Pesto that passes the husband test

Right here, right now, I want to publicly thank my husband for being the uncomplaining, acquiescent and often, unsuspecting and trusting soul that he is.  In our few short years together, he has transformed from a frozen burrito-eating, fasting food-inhaling, vegetable-avoiding carnivore into an adventurous, willing and extremely gracious culinary neophyte.

This, my friends, was no easy task.

I know that sounds flippant.  Almost as if I took him on as a project.  Or found him as a stray, starved half to death, not ever having known a good meal and a full belly.  Which actually had been the case.  But I took his tutelage very seriously.  I knew he was capable of appreciating all kinds of foods he had never experienced if I gave him time and patience.

I never tired of encouraging him to try something new.  The secret of my success is that I wouldn't exactly make full disclosure of what he was about to eat.  You can file that under "Shady Ethics in Marital Relationships," but I knew that I had made a small triumph when, about a year ago, he came home and mentioned that he had eaten at B@#$%^  K&*$  for lunch that day and had not been able to finish his W~=++%^.  The reason?  It just didn't taste very good to him anymore.

My husband is not a foodie.  I've mentioned this (numerous times) before.  He does not live to eat.  He does not swoon over plates of foie gras.  His eyes do not roll back in his head when he savors a spoonful of warm chocolate souffle.  He does not appreciate or even care about wine.  He's a simple man, really.  He likes a good, overcooked hamburger.  He prefers his fish fried.  The closest he gets to wine is grape juice, which he often drinks and teases me by offering this description, "Fruity and seductive, with just a hint of Welches."  He uses words like, "tastes good" or "kicka**" or "is there any more of that?" to express his appreciation for food. 

I feel rather smug about the fact that he rarely says these things when we eat out, even in swanky joints.  The swooning over food, the eyes rolling back into the head, the Meg Ryan moment--these responses belong to me.  And I am not ashamed of them.  Not one little bit.

Let me tell you a secret: waiters love it when you swoon.  And then they tell the chef.  And the sommelier.  And that's a whole lot of fun, because practically everyone loves to talk about what they do well with people who appreciate their efforts.  My husband doesn't understand those interactions; however, he seems rather amused by them.  "I have to keep an eye on you," he says, chuckling.

But last night, it was my husband who swooned.  "What's that?" he asked, peering into my bowl of pasta.

"It's a new pesto I developed today."

"Why didn't you give any of that to me?"  He was almost pouting.  You need to know the backstory: pasta is what my husband would live on now that frozen burritos and fast food hamburgers have been purged from his system.

"Because you said you wanted the leftover pizza.  Here, try a bite."  I swirled some vermicelli around a few pieces of the roasted zucchini and cotija cheese that garnished the emerald green mound of pasta.  You could really smell the garlic.  It's possible that friends in neighboring states could smell the garlic.

"Wow!  Now that is some kicka** pasta!  That's the way I like my pasta!"  I was really paying attention now; my husband does not commonly experience enthusiasm and food simultaneously.

"I didn't think you liked green things.  You usually don't really like pesto, so I'm surprised."

"Well, it's really good, even though it's green."

So since the pasta passed the husband test, I wanted to pass the recipe on to you.  There's plenty of garlic to give the other vegetables status.  The celery lends a gentle, herbal note and the grated carrot gives it contrast and texture.  But it's the toasted hazelnuts, along with plenty of olive oil, that make it rich.  I garnished my plate with rough-diced zucchini that was roasted with a little olive oil and garlic.  But if you had eggplant on hand, the black sheen on the eggplant's skin would lend a beautiful visual counterpoint to the vivid green.  

I ate this pasta with a glass of Joel Gott Zinfandel 2009 (California), which was soft, smooth and very drinkable.  This juicy red has plenty of jammy fruit and spice to balance out the herbal and garlic notes in the pesto.  It's also one of those wines that makes you want to have more than one glass.  I did.

Spinach, Celery and Toasted Hazelnut Pesto

2 large cloves garlic
kosher salt
1 rib celery, ends trimmed and cut into 3" pieces
4 cups spinach leaves
1/2 cup toasted hazelnuts, lightly crushed
1/2 cup or more of good quality olive oil
plenty of freshly ground black pepper
1 small carrot, grated (I use a Microplane parmesan grater)
1 lb. vermicelli or thin spaghetti, cooked al dente and kept warm
1/2 cup crumbled cotija or feta cheese, for garnish
1 cup diced zucchini or eggplant roasted with garlic, olive oil and seasoned well with salt and pepper, for garnish (you can do this in an oven or stovetop; what you want is caramelization for best flavor), optional

1.  Using a food processor, finely chop the garlic.
2.  Add the kosher salt and celery, processing until celery is finely chopped.
3.  Add the spinach leaves and toasted hazelnuts and with the motor running, drizzle in the olive oil.  Process until pesto is the consistency of mayonnaise, adding more olive oil if you wish.
4.  By hand, stir in freshly ground pepper to taste and the grated carrot.
5.  In a large pot or skillet over medium-low heat, toss together the warm pasta and the pesto until pasta is well-coated and gently warmed through.
6.  Divide pasta among four plates and garnish with cotija or feta cheese and the roasted zucchini or eggplant.  Serves 4 generously.

The devil made me do it

The weather yesterday was heavenly.  Not at all the kind of weather that devils relish.  No unbearable heat, no hailing brimstone, no whiffs of sulpher.  Most importantly, no fires out of control.  Just pure, angelic sunshine, accompanied by nothing but blessed zephyrs.

Cooler, softer, kinder weather is finally here.  The days are crystalline and cloudless with a sun that has traded its relentless oppression for a slow, distant warmth.  The nights are heading in a deliciously bracing direction.  It's getting darker earlier, and I can see a sliver of moon through the tree canopy in my back yard, just after the sun falls below the tree line and that rich, intense Maxfield Parrish blue coats the sky like a bolt of luxurious liquid velvet.

We want to be outdoors again in the late afternoon and especially the evenings because the weather is just too enjoyable to be missed.  Last evening, with an elusive breeze just barely rustling the leaves overhead, I wanted to prolong being outdoors as long as possible.  I had a crisp glass of sauvignon blanc in hand, and the latest copy of Food and Wine.  I was relaxed.  I was in my element.  I was content.

Dinner was in the works.  Earlier that day, I had been leafing through Marcella Hazan's The Classic Italian Cook Book (New York, A. Knopf  1980).  I had found the recipe for pollo alla diavola--charbroiled chicken marinated in pepper, oil, and lemon.  I thought about the clarity of the day.  And I thought about the clean simplicity of lemon, pepper, olive oil and chicken prepared on a grill.  I thought of that wonderful grilled Caesar salad I had wanted to try.  And I thought of a deconstructed, grilled ratatouille, enriched with olive oil, brightened with fresh herbs and finish with fresh lemon juice.

Wait.  Back up the truck!  Yes, I just mentioned "pepper" in the previous paragraph.  I know that some of you doubt whether or not I can be trusted with pepper after my recent paroxysmal pepper parody.  I am happy to say that, on this particularly balmy evening in early October, I was on my very best behavior where piper nigrum was concerned.  And I was very careful about how much pepper got into the food.  Hopefully, you will all believe that I have now redeemed myself.

We dined late last evening, outside, under the canopy of trees and stars.  The air was seductively cool and gorgeous and the food was "very satisfying to an outdoor appetite," as Marcella Hazan states in the introduction to her recipe.  Here's what we ate:

Grilled Caesar Salad

My suggestions for revisions to the original epicurious.com recipe:  use two egg yolks instead of 1 whole egg in the dressing.  And yes, use the anchovies.  Caesar salad is not Caesar salad without them.  Also, after cutting your hearts of romaine in half, brush cut surfaces with olive oil before grilling.  Follow the suggested grill time to retain crispness, and you will still have a little caramelization on the romaine.


Pollo alla diavola

As Marcella says, don't skimp on the pepper, or your chicken won't be alla diavola, "hot as the devil."  You can butterfly a whole chicken and flatten it if you're familiar with this technique (or follow the instructions here), or you can use chicken leg quarters as I did.  I also added a whole lemon, sliced, with the marinade for extra punch.

1 2-lb broiling chicken, butterflied (or 4 leg quarters)
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
1 whole lemon, sliced
1 Tbs. crushed peppercorns
4 Tbs. olive oil
2 or more tsp. salt


1.  Butterfly the chicken if preparing a whole one.
2.  Put chicken or leg quarters in a large zip-top plastic bag.  
3.  Pour in lemon juice and add lemon slices, crush pepper and olive oil.
4.  Close bag securely and massage chicken a little, distributing marinade well.
5.  Marinate in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours and up to 8 hours, turning bag over from time to time.  I like to use a pan or large bowl to hold the bag just in case it leaks.
6.  Prepare a fire and position grill about 5 inches above the charcoal.  I used a gas grill and threw some lump hardwood charcoal on the lava rocks for great flavor.
7.  When the fire is ready, sprinkle chicken generously with salt and place skin-side down on the grill, laying a few lemon slices over the chicken and broil until skin is brown and blistered.
8.  Turn chicken and baste with marinade.  Salt generously and place remaining lemon slices on chicken.
9.  Turn after about 10 minutes and continue to cook again on each side, or until thigh meat is tender when pierced with a fork**, basting with marinade from time to time.  If you run out of marinade, use olive oil.
10.  Season with additional crushed pepper and salt before serving.  Serves 4.

**I turned the gas grill to the lowest setting I could and still have flame, covered the grill, and completed cooking the chicken this way.  The entire process takes about 45 minutes. 


Grilled Deconstructed Ratatouille

1 small eggplant, cut in half and each half cut into quarters
3 Roma tomatoes, cut in half
1 medium green pepper, cored, seeded and cut into quarters
1/2 white onion, cut into thick rings
1 large clove of garlic, skin on
olive oil
kosher salt for sprinkling
extra olive oil, salt and freshly ground black pepper for seasoning
8 fresh basil leaves
1 tsp. fresh marjoram leaves
fresh lemon juice, to taste

lemon wedges, for serving

1.  Lay the eggplant wedges, the tomato halves, green pepper quarters, onion rings and garlic clove on a baking sheet and drizzle generously with olive oil; sprinkle generously with salt.
2.  Grill vegetables on medium-low flame until slightly charred and eggplant is soft, about 20 minutes.
3.  Roughly chop vegetables and squeeze garlic from its skin when they have cooled enough to handle and toss into a medium-sized bowl with a little extra olive oil, salt and pepper.
4.  Tear basil leaves over grilled vegetables and add marjoram leaves.  You can substitute 1 tsp. dried basil and 1/2 tsp. dried marjoram if you don't have fresh herbs available.
5.  Season to taste with small drizzles of fresh lemon juice.
6.  Serve with lemon wedges.  Serves 4.




Wine notes: You want a crisp, bright white such as sauvignon blanc or pinot gris with this menu.  A lighter red, such as a beaujolais, a spare zinfandel, or even a Cotes du Rhone would be good choices.  Ask your wine experts at Spec's for help.

What to do in terrible times

For over a week, I haven't been able to write.  The spirit just wasn't in me after witnessing and learning of several great sadnesses and recent disasters in my own very small world.  My role has always been to console and support, so I found myself doing that a lot.  I realized that I also had to console and support myself, however, and that trauma takes its toll on all who experience and witness it.

We had houseguests for several days because of the recent ravages of the Texas Labor Day wildfires.  We all needed to be distracted from the ever-worsening condition of the fires due to the high and shifting winds, as well as the mounting destruction of our community's homes, parks and wildlife.  As is my habit, I chose distraction in the form of food and drink.  So we enjoyed many meals together: Asian lettuce wraps in crisp, cool iceberg leaves with a fruity Vouvray, a slow-cooked Italian pot roast with a wonderfully rich red sauce, pasta and roasted broccoli with a slightly tannic Chianti, and grilled pizzas with a spare, peppery Zinfandel.

But the smash hit of our little raggedy and fragile impromptu Victorian House Party was "Indian Night."  For a few hours, the house was filled with the aromas of an Indian kitchen, sitar music weaving a haunting backdrop.  I think that for a just a few short moments, we were able to leave heartbreak and tragedy in a place far away from the dining room table and enjoyed food and wine and laughter.  The perfect foil for our Indian repast was one of my favorite roses, Sauvion Rose d'Anjou 2009 (Loire, France).  Soft, light, and beautiful in the glass, this is a lightly sweet wine with lots of strawberry and a crisp, clean finish.  It is, as one of my wine friends likes to say, "entirely gulpable."  The best part of this rose?  It's about $10!  Ask your wine guy (or girl) at Spec's to help you find it.

Here are the recipes I made:

Chicken Tikka Masala

   Adapted and lightened from a Jamie Oliver recipe.  Start marinating the chicken the night before for the best flavor.

3 garlic cloves, peeled and grated
1 1/2 inches fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1 large fresh chili, seeded and chopped
olive oil
1/2 Tbs. mustard seeds (I like to use brown mustard seeds)
1/2 Tbs. paprika
1/2 Tbs. turmeric
1 tsp. ground cumin
2 tsp. ground coriander
1 Tbs. garam masala

7 oz. Greek yogurt
4 medium boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1 1/2 inch chunks
skewers
cooking spray
fresh limes, cut into quarters
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1.  Combine garlic, ginger, and chili in a large bowl and set aside.
2.  Heat enough oil to cover the bottom of a small saute pan and add mustard seeds.  When they begin to pop, remove from heat and add to bowl with garlic mixture.
3.  Add paprika, turmeric, cumin, coriander and garam masala and mix well.
4.  Stir in Greek yogurt, then add chicken and blend well.  You can marinate this as little as 1 hour, but I think it tastes best after sitting in the fridge overnight.
5.  Heat grill to medium hot.
6.  Place marinated chicken on skewers and spray with cooking spray so chicken doesn't stick to grill.
7.  Sear chicken on all sides, about 7 to 10 minutes; watch carefully so it doesn't burn and reduce heat if necessary.
8.  Serve on a platter with lime wedges and chopped cilantro sprinkled over.  Serves 4 generously.


Hot Garlic Cauliflower

        This is really good with cabbage, too.  Adapted from "Curries Without Worries" by Sudha Koul (1989, Cashmir Press).

6 Tbs. oil
6 hot green chilies, stemmed and finely chopped (you can reduce the number of chilies if you're worried
      about too much spice, but at least 4 are required, seeds and all!)
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1 large sized head of cauliflower, separated into small florets, rinsed and drained (or use 1 medium sized
      head of cabbage, rinsed and drained, cut into thin, long strips)
salt to taste

1.  In a 6-quart saucepot, heat the oil on high heat.
2.  Add the chilies and garlic and stir-fry briskly for a few seconds, just long enough to toast the garlic a bit.
3.  Add the cauliflower (or cabbage) and salt, and stir well, until all ingredients are mixed thoroughly.
4.  Cook for about 3 minutes, then turn off the heat, and cover for 5 minutes before you serve.  The cauliflower (or cabbage) should be a little crunchy when done.  Serves 6.


Bhindi Aloo

     My favorite Indian potato dish with crisp, curried okra.  Again, from my hero Sudha Koul's book.

1 lb. fresh okra
1 lb. medium potatoes, cut into 1 1/2 inch chunks (preferably red potatoes with skins left on)
1/2 cup oil
1 Tbs. ground coriander seed
1 Tbs. ground cumin seed
1/2 Tbs. ground turmeric
1 Tbs. garam masala
salt to taste
1/2 cup chopped cilantro leaves

1.  Wash and drain vegetables thoroughly.  The okra, particularly, should be washed and drained well in advance so that it is completely dry when you are ready to cook.
2.  Cut off and discard stem ends of okra.
3.  Heat the oil in a heavy wok or large saute pan on high heat for a couple of minutes, or until shimmering.
4.  Add the potatoes and okra.
5.  Stir fry for about 5 minutes.
6.  Add remaining ingredients (except cilantro) and stir well.
7.  Reduce heat to medium, cover and cook until potatoes and okra are done/tender, about 10 minutes.  Serves 6.

To all of you who are without homes and who are without hope, may you find someone who will cook for you, pour you a glass of wine and comfort you.  Namaste.