to heaps of new and wonderful things that I’ll incorporate into my own cooking for the rest of my life. (Also, Aussie words and phrases like ‘heaps’)

If you’re interested in more about Sydney, see my travel blog, Cross-World Puzzle. My posts tagged ‘food’ are here.

The theme of the night was ambiance.

My friend and fellow foodblogger Ally came over to help make a warm and hearty Moroccan meal for my family. As the vegetables roasted and the chicken simmered, we dimmed the dining room lights and adorned the table with candles and tiny tajine pots. We made a pot of hot mint tea.

During the meal, my family tried to remember Moroccan restaurants we had been to around the world.

What was the one with rose petals on the floor?

Oh yeah, it was downstairs and had candles on the wall?

Remember that one with all the pillows?

Bereber?

No.

That one has pillows too. The one on Robertson?

No.

That one had pillows.

404?

I think it was in New York.

Ok, so they all have pillows.

Homemade Moroccan bread — the recipe I used seems to have disappeared from the Internet

Then it clicked. Earlier in the week I read the Morocco chapter of New American Chef:

“The real beauty of Moroccan cuisine, however, is the hospitality that is as engulfing as the flavors and aromas.”

Several times the book mentioned the importance of comfort while eating. I know we must have had delicious and filling meals of couscous, merguez, tagines and other Moroccan delights, but what we all remembered most about those restaurants was the ambiance. The low tables, the heavy curtains, the rustic walls, the ceremonious pouring of tea, the rose petals, the pillows…

The meal Ally and I prepared was definitely tasty, and equally important, served with just the right ambiance.

North African meals previously: Tunisian Lamb Stew, Moroccan Roast Chicken and Algerian Carrot Salad

Saffron Chicken Tajine with Prunes

Adapted from Abdel Rebbaj recipe in The New American Chef

Serves 6

• 2-3 Spanish onions, diced
• 6 garlic cloves, crushed
• extra virgin olive oil
• 2 teaspoons fresh grated ginger (or 1 tablespoon dry ginger powder)
• 1/2 teaspoon saffron threads
• chicken for 6 people (we did 2 legs, 2 thighs, 3 large breasts)
• 30 prunes (I probably had less than 30, but then added some dried apricots, too)
• 1/4 honey (we decided not to do this)
• 3/4 cup toasted almonds (we did cashews)
• 2 tablespoons sesame seeds (forgot to add this)
• handful of cilantro, leaves only, chopped
• handful of flat leaf parsley, leaves only, chopped

In a large casserole pot, saute the onions and garlic in olive oil. Add ginger, saffron, salt and pepper, and cook for 5 to 7 minutes. Add the chicken pieces and simmer over medium heat for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Cover with water and simmer for another 50 minutes. (We used a tajine lid on a big pot since our tajine is too small for the amount we were making.)

The recipe says to add the prunes and honey at the end and cook until heated through, but we added them just after the water was brought to a simmer. I wanted them to soften and for flavors to all come together.

(You might want to skim off some fat at this point, especially if you used bone-in, skin-on chicken.)

When the chicken is cooked and the sauce has thickened some, mix in nuts and seeds. Garnish with cilantro and parsley.

Serve with couscous.

Roasted Eggplant, Tomato and Herb Salad

I saw a recipe for ‘eggplant salad’ in The New American Chef, which had eggplant, tomatoes, herbs and spices that all sounded delicious, until I read that they were supposed to be pureed together baba ganoush style. Instead, I kept all the ingredients, but served it as chopped herbs and roasted vegetables with a vinaigrette.

• 2 pounds eggplant
• 1 pound cherry tomatoes
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 bunch flat leaf parsley
• 1 bunch cilantro
• 2 garlic cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon sweet paprika
• 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• lemon wedges

Wash and cut eggplant into bite-sized chunks. Salt and allow to drain in a colander.

Wash and dry tomatoes. Toss whole tomatoes and eggplant pieces with some olive oil, salt and pepper. Place vegetables on a sheet or roasting pan and cook at 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until vegetables are soft, but not mush, and have started to brown.

Chop herbs and put in a large salad bowl with warm vegetables.

With a mortar and pestel, mash garlic with spices and salt. Whisk vinegar and olive oil in with garlic mixture.

Toss salad with vinaigrette and adjust seasoning as necessary. Add lemon juice or serve with wedges on the side.

A brief introduction: I’m a 21 year old college student at the University of Missouri. I’m an untrained (dangerous, I know) and often confused cook. I like just about all eatable things if they’re put together in the right way—which happens to be the tricky part and what I’m generally interested in finding out.

I love snacks. They’re the practical, any-time-of-day dessert. Moreover, they’re portable and easy to eat. If you can’t eat it out of your hand, it’s not a snack. I mean, desserts are great—it’s hard to beat warm pie after a filling meal—but they’re more ceremonial and require plate and fork. Cookies bring the best of both worlds into something sweet, portable and generally circular.

If I say there are a thousand different cookies, there’s probably a thousand and one. So, universal perfection is really something impossible to achieve—or claim. Really, it’s about individual food preference: if you like cherries, make a cookie with cherries, if you like peanut butter, find a great recipe for a peanut butter cookie. If you like it, you can probably find a way to put it into a cookie.

Here’s what you need, the beer is optional…and for the chef, not the cookies. If you want beer cookies see here.

So, although I’ll never believe in an “ultimate” cookie, I did believe in finding an “ultimate” cookie dough to receive any number of delicious culinary delights (for me, nuts and chocolate). Really, I was trying to find the best chocolate chip cookie recipe; but what you decide to put in the dough doesn’t matter, it’s the dough itself I was concerned with. It seemed simple, but every recipe I found claiming to be the “World’s Greatest Chocolate Chip Cookie” with references to grandmothers or Eastern Europe fell flat. They were too thin, or too puffy—too dense or too light. I’ve probably made 15 different versions of the same cookie.

What follows is the surprisingly simple, combined-from-many-cookies recipe for walnut-chocolate chip cookies. But I’d say throw in whatever you like, or whatever’s in your pantry.

The Perfect Cookie

Recipe combined from several sources. Makes about 32 cookies.

Dry

• 2 1/4 cups AP (all-purpose) flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp baking soda

Wet 1

• 2 sticks (1 cup) butter
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup sugar

Wet 2

• 1 egg + 1 egg yolk
• 2 tbsp milk
• 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Optional

• A decent amount of chopped walnuts and chocolate chips, or anything else you want to chuck in. I never measure this, I just add until it looks good. Probably about 2 cups combined.

Follow the creaming method. Sift dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl. Cream butter and sugars together in another bowl. And whisk the second set of wet ingredients together in another small bowl.

Add combined wet ingredients to the large bowl of dry ingredients and mix with a wooden spoon.

Spoon dough onto parchment-lined cookie sheet (see note below), about 8 cookies per pan.

Bake at 375 (I run mine at 365, do what makes your cookies happiest) for about 12 minutes. Repeat with remaining batches.

Note: Parchment paper is a godsend for cookie making. If you haven’t tried using it, spend the money to buy a roll—it’s totally worth it. It helps prevent burning and sticking and makes cleaning pans 10x easier. Also, if you have trouble with burning cookie bottoms, try stacking your cookie sheet on another pan so a layer of air exists between the two. It’ll help regulate the temperature and cut down on direct heat to the bottom of your cookie sheet.

One last requirement: a cookie jar. It’s the perfect cookie container and in my mind a necessary component of cookie making. I prefer a clear one, but get whatever suits your kitchen. There’s nothing more homely than a full jar of cookies perched on a kitchen counter.

But I have several other guy friends who happen to be great cooks, too. In the next few months, you’ll hear from some of them (and hopefully Michael as well). I expect you’ll be surprised just how adept 20-something year-old guys can be in the kitchen. And I hope you enjoy the new balance of voices on the site.

Ruth Reichl has achieved first-name-only status with a few friends and me. Not because we personally know her, but we had read and adored her memoirs (my reviews here and here), seen some of her magazine work and even followed her tweets. The former LA Times and NY Times restaurant critic and sadly now-former Gourmet editor in chief is an icon to those who know and love food. I mean, the Reichl part is just unnecessary at this point.
So imagine how excited I am to tell you, I talked to Ruth!

Evan Kleiman, Ruth Reichl, Jonathan Gold and Laurie Ochoa.

I went up to her after she spoke as part of a panel including Jonathan Gold (first food critic to win a Pulitzer) and his wife Laurie Ochoa, another editor of Gourmet. KCRW’s Good Food host Evan Kleiman led the discussion about the magazine, which Conde Nast folded in November.

During the event, Ruth talked about the changes she, Jonathan and Laurie made to the publication. (Ruth had one condition for accepting the job: that she could bring Jonathan and Laurie, who she had worked with at the LA Times, on board too.)
“It (Gourmet) had become very polite and old fashioned,” Ruth said. “I thought of it as a publication for about a thousand very wealthy people to give to their travel agents and say these are the trips I want to take. There was no fun. There was no sense of the food revolution we had been through.”

To be honest, I woulda been let down if she hadn’t worn something iridescent.

So she set out to infuse politics, sociology and environmentalism into the magazine by encouraging the staff to come up with stories they cared about, instead of having everything come from the top down. When Ruth took control of Gourmet, all of the articles for the next year were already done. She wanted the magazine to be relevant and adapt to the times.
Sure, thousands of subscribers wrote to tell her how she had “ruined the best magazine in America.” But she trusted her vision, and hired people to handwrite responses to the naysayers. Ten years after she took the job, Gourmet had reached record circulation, but the economic recession and doubts about the future of print had sent advertising into a freefall. Without any warning, Conde Nast killed the magazine two weeks before the holiday issue would have gone to press.
“The December issue was done and it was wonderful,” Ruth said.
Each copy was going to have five covers. There would have been a pullout booklet of recipes. There were three dinner spreads: a Christmas meal, a Hanukkah feast with sweet and savory doughnuts, and a cocktail party all done in plaids. There was a story on Peru and another on the history of fruitcakes. Oh what could have been…
You could tell Ruth loved what she did and she thought of leading Gourmet as an honor and profound responsibility. She said she would “absolutely” want to be involved in a Gourmet Magazine of the future. Which, who knows, could end up being formatted for the anticipated Apple tablet.
“It’s such an exciting time for food and to have the magazine pulled out from under us…” she trailed off and started talking about current political and environmental movements related to food. “To not be able to be there for that is just devastating.”
Here’s to hoping Gourmet finds a way to return. At least I’ll always have this:

Ruth signed my January 2000 issue

See full video of the Zócalo even here.