Syrian Cheese Making, Part 2

I learned a lot yesterday:  that some 85-year old women have more stamina and resilience than women 35 years their junior, and that where there's a will there's a way! When beautiful Laurice entered my kitchen, laden with bags full of goodies from the morning's shop, a joy filled the room as though someone had just turned on the light. Ever the teacher, and eager to get to work, Laurice and friends Laurie (a graphic designer) and Midge (a "finishing school" photo editor), helped find large pots and trays and unwrapped a 12-pound block of cheese curd! With the prowess of a professional chef, Laurice set up her mise en place -- 3 to 4 pounds of kosher salt, (who measures?), the mahleb (more about that later), nigella seeds, a huge roasting pan filled halfway with cold water, and an egg.  "Everybody wash your hands," she decreed, and then dropped a bombshell.  "Where's your microwave, Rozanne?"  "Microwave?, I responded.  I don't have a microwave."   She was crestfallen.  The adventure was over. "What? No meat pies, spinach pies, hummus and babaganoosh?  No olives, sesame pita bread, homemade baklava (provided by Laurice)?  No string cheese?  We all fluttered around like a bunch of chickens.  "Let's buy one," I said!  "No!" said my husband.  "Let's take everything and go back to Laurice's."  "No!," I said.  "Let's call Arthur!" He and Bob were just about to leave their house, but we reached them in the nick of time.  Within 15 minutes, their brand new microwave, brought over on a hand truck, had landed on my kitchen counter.  Arthur, of course, joked about the scarcity of microwaves in ancient Syria, but Laurice assured us that it was essential to melt the curd at exactly the right temperature and figured that 8 ounces of crumbled cheese curd on a very large plate needed 1 minute and 15 seconds to nuke and soften to perfection.

I ground the mahleb ($27 a pound) -- dried cherry pits, tasting a bit like ground almonds, that are an essential component of Syrian string cheese -- to a powdery state in my coffee grinder, and under Laurice's watchful eye, mixed in the right amount (who measures?) of nigella seeds.  They, too, are integral to the taste of the cheese.  Laurice added almost 3 pounds of salt to the cold water bath.  How did she know if the brine was salty enough?  Well, that's what the egg was for!  You immerse it in the water and if it bobs up to the size of a silver dollar, then it's ready!  It wasn't.  More salt was added and then the fun began.  We all took turns handling the gooey hot curds and sprinkling them with the exotic spice mixture.  Laurice instructed us each how to pull, and stretch, and pull and s-t-r-e-t-c-h, and stretch and pull, and twist and hook and braid. Each of the 24 cheeses was then carefully immersed in the brine for an hour.  During that time we laughed and competed, burned our fingers, drank strong coffee, ate meat pies and spinach pies and babaganoosh, pita bread and olives, and marveled at the flavor of Laurice's not-too-sweet baklava.  The day was saved.  We divvied up the cheese and decided to make pickles next.

The girls bought the cheese curd at:  Lioni Latticini, Inc. 718-232-7852 (7819 15th Ave. in Brooklyn). They bought the cheese pies, pita, spices, etc. Mid-East Bakery  718-680-0561 (7808 3rd Ave. in Brooklyn) and Samia's 718-748-3337 (7922 3rd Ave.)

Syrian Cheese Making, Part I

Last month, I did a cooking class at Whole Foods on the Bowery.  It was a very enjoyable experience due in large part to the fabulous two assistants who cooked with me for the five hours that I was there-- prepping, schmoozing and sharing ideas. Kitchen gossip.  I was also delighted that several sated students (say that three times fast!) stayed afterwards to chat.  One of those avid class-goers, Laurie S., told me that she, too, lived in Park Slope and asked if I would enjoy learning how to make Syrian string cheese?  An interesting non-sequitur, but it got my attention.  "Who wouldn't?" I exclaimed and awaited further instructions.   Well, today is the day!  A flurry of emails resulted in a well-oiled plan.  Laurie and her 85-year old neighbor, Laurice Najjar, the cheese maker, would be coming at 12:30 p.m. after shopping for ingredients.  They would be making two stops:  first at Lioni Latticini in Brooklyn, for cheese curds ("Do you know them? Fantastic mozzarella," Laurie wrote), then to a Syrian market near 78th St. and 3rd Ave. for herbs.  My instructions:  A very large stockpot ( 20 lb. turkey size,  Laurie noted) is required for the brine which Laurice will bring unless you have one.  Beyond that, not much else is needed, she said.  "I'll provide kosher salt and foil, but one egg from you would be good."  A last-minute detail was the need for a spice grinder, which I have, and I've got the egg ready!   I asked Laurie to pick up some Syrian goodies for us to munch on for lunch and I am just now making my signature "Venetian Wine Cake" for dessert.   Laurie's friend Midge, a photojournalist, is joining us and -- as a great treat for us all -- my dear friend, the food maven Arthur Schwartz, is coming, too! The art of making Syrian string cheese, I'm told, comes from the melting and working of the cheese to just the right elasticity.  It then gets pulled and braided into shape.  Known by its Arabic name, jibneh mshallaleh, it is made from cow's milk and a Middle-Eastern spice, called mahleb.  Today we may be adding other herbs and spices.  It's lots of fun to eat the cheese, strand by strand, and chase them down with sips of licorice-perfumed ouzo.   But today, we'll just have tea.  Wish you were here.

Chicken So Good, It Melts In Your Mouth

Last week I had lunch with an expert.  I don't, and can't say this about most people because most of them are just like me -- barely approaching "expert" in the field(s) we've deemed our life's work.  But this expert truly is.  She's also great fun to be with and very smart.  Robin Adelson, whose blog I wholeheartedly recommend, is, as she states, "first and foremost a mom."  But she is also the Executive Director of the Children's Book Council, the national trade association of children's book publishers, and Every Child a Reader, the industry's literacy foundation.  Impressive, right?  She also has three beautiful daughters (one of whom went to middle school with my beautiful daughter) yet finds the time to read every book she recommends and write a philosophical blog to boot.  A lawyer-turned-children's literacy advocate, Robin's expertise also finds its way to the kitchen.  She is a voracious hostess who has strong opinions about food so, when she speaks, I listen.  Needless to say, I was delighted to learn that her new favorite "go-to dish" for family and friends is my "Almost Confit" Chicken, adapted from Radically Simple. My recipe serves four.  Robin makes it in huge disposable aluminum roasting pans to serve 40!  She recommends it highly because it tastes very rich and fattening, yet there is no additional fat added to the recipe. It is astonishingly simple to prepare and you might even call it child's play.   Two of my books, Kids Cook 1-2-3 and Eat Fresh Food: Awesome Recipes for Teen Chefs (published by Bloomsbury) reflect my burgeoning interest in making every child a cook.  Maybe Robin and I can work on this together.  Reading and cooking have always been (still are!) two of my favorite things.  Both lifelong skills and lifetime companions. Why not make this tonight with your child(ren)?  Confit is a preparation in which a protein is cooked in its own fat or in copious amounts of oil, after which it is usually crisped. Here is a much healthier approach but one that yields exceedingly succulent results--so good, it melts in your mouth.

"Almost Confit" Chicken with Melted Garlic

8 large bone-in chicken thighs, 8 ounces each 14 large garlic cloves, peeled 1-1/2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves, plus sprigs for garnish 6 fresh bay leaves 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper freshly ground nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  Put the chicken in a large bowl.  Press 2 garlic cloves through a press and rub into the chicken.  Add the thyme leaves, bay leaves, allspice, white pepper, and 1-1/2 teaspoons salt.  Grate some nutmeg over the chicken and toss.  Place the chicken in a roasting pan, skin side down.  (I use an enamel paella pan.)  Cover the pan tightly with foil and bake 45 minutes.  Turn the chicken skin side up and scatter the remaining garlic cloves around.  Re-cover and bake 1 hour longer.  Turn on the broiler. Uncover the chicken and broil several inches from the heat for 5 to 10 minutes, until the skin is crispy.  Discard the bay leaves and garnish with thyme sprigs.  Serves 4

Dr. Bee, Moe and Me

Several days ago, I hopped on a train from Manhattan's majestic Grand Central Station to Tarrytown, New York -- Pocantico Hills to be exact.  I love that ride as the train hugs the Hudson and within minutes has you believing that you are on vacation.  In fact, I was.  I was on my way to a honey tasting with my best friend, Dale Bellisfield, clinical herbalist and urban bee keeper, to the home of some guy who Dale met when she gave a lecture at Stone Barns some weeks before.  Maurice, or Moe, was also a bee keeper, and kept 100 honeys in nooks and crannies all over his restored carriage house -- jars and bottles of amber liquid of varying shapes, sizes, and hues could be found hugging the kitchen walls, stashed under his bed, and secreted in the basement (next to his Harley and collection of vintage leather jackets).  Incongruous, to say the least, Moe was congenial and generous with his time, knowledge and...honey.  He also kept a sophisticated cache of important teas which we brewed and drank all afternoon -- both a libation and palate cleanser. My magnum of blended Malbec-Bonarda from Argentina went unopened (although I do have more than a passing fancy as to the effects of honey on red wine.)  Dale, also generous to a fault, brought three cheeses -- Humboldt Fog goat cheese, Gorgonzola picante, and ricotta salata -- perfect for partnering with honey -- ultra-thin crackers, and several blue-ribbon award-winning honeys from New Jersey.  Along with heritage pork, heirloom vegetables, and zip code organics, honey is one of the trends of the year.  Connoisseurship of nature's sweet elixir will soon rival the expertise of a great sommelier.  As with any professional wine tasting, our honey tasting was scored on a scale of 1 to 20, with copious note taking and much discussion.  What words does one use to describe honey?  What characteristics are most important?  How do you strip away the concept of sweetness and go deeper to the nuances of aroma, flavor and mouthfeel?  Fascinating stuff, really.

We were giddy with pleasure and no doubt experiencing a sugar high.  Hands down, the winner was (Moe was not voting at this moment)  ...the honey from Pocantico Hills!  Moe had made it!  Dale and I both ranked it first -- with exclamations of "what finesse, elegant, notes of lychee, Bordeaux-like."  Moe's honey came from the pollination of wildflowers, trees and shrubs.  Other honeys we tried, and loved, included cotton honey from Georgia, yellow star thistle, purple star thistle, gallberry, black locust, tupelo, lavender honey from Spain, manuka, and the only honey made on Martha's Vineyard, gathered from local wildflowers.  Adjectives like musty, dusty, licorice, lemony, molasses-y, floral, leathery, guns & roses, peppered our speech.  With many thank to Maurice (Moe) Curran, a super-tech executive, turned country gent on a Harley, for a very special day.  Friends forever.   Gather thy honey, while thee may and enjoy a tasting of your own.

Merci, Bon Appétit

This month's Bon Appétit magazine, March 2011, has a cover story with lots of appeal.  On the upper left are big letters that spell out everyone's favorite comfort dish:  MAC & CHEESE.  "Hands down the tastiest version we've ever made" -- the editors agreed to comment on the cover.  "And other remarkably sumptuous baked pastas," it goes on to say.  Those are great headlines, I have to admit, especially because that story is mine!  More than five months ago I was asked to write an article featuring baked pasta recipes.  I struggled with it more than most and even complained to my best friend, pasta-maven Arthur Schwartz, that it was difficult to put a new spin on not one, but five such recipes. The reasons were plentiful: pasta continues to absorb liquid and tends to "grow" in the dish; there can be a "sameness" about the flavors of most baked pastas, and there are far fewer recipes for baked pastas in the Italian repertoire than you would imagine except for lasagna, baked ziti and cannelloni (when was the last time you saw that on a menu?).   It occurred to me that macaroni and cheese might fit the bill, and so I "amp-ed" up the classic by tossing pasta with my version of pimiento cheese!, then stirred three cheeses into its coral creaminess, and added a flourish of parmesan crumbs on top.  Simply baked until the topping gets crisp and the sauce is bubbling, this slyly named Pimiento Mac & Cheese is rather good.  Are you perchance thinking of making it tonight?  (Recipe below).  The four other featured recipes are Moroccan-Spiced Pastitsio with Lamb & Feta -- perfumed with ras el hanout and dried mint; Rigatoni with Eggplant and Pine Nut Crunch; a lusty Lasagna with Turkey Sausage Bolognese, flavored with fennel seed, white wine and basil; and Tortellini Gratinati with Mushrooms & Parsnip "Bechamel." That one may, in fact, be my favorite -- flavored with fresh rosemary and grated nutmeg, I'm rather certain no one has ever made a parsnip bechamel before.  The root vegetable, cooked and pureed, takes the place of the butter and flour in the classic sauce, and adds a sweet earthiness of its own.  Hey, maybe the March 2011 issue should be named Buon Appetito!  Enjoy!

Rozanne Gold's Pimiento Mac & Cheese The mix of Parmesan, cheddar, bell pepper and sweet-tangy Peppadew peppers coats the pasta perfectly -- and the panko topping adds great texture.

1 large red bell pepper, 7 to 8 ounces, seeded and cut into 1-inch pieces 2 garlic cloves, peeled and halved 1/2 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs) 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano 3/4 cup drained Peppadew peppers in brine, 1 tablespoon brine reserved 1/4 teaspoon ground ancho chiles 1-1/4 cups packed shredded extra-sharp yellow cheddar cheese 1 packed cup shredded whole-milk mozzarella 8 ounces medium shell pasta or gemelli

Bring 1/2 cup water, bell pepper, and 1-1/2 garlic cloves to a boil in a small saucepan.  Cover; reduce heat to medium-low.  Simmer until pepper is soft, about 15 minutes. Toast panko in a skillet over medium-high heat until golden, stirring often, 5 minutes.  Transfer to bowl; cool to lukewarm.  Rub 1 tablespoon butter into crumbs to coat.  Mix in 1/4 cup parmesan cheese.  Transfer bell pepper mixture to processor.  Add Peppadews and 1 tablespoon brine, 2 tablespoons butter, ground chiles, and 1/2 garlic clove.  Then add cheddar and 1/4 cup parmesan.  Process until sauce is smooth; season with salt and pepper.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Butter an 8-cup baking dish,  Cook pasta in a pot of boiling salted water until tender but still firm to bite.  Drain; return to pot.  Stir sauce and mozzarella into pasta.  Season with salt and pepper.  Spoon pasta into dish.  Sprinkle with crumb topping.  Bake until topping is crispy and sauce is bubbling, about 25 minutes.  Let rest 10 minutes and serve.  Serves 6

Recipe Hijack

Last week when I was honored at New York University for donating Gourmet's cookbook library to the esteemed institution, the subject of a missing recipe came up. Zanne Zakroff Stewart, who was the executive editor of Gourmet magazine for decades, said that she was in possession of all of Gourmet's recipes -- except one. That recipe happened to be mine: Candied Ginger and Rosemary Squares that Zanne said she has loved for years but simply could not find in her extensive files.  The next day, I ransacked my office looking for the recipe.  I, too, could not find it, nor could I remember what issue it was in.  I did, however, remember some of the other recipes in that article.  It was a time of great creativity I suppose, for in that same article were recipes such as Curried Onion Baklava; a savory cheesecake made with feta and mascarpone cheese in a black and white sesame crust, and an Arabic orange salad.  I sent an email to Zanne hoping that would help her in her search. In the meantime, I went to Google.  I was curious whether the recipe had landed on Epicurious, as so many of my recipes have.  Well, there it was. My exact recipe.  Except it had someone else's name on it! Now they were called Paul's Candied Ginger and Rosemary Squares and they were submitted to Epicurious two years ago by a certain chef Paul Boyami.  I laughed. This happens all the time -- some cases more extreme than others. Once a chef plagiarized 13 of my recipes and sent them, with his own photographs, to a major newspaper in Miami!  And...the recipes were in the exact order that he copied them from my Recipes 1-2-3 Menu Cookbook.  That cookbook even won a James Beard Award.  What was he thinking?!  The issue of recipe theft and plagiarism in our industry is monumental and getting worse given the instantaneous kleptomaniacal nature of the Internet.  Zanne wrote to me later in the day.  With the hints I had given her, she was able to find the recipe.  It was from the November 1994 issue of Gourmet!  Here's the recipe and here's what they look like.  I made them yesterday, with great excitement, for my brunch guests -- for I haven't had them since 1994.  The photo was taken by my husband, Michael, who just popped one in his mouth.  Enjoy!

Candied Ginger and Rosemary Squares

1 3/4 cups sugar 4 sticks unsalted butter 1 teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, chopped (3 tablespoons if using dried) 1 cup candied ginger, chopped 1 tablespoon water 4 cups all purpose flour, sift with salt 2 each large eggs, beaten

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large bowl with an electric mixer beat together butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Into a medium bowl sift together flour and salt and gradually beat into butter mixture with three fourths of eggs. Beat in ginger and rosemary and press dough evenly into a 13" x 9" baking pan.

In a small bowl beat water into remaining egg to make an egg wash and brush on dough. With back of knife score dough (about 1/4 inch deep) in a crosshatch pattern and bake in middle of oven 35 to 45 minutes, or until a tester inserted in center comes out clean. Cool pastry in pan on a rack and cut into 24 squares. Pastry may be made 5 days ahead and chilled covered. Let pastry come to room temperature before serving.

Garnish pastry with rosemary sprigs. Serves 16 to 20

The Week in Review

It's Sunday and often the day I evaluate the goings-on in the past week. What a week it was. A double-header on Leonard Lopate's wonderful radio show on WNYC (and you can hear the podcast) and a special party (in my honor I am proud to say) at New York University to celebrate the legacy of Gourmet magazine and the "rescuing" of their extensive library. You might remember that when Gourmet abruptly closed last year, their 3500-volume cookbook library was in immediate danger of being discarded. Upon direction from management, and no one fully knows why, the collection was to be sold off, book by book. Unthinkable in the food world, for this trove of cookbooks was far more than the sum of its parts. It chronicled the history and breadth of our food culture, showcasing the evolution of our eating habits, and the coming of age of today's food revolution.

Through a stealth series of phone calls made by the director/curator of Fales Library, I was asked whether I knew anyone who could rescue the collection. It didn't take me long to figure out who. I could think of no better way to honor my mother, Marion Gold -- a gorgeous woman of Hungarian lineage -- more Zsa Zsa than Julia -- who was the spark plug for my passions both in and out of the kitchen. She encouraged me, at a time when women were anathema in professional kitchens, to pursue my dream. That meant...dropping out of graduate school (at NYU!) and heading for my first food-related job interview at...Gourmet magazine. It's lovely when life comes full circle. I never got the job, but instead cooked in many New York restaurants (including the wonderful, and sadly missed, La Colombe d'Or and the revered Le Plaisir) before committing fully to the industry that has become my life. Years later, I wrote several articles for Gourmet and years later, was featured in one of their cover stories. The night was a "who's who" of visionaries in the food world -- Sara Moulton, Arthur Schwartz, Jeffrey Steingarten (from Vogue), Leonard Lopate, Eddie Schoenfeld, award-winning author Karen Dornenburg, tv star Ellie Krieger, and many faces from Gourmet. More than 150 guests sipped and schmoozed and gazed at some of the books from the collection. More than 2800 books have already been catalogued with funds provided by Les Dames d'Escoffier, with only 700 or so, to go! The collection will be available "on line" when it has been completed. At the end of the evening, Zanne Zakroff Stewart, Gourmet's executive food editor for decades, came up to me and poignantly said, "I have every recipe from Gourmet but one. It is the one for your candied ginger and rosemary bars. I have looked everywhere and am desperate to find it." It was a sweet ending to a wonderful night. I will post the recipe as soon as I find it!

Kohlrabi is King

If you are in the tri-state area, you may be able to tune in today at noon to Leonard Lopate's riveting radio show on WNYC -- 820 AM -- where I, and Alice Walton, the farm coordinator from Katchkie Farm (upstate New York) will be talking about "the new meat" -- ROOT vegetables. They are getting the respect they deserve and have, so to speak, come out of the closet (or root cellar.) Leonard's producer mentioned that we would be exploring the glories of winter's weirder vegetables -- namely kohlrabi and salsify and, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have never made either one. I am currently in love with parsnips and rutabagas, and you will find many recipes for these rapacious roots in Radically Simple (from parsnip fries to a dreamy rutabaga, creme fraiche & havarti torte that looks a lot like a birthday cake.) But in the last few days, kohlrabi is king in our house. Both green and purple varieties, I have roasted, boiled, steamed, and fried them, and slivered them raw. Kohlrabi, known as a German turnip, is a low, stout, spherical relation to the cabbage that will grow most anywhere. Its leaves can also be eaten. In fact, kohlrabi is the "national veg" of Kashmir where it can be found on many kitchen tables, three or four times a week. The taste and texture is similar to that of a broccoli stalk but it is sweeter and the flesh is more translucent. Hands down we now have two favorite ways of eating this at home. Boiled whole, then refrigerated until very cold, I peel them (the skin slips off easily) and cut them into meticulous 1/2-inch cubes. I dab each with a bit of creme fraiche and sea salt. That's it! I know this will be my next hors d'oeuvres for a party, topped off with a smidge of caviar. Gorgeous alabaster cubes of sweet earthiness and salinity. Our second favorite way is to boil and chill them, cut them into 1-inch cubes and fry them in olive oil until golden brown and crispy all over. We sprinkle them with salt and West Indian curry powder. Fabulous! Healthy! Meaty and fleshy! Stay tuned to Roots, part 2 tomorrow.

Chocolate Oblivion with Sun-Dried Cherries

As promised, here it is.  A romantic dinner for two, or four, (and 10 for dessert!) with all the recipes posted to date. (Feb. 12, 13, 14th.) This is one title that says it all:  A single bite will distract you from anything else going on at the table.  Somewhere between a chocolate truffle and chocolate mousse, your fork glides through it effortlessly.  The cake is baked in a water bath which helps give it its unusual texture.  Use a great-quality chocolate, one from Valrhona, perhaps, not unsweetened, and not semisweet, but one with a slightly bitter edge, around 70%. Happy Valentine's Day.

Chocolate Oblivion with Sun-Dried Cherries 12 ounces bittersweet chocolate 2 sticks unsalted butter 7 extra-large eggs 1 scant cup sugar (7/8 cup) 1 teaspoon almond extract 1 cup unsweetened dried cherries

Chop chocolate and butter into pieces.  Place in a heavy saucepan over very low heat until chocolate and butter melt.  Stir occasionally so that the mixture is completely smooth.  Break eggs into bowl of electric mixer.  Beat on high with sugar, almond extract and a pinch of salt.  Beat for several minutes until slightly thickened.  Using a flexible rubber spatula, add melted chocolate to eggs and beat briefly until ingredients are just incorporated.  Butter a 9-x-2 inch round cake pan.  Line with a circle of parchment paper.  Pour batter into pan and smooth on top.  Scatter evenly with dried cherries, cutting them in half if they are large.  Cover pan tightly with foil.  Place pan in a larger pan to make a water bath.  Pour boiling water half-way up the sides of the cake pan.  Bake 1 hour and 10 minutes.  Remove from the oven.  Remove cake pan from water bath.  Remove foil (the center will still be soft.)  Let cool.  Serves 10 to 12

The Food of Love

The food of love often includes truffles and chocolate and champagne.  Pommes d'amour, or love apples, as the French call tomatoes, are also appropriate on Valentine's Day.  (You've got to hand it to the French regarding romanticism in music and in vegetable nomenclature, as potatoes are called pommes de terre, or apples of the earth.) Dates, are suggestive, as are the juicy seeds of the pomegranate.  I say, put them all in your Valentine's Day dinner, and invite another couple to dine.  Whether your goal is to eradicate winter's doldrums, or immortalize Cupid (once a religious holiday, it was Chaucer who first shifted the focus to romantic love), now's the time to scoot some chairs in front of the fireplace and delight in the warmth of a splendid meal.  Don't have a fireplace?  Then set a table, even a card table, in an unexpected place -- a living room corner, for example, that's warm and cozy.   My menu for this day of affection features: Champagne with a splash of pomegranate juice, served with fleshy Medjool dates and chunks of Parmigiano-Reggiano Fresh Pasta with Truffle Butter Wine-Dark Beef Stew Horseradish Potato Puree Roasted Beets With Balsamic Syrup & Walnuts Chocolate Oblivion with Sun-dried Cherries

What to drink?  Open a bottle of Saint Amour -- a sleek French red wine that is fuller-bodied than most other Beaujolais.  With dessert, a snifter of Malvasia (a sweet dessert wine from Italy) would be nifty.

If you're so inclined, you can make the lusty beef stew two days before Valentine's Day, as it improves with age.  Even the mashed potatoes can be made and gently reheated.  Tomorrow I'll post the recipes for the radically simple pasta dish and the ruby beets.  Chocolate Oblivion is my Valentine gift to you on the morning of February 14th.

Wine-Dark Beef Stew The secret ingredient here is...hoisin! It adds great complexity to the flavor of the sauce.  Use shin meat, also known as shank meat for the most tender results.

3 pounds beef shin or chuck (net weight) 3 tablespoons olive oil 3 heaping cups finely chopped yellow onion 1/2 cup hoisin sauce 2 cups cabernet sauvignon 14-ounces diced tomatoes with herbs 5 fresh bay leaves 1 pound long, slender carrots 1 tablespoon arrowroot a handful of fresh pomegranate seeds, or fresh thyme leaves, for garnishing

Cut meat into 2-1/2-inch pieces.  Season with salt and pepper and set aside.  Heat oil in a large heavy casserole with a cover.  Add onions.  Cook over medium heat until soft and brown, stirring often.  Add meat in stages and cook over high heat until browned on all sides.  In a medium bowl, stir together hoisin, 1 cup wine, and diced tomatoes with its liquid.  Pour over the meat and add bay leaves.  Cover pot and cook over low heat 1 hour.  Peel carrots and cut on the bias into 1-inch lengths. Add to the pot.  Cover and cook 1-3/4 hours longer until meat is fork-tender.  Transfer meat and carrots to a large bowl using a slotted spoon.  Add 1 cup wine to the pot and cook over high heat until the sauce is reduced to 2-1/2 cups.  Add salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Dissolve arrowroot in 1 tablespoon water and add to sauce. Continue to cook over medium heat until thick.  Return meat and carrots to pot and heat gently.  Garnish with pomegranate seeds or thyme.  Serves 4 to 6

Horseradish Potato Puree If you follow the steps below, you can process potatoes in a food processor without them becoming glutinous provided you follow the simple steps below.

2 pounds Yukon gold potatoes 1-1/2 cups milk 1 large clove garlic 1/3 cup prepared white horseradish 6 tablespoons unsalted butter

Peel potatoes.  If large, cut in half.  Place potatoes in a large saucepan with salted water to cover.  Bring to a boil, lower heat and place cover askew.  Cook until tender, about 40 minutes.  Meanwhile, put milk in a medium saucepan.  Push garlic through a press and add to the milk.  Bring just to a boil.  Lower heat and simmer 10 minutes. Drain potatoes, saving 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid.  Place in a large bowl and use a potato masher.  Add hot milk and horseradish, mashing until creamy.  Cut butter into pieces and stir into potatoes.  At this point you can briefly process them, add a little cooking water.  Add salt and pepper.  Heat gently before serving.  Serves 4 to 6

An Egyptian Breakfast

It's now the 15th day of unrest in Egypt.  The world watches as democracy unfolds.  It is hardly the time to think about food but, for me, it brings to mind one of my favorite writers -- the Egyptian, Nobel-prize winning author, Naguib Mahfouz.  I have read most of his books (those translated into English) and several, more than once.  I vow to read them again.  Jackie Onassis had been his American editor -- which adds a certain level of grace to the experience.  What would Mr. Mahfouz have observed these last two weeks?  Would he be one of the poets in the square?  The go-to man in the corner cafe?  The voice of reason?  Or are his words a reason that the "collective voice" is being heard?   His life chronicled life in Egypt as it once was, and may never be again.  Years ago, in one of my cookbooks, I dedicated an entire menu to "Breakfast in Cairo."  It went like this: "" In the early morning hours, the streets of the cities in the Nile Valley are filled with people lined up in front of vendors selling tempting ful mudammas from earthenware pots." -- From the Land of figs and Olives, 1995 (Habeeb Salloum and James Peters)

From the President to the man in the smoky cafe, everyone in Egypt eats ful in the morning.  These little brown favas, hot and steamy, have fed this nation since antiquity. Once upon a time, I had a remarkably genteel Egyptian roommate (from Monofia, where Anwar Sadat was born) and many Egyptian friends.  We ate ful every morning. Sometimes we soaked and cooked these nourishing legumes overnight, or we would use them from cans purchased from a local Middle Eastern shop.  We made our own labaneh (thickened yogurt) suspended in olive oil, then mixed with crispy cucumbers.  Salty feta and sweet carrot jam (a recipe from my roommate's mother), lusty ful with lemon, and olives and charred pita held briefly over an open flame were a frequent morning meal.  Sometimes we would sip hot mint tea, strongly perfumed and sweet. Other times we would drink thick black coffee scented with cardamom.  Often we would discuss the lyrical works of Mahfouz, the great Egyptian writer who found parables and metaphors in chronicles of everyday life and, in 1988, won the Nobel Prize for Literature.  He, too, ate ful every morning.

--adapted from Recipes 1-2-3 Menu Cookbook, winner of the 1999 James Beard Award

Ful Mudammas with Lemon Cans of ful mudammas can be found in Middle Eastern food stores. Ful can be cooked with onion or garlic and garnished with cilantro or served with hard-boiled eggs.

2 20-ounce cans ful mudammas 3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for drizzling 3 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lemon juice 2 small lemons

Drain beans in a colander.  Wash thoroughly.  Place in a medium saucepan with cool water to just cover.  Add 1/2 teaspoon salt.  Bring to a boil the immediately lower heat.  Simmer 20 minutes.  Drain beans, saving several tablespoons cooking liquid.  Place beans in a warm bowl and mash one-quarter of them lightly.  Add reserved cooking liquid, olive oil, lemon, salt and pepper to taste.  Serve hot with a cruet of olive oil and lemons, cut in half.  Serves 4

Devilled Pecans

This was the day we loved to hang out with my dad. His enthusiasm for the Super Bowl made me smile.  After all, my dad was a star football player who scored the winning touchdown in the Sugar Bowl on January 1,1943. He played for the University of Tennessee and was then drafted by the Washington Redskins.  He grew up in Brockton, Massachusetts (where he and Rocky Marciano were sparring partners) and defected to Knoxville during his college years.  Devastatingly handsome, his hands were the size of baseball mitts and his appetite leaned towards primal: boiled lobsters, corned beef hash, steaks at Peter Luger, White Castle hamburgers, jelly beans, and pecans. This recipe is dedicated to him.

You can prepare these pecans with Worcestershire sauce as I did for years, or use Thai fish sauce, as I do now.  Either way, they are very, very good.  Pecan trees may live and bear edible nuts for more than three hundred years.  Somehow it's amazing to think about that.  They are also an excellent source of protein and unsaturated fats and are rich in omega-6 fatty acids, so enjoy.

Devilled Pecans (adapted from Entertaining 1-2-3) 2 tablespoons unsalted butter 1 tablespoon Thai fish sauce (or Worcestershire) 1/2 pound pecan halves

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Melt butter in a medium skillet and add fish sauce.  Add pecans and freshly ground black pepper.  Stir and cook over medium heat for several minutes until pecans are coated in the mixture.  Transfer pecans to a baking sheet and bake 10 minutes, stirring twice.  Drain on paper towels. Make about 2 cups

V8 Soup

Two nights ago, I gave a small dinner party at my house.  Although the style of my cooking has become rather simple, the aggregate of dishes and the worry behind cooking for the man who is writing Julia Child's newest biography (to coincide with her 100th birthday next year) and the general manager of what-will-surely be one of New York's hippest hotels, the Hotel Williamsburg (in Williamsburg!), the pressure was on.  Along with their wives, we were a group of six, chatting about world events, the mystery of Mustique, how courses on the Beatles have became mainstream in American colleges (our guest Bob also wrote the definitive book on the Beatles), and the journey of finding a chef for the hippest new hotel in New York.  We sipped those apple ginger-pear martinis I keep talking about, ate white hummus, and "devilled pecans" and tried to guess what-the-heck was in the tea cup I served in the living room before sitting down to dinner. More about that in a moment.  Dinner began with a dish of "tiradito" the Peruvian equivalent of sashimi but with a shimmering sauce of lemon, garlic and oil.  It was accompanied by a tiny timbale of potato salad vinaigrette, a handful of lightly dressed arugula and bits of radicchio (remember when that was exotic?) and a drizzle of beet vinaigrette. The main course was "My Opinionated Way to Roast a Chicken!" with (a foaming chive-garlic butter sauce), Moroccan carrot puree, steamed spinach and a roasted garlic custard.  Dessert?  A slice of my Venetian Wine Cake (with rosemary, red wine and olive oil -- and it is the ONLY recipe I don't divulge), with lemon-buttermilk sorbet, pineapple flan and creme fraiche.  To drink?  Rose champagne with the first course and a bottle of almost-impossible-to-find Freemark Abbey Cabernet Sauvignon 1986 with the chicken. But the real intrigue centered around the soup in the tea cup.  I called it "Tomato-Anisette Cappuccino."   Dearly loved, everyone took a guess at identifying its ingredients.  But no one would ever make a soup from V8 juice, anisette, and fish sauce, but me.  It was topped with salted whipped cream and snippets of fresh tarragon.  And it takes only five minutes to make.

Tomato-Anisette Cappuccino You can make this with "original" or spicy V8.  If using the original, you might want to add a few splashes of chipotle Tabasco for more intrigue.

1/2 cup heavy cream 4 cups V8 (or other tomato-vegetable juice cocktail) 1/4 cup anisette liqueur 1 teaspoon Thai fish sauce snippets of fresh tarragon for garnish

Using a wire whisk, whip the cream with a large pinch of salt until thick but not stiff. Set aside.  Put the V8 in a large saucepan.  Bring to boil, lower heat to medium and add the anisette.  Simmer for 3 minutes.  Stir in the fish sauce, salt, pepper and hot sauce, if using.  Pour into soup cups and top with whipped cream and tarragon. Serves 4 to 6

Note:  And speaking of fish sauce, tomorrow morning I will give you the world's simplest recipe for fabulous "devilled pecans" -- perfect for Super Bowl munching. Make sure you have Thai fish sauce, pecan halves, and sweet butter at the ready.

Super Bowls and Super Bowl

Breaking News:  If you go to facebook.com/lenox and click on the "cooking" tab, you will see that I have a new relationship...with Lenox!  That fabulous all-American tabletop company has decided to join the food revolution and chose me as their culinary consultant.  I'm honored and very excited by the project.  Lenox has been a part of my family's viewable treasures since I was a young girl.  Whether it was a porcelain swan that my mother used for displaying good chocolates or a small vase tipped with gold that was simply on display, Lenox China was one of those upscale, yet comforting brands that continued to stand the test of time.  Only now their product line includes some of the hippest stuff I've seen in a long time.  After writing 12 cookbooks, most of them with photographs of food and the plates upon which it is presented, I am familiar with many tablewares on the market.  I am in love with Lenox's new sushi sets -- stark-white rectangular plates that come with a tiny bowl for soy sauce and...silver chopsticks!  What bride wouldn't want a dozen of those?  I am using my new white cereal bowls from their Tin Can Alley line with great pleasure, and am totally enamored with their newest line, designed by Donna Karan.   My first assignment was to create a Super Bowl party!  You can view the menu and get all the recipes for this coming-Sunday's game. The menu includes the Apple-Ginger-Pear Martinis (referenced here yesterday), Espresso Bean Chili with all the fixin's, Shrimp Veracruz with brown rice, corn and olives (with a radically simple sauce made by emulsifying jarred salsa with olive oil and fresh lime!), and the most succulent Chicken Wings made with rosemary, lemon and garlic.  Addictive!   Also included in February's food line-up is a menu for the Bridal Registry -- featuring a dinner that both bride and-groom-to-be can enjoy.  No longer are the decision makers only women these days. Guys, too, have strong ideas about what china, glassware and accessories they want.  And you'll notice that my approach skews both traditional and non-traditional -- with ideas such as serving an elegant onion soup with apple cider and thyme in a coffee cup, or serving Chocolate Pousse (somewhere between a pudding and mousse) in a tall, graceful wine glass. Enjoy the recipes from my Super Bowl party!  I hope your team wins.

I Wonder Who's Drinking My Vodka

A few days ago, after a nice enough brunch at Char No. 4 in Brooklyn, I bought a bottle of vodka. Not to replicate the Bloody Mary served at Char -- they make theirs with bourbon and it's great! -- but to test yet another recipe. I had concocted a formula for apple-ginger-pear martinis that made their way into my new cookbook Radically Simple (they take only five minutes to make!), but I needed a hip summer libation for a new project.  My idea was to use hibiscus tea as a base and go from there. After choosing a bottle of pretty cheap vodka in a local liquor store (it still cost $21.00), I sat with it, and my family, in the back of a car service.  It sloshed around as the car moved rapidly through the icy slush from the Heights to the Slope.  So eager to start "cocktail-ing," I high-tailed it to my kitchen and went right for the ice cubes.  "Oh no," I sighed.  "I left the booze in the back seat."  "Someone in New York will soon be drinking my vodka." If it happens to be you (!), here is the recipe for the quite-addictive apple-ginger-pear martinis.  Make them by the pitcher so that you don't need to be shaking and stirring when your guests arrive.  As for the martini made with hibiscus tea, simple syrup, fresh ginger, and lime, I decided to use GIN instead.  Blessings to my husband who reluctantly parted with a few shots of his beloved Old Raj.  It's one of the most expensive on the market -- and definitely one of the best.  Cheers!

Apple-Ginger-Pear Martinis

1-1/2 cups pear nectar (Goya makes a decent one) 2-1/2 cups apple juice 4 limes 4 teaspoons honey* 1-1/4 cups vodka 4-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled

Stir the pear nectar and apple juice together in a pitcher.  Squeeze 6 tablespoons lime juice into the pitcher.  Add the honey and stir until it dissolves. Stir in the vodka.  Grate the ginger on the large holes of a box grater.  Place the grated ginger in a paper towel and squeeze to extract 1 tablespoon juice; add to the pitcher. Stir, cover, and refrigerate until very cold.  Pour into chilled martini glasses or serve over ice.  Garnish with a slice of lime.  Serves 6

*Read yesterday's blog about honey and the upcoming bee event at Stone Barns, just in case you missed it!

Dr. Bee

Honey is the food of bees.  This coming Sunday, at the revered, sustainable eco-food complex Stone Barns (where chef Dan Barber is king), there will be a wonderful talk about bees and an equally wonderful honey tasting.  Led by urbane, urban beekeeper Dale Bellisfield, RN, CH (a noted clinical herbalist and medical practitioner), we (I will be there!) will learn about the medical uses of honey and be guided in the tasting of multiple varieties in a program called Bee M.D.  Honey, in all its glory, from bits of real honeycomb, to the connoisseurship of more than 300 varieties (and perhaps as many as 650 distinct types), is on the hit parade of trends this year. The exploitation of its flavor profiles is slowly becoming part of the new menu language and will soon rival chocolate, or wine, in esoteric discussions of provenance and pedigree.  I, for one, am crazy about wild thyme honey from Sicily, leatherwood honey from Australia, buckwheat honey (in very small doses), and the linden honey I once sampled from Ms. Bellisfield's own hives.  I use it sparingly in my cooking but love its primal uses:  drizzled over pungent blue cheese, stirred into homemade labneh, tossed with blackberries and mint, or dissolved into a bourbon sour.

Honey is an entirely natural food, made up of natural sugars, pollen, protein, minerals and amino acids and, it has a long history.  Cave paintings in Spain depict the practice of beekeeping more than 7000 years ago, and many sources, both cultural and folkloric, demonstrate its use in medicinal and religious practices.  This "food of the Gods" is made by bees using nectar from flowers -- whose flavor, aroma and color can differ dramatically depending on the flowers that the nectar was collected from.  Ergo, there are as many flavors of honey in the world as exists combinations of blossoms in bloom at the same time.  There is major interest right now in single varieties -- such as lavender, acacia, or pine -- and there is much attention given to "fair trade honey."  Much to learn.   See you at Stone Barns.  To sign up go to www.stonebarnscenter.org/bee-md.

In the meantime, here is a favorite recipe of  mine using honey in an unexpected way.  Adapted from Radically Simple: Brilliant Flavors with Breathtaking Ease.

Cappellini with Spicy Fish Sauce Marinara Lemon, fresh ginger, Thai fish sauce, and honey, coalesce into an exceptional marriage of flavors in this quick pasta sauce.  It can double as a fabulous adornment for grilled fish and steak -- just swirl 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter into the finished sauce.

28-ounce can whole tomatoes in puree 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 tablespoon aromatic honey 2 teaspoons Thai fish sauce 3 large garlic cloves 1 lemon slice, about 1/4-inch thick 2 nickel-size pieces peeled fresh ginger 1/4 teaspoon hot pepper flakes 12 ounces fresh cappellini

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Combine the tomatoes and puree, oil, honey, fish sauce, garlic, lemon, ginger, and pepper flakes in a food processor.  Process until very smooth.  Transfer to a large saucepan and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to medium and cook until thick, 8 minutes.  Cook the pasta 1 to 2 minutes until tender. Drain well and shake dry.  Transfer to bowls and spoon the sauce on top.  Grated parmigiano-reggiano, optional.  Serves 4

iMac2

As promised, here is another recipe for macaroni and cheese.  This is an unusual version and healthier than most.  It is also prettier.  This mac-and-cheese is studded with surprise nuggets of cauliflower and its gorgeous bright orange sauce is made from cooked red bell peppers and garlic that get pureed together until silky.  My daughter and her friends like making it because is looks like it's oozing with cheese, but it has much less fat and is more nutritious than the more familiar stuff.  The secret is to use a very sharp yellow cheddar, artisanal if possible.  For dinner, you might partner it with a garlic-and-smoked paprika-rubbed rib-eye steak and open a bottle of shiraz.  Or if you feel like keeping-it-healthy, simply serve with a salad for a radically wonderful weekend lunch. Mac-and-Cheese with Cauliflower and Creamy Red Pepper Sauce 5 ounces very sharp yellow cheddar cheese 2 medium red bell peppers, about 12 ounces 3 large garlic cloves, peeled 1 tablespoon unsalted butter 1 teaspoon honey 1/8 teaspoon chipotle chili powder 8 ounces ziti or penne rigate or elbow macaroni 5 cups small cauliflower florets 3 tablespoons finely chopped chives

Shred the cheese on the large holes of a box grater and set aside.  Cut the peppers in half and remove seeds.  Cut into 1-inch pieces and put in a small saucepan with 1/2 cup water.  Cut the garlic in half, lengthwise and add to saucepan.  Bring to a boil, lower the heat to medium-low. Cover and cook for 15 minutes or until the peppers are very soft.  Transfer the contents of the saucepan, including the water, to a food processor or blender.  Add the butter, honey, chili powder, and salt to taste and process until very smooth.  Return to the saucepan.   Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Add the pasta and cauliflower and cook 12 minutes or until tender.  Drain well and shake until completely dry.  Transfer to a large bowl.  Heat the sauce and pour it over the pasta.  Add the cheese and stir well.  Add salt to taste and sprinkle with chives.  Serves 6

iMac-and-Cheese

Most kids grew up eating Kraft macaroni and cheese and I suppose I had my share.  But my real comfort came from the loving hands of my beautiful Hungarian mother, Marion, who made me cabbage and noodles, instead. Just yesterday, I was given, and then duly paid for, a book by my 8-year old neighbor, Diego.  He wrote FOOD: It's Good Stuff, with a bunch of friends.  It's chock-a-block with illustrations and recipes galore.  One of my favorites -- shark's fin soup -- begins with a whale.  Not everyone has thought of that!  The book is $6.50 ($7.50) if you live in Canada and I'm sure I could get you a copy.  Complete with recipes for ice cream sundaes, "hide-and-seek," and "the crunch of a salad," it is witty and fun.  And, it's a bestselling book!  It says so right on the cover. Yet despite a reference to Steve Jobs and the new iMac with a 3D camera, there is no recipe for mac-and-cheese.  So, here are two complimentary entries (or entrees!) for their next edition.  One of the most radically simple recipes ever created is adapted from my book called Kids Cook 1-2-3.  The second version, comes from Eat Fresh Food: Awesome Recipes for Teen Chefs (both published by Bloomsbury) -- will be available on this site tomorrow.   Dedicated to Diego, today's recipe is now called iMac-and-Cheese.  I hope he enjoys it.

iMac-and-Cheese Due to a surfeit of American cheese in my fridge, I invented this version of everyone's favorite recipe.  You can use familiar elbow macaroni or the less familiar shape called campanelle ("little bells").  If you want this even cheesier, just melt a few more slices of cheese!  If you're a daring kind of kid, you can top it with freshly chopped chives.

4 ounces elbow macaroni 4 ounces American cheese, about 7 slices 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil.  Add the pasta and cook for about 10 minutes, until just tender.  Meanwhile, put 1/4 cup water and the cheese in a medium size saucepan.  Bring just to a boil.  Immediately lower the heat to medium and stir with a wooden spoon until the cheese melts, about 3  minutes.  Add the butter and continue to stir for 1 minute, or until you have a smooth sauce.  Put a colander in the sink and drain the pasta.  Return the pasta to the large saucepan and stir into the cheese mixture.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Stir gently while reheating the pasta.  Serves 2 or 3

Fab Time at Whole Foods

Last night I taught a cooking class at Whole Foods on the Bowery -- the home of a wonderfully compact, but ample, Culinary Center -- equipped with most anything a cook could want (more about that later) and two amazing assistants, Wai Chu and Min Liao.  Wai is an accomplished chef who wrote the definitive book on Asian dumplings, and Min, too, knows her way around a kitchen better than most.  I don't teach often -- after 12 books -- and many such lessons, I choose one venue when a new book comes out.  This time the class was based on Radically Simple: Brilliant Flavors with Breathtaking Ease -- the goal was to demonstrate how restaurant-quality food could be made simply at home -- and in 140 words or fewer!   But as such experiences go, I made a 6-course dinner for a sold-out crowd -- 25 in all, including the lovely person from "Mobile Libris" who came to sell books. I arrived at Whole Foods at 3:45 p.m. and got home at 9:45 p.m.

The menu?  First we played a guessing game.  I made two recipes that I challenged the students to describe.  One was my za'atar pesto into which lavash chips and grape tomatoes were dipped.  One woman guessed (almost).  The second was an intriguing soup based on tomato-vegetable juice with an ample amount of anisette and a soupçon of Thai fish sauce.  It was topped with lightly salted whipped cream and snippets of fresh tarragon.  Everyone loved it and were delighted to learn it can be made in five minutes.  Dinner followed from there:  Chilled Beet Soup with Crème fraiche and Lemon Zest, Tiradito (Peruvian-style sashimi) with a whole lemon-garlic dressing, Scallops on Sweet Pea Puree (with a brown butter-dry vermouth reduction), Salmon with Lime Leaves on Poppy Rice (with coconut-sake sauce and curry oil), Chicken "ras el hanout" with tomato- ginger chutney, and my "little black dress" flourless chocolate cake -- made in five minutes (and only 18 minutes to bake.)   Yep, and it was all radically simple to do.

However, missing items that evening were a standard size food processor and...regular olive oil.  It seems as though Whole Foods carries only extra-virgin olive oil. Curious, I thought, but it is simply not correct to use extra virgin olive oil for everything.  In some recipes, I had to dilute the extra virgin stuff with canola oil (which I never do!) to avoid ruining the taste.  Extra virgin olive oil is not recommended for cooking over high heat and it is far too rich in flavor for several of the more subtle dishes.   And.......I schlepped my food processor from home.

Hope you enjoy the chicken. Everyone did!

Chicken "Ras el Hanout" with Tomato-Ginger Chutney

Juicy and aromatic, this cooks up in no time.  Ras el hanout is a complex, burnt umber-colored spice mixture from Morocco; you may substitute garam masala.

4 very large skinless boneless chicken thighs 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1-1/2 tablespons ras el janout 3 large ripe tomatoes, about 1 pound 1-1/2 tablespoons dark brown sugar 2 large garlic cloves, chopped 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and chopped 1/2 small scotch bonnet pepper 1 teaspoon ground cumin

Preheat the broiler or a ridge stovetop grill pan.  Pound the chicken slightly to flatten so that each thigh lies flat.  Place in a large bowl and add the oil, ras el hanout, and 1 teaspoon salt.  Toss to coat.  Broil or grill the chicken for 4 minutes on each side, until just cooked through.  Cut the tomatoes in chunks and put in food processor with the brown sugar, garlic, ginger, scotch bonnet, and cumin.  Pulse until coarsely chopped.  Add salt to taste and serve atop the hot chicken.  Serves 4

True Confessions

Last night's dinner was a disaster...and I made it!  No kidding.  I am just beginning the recipe-testing phase of a new article for Real Food magazine and am working on the Summer 2011 entertaining issue.  Many magazines work way ahead, and before long, I'll be using the cranberries currently in my freezer (from last November) to do the Thanksgiving feature -- due this summer! The theme of these food stories has been "planning ahead" -- with much of the prep done in advance, and the menu choreographed in such a way so that you, the cook-and-host, can enjoy your own party. This year's do-ahead dinner will include "dry-spiced" flank steak ceremoniously glazed with pomegranate and fragrant thyme.  That was to be last night's family meal.  One of the benefits of writing food stories is that often there is food to eat -- and generally, it's quite good.  If not the first try, then surely the second.  Last night, even the third hit was a miss.  It was enough to make a grown girl cry.  The problem was the pomegranate molasses.  Somehow I thought this would be a good idea, to use just a bit of the tart syrupy elixir and to it add soy sauce, tomato paste, grated red onion, dark brown sugar, fresh bay leaves, and a bit of cumin.  Well, it looked gorgeous and the marinade tasted real good.  But I had a premonition that such a concoction belonged on poultry or pork.  Four hours of marination, and a red-hot sear in a pan, made the meat taste like, well, the only word I can think of is...unknowable.  I scraped off the marinade and tried broiling it.  It was awful.  The third attempt deployed a simpler glaze but with disastrous results.   My family was starving. What to do?  I poured a bottle of chunky red salsa over the whole thing and finished cooking the meat in a 500-degree oven.   "Dinner's ready," I meekly suggested. I carved the steak into thick rosy slices and poured some unusual pan juices over both the meat and the salad that I threw together.   My husband had spent much of  the afternoon roasting an enormous beet.  It was pretty undercooked.  Chewy, in fact.  We cut it up and ate it anyway.  I believe my husband actually called it "Chewish."  And that, my friends, is the end of the story. But here's a yummy thing to do with flank steak.  You can serve it thickly sliced (on the bias) for dinner tonight or wait until the Super Bowl and carve it ever-so-thin on top of slices of toasted baguette -- it's a "he-man" canape and great with beer or martinis.

My Flank Steak “Chimichurri" 2 pounds flank steak 3/4 packed cup chopped flat parsley 1/4 packed cup chopped cilantro 2 tablespoons oregano 2 teaspoons ground cumin ½ scant teaspoon red pepper flakes 2 large cloves garlic, coarsely chopped 1/2 cup olive oil 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar 1 long, thin baguette, about 8 ounces, if using for canapes sea salt

Season meat with salt and pepper. Place all ingredients (except bread) in bowl of food processor. Add 1 teaspoon salt. Process until very smooth.  Coat meat lightly with 2 tablespoons dressing on each side. Let sit 1 hour. Reserve remaining sauce.

(Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Slice bread into 40 thin slices. Place on large baking sheet and bake until just firm, about 5 minutes. Remove from oven.)

Preheat broiler. Place flank steak on broiler pan.  Broil for 4 minutes on each side for medium rare.  Transfer to cutting board.  Let rest 5 minutes.  Sprinkle again with salt.  Cut into thick slices, on the bias, and drizzle with remaining sauce.  Serves 4

Or, if making canapes, slice very thin, against the grain, and place on croutons. Spread each with a little sauce.  Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes about 40