It has been two months since my last post. I’m doing my best to not sink too deeply into the darkness but I must come clean and admit to ordering out way too much this summer and eating mini milky-ways with reckless abandon *crosses myself*. Normal blog operations will resume as soon as we finish moving, I catch up with work, and regain a modicum of common sense. Infinite Hail Marys and three knocks on wood.

In in the meantime, please buy 1 lb black cod, and marinate it overnight in 1/2 cup of sake, 2 tb white miso paste, 1 tb ginger juice, and 1 1/2 ts sugar. Sear on both sides in a screaming hot non-stick pan for a few minutes and serve with citrus ponzu. I promise this will melt in your mouth and render you helpless against it’s savory ways. Oh wicked fish!

{tags summertime miso saki black cod}

“Who stole our camera and took those pictures?” At least that’s what I thought I heard Mr. Melonfish say as he passed by my desk.  Totally beside myself I checked to make sure I didn’t have bananas in my listeners — nope, no bananas.  What do you mean who?  Who do you THINK!  My mind swirled, are my pictures usually crap? What is he saying?  I briefly went hypersensitive insane on him and demanded answers.  He said he meant it as a compliment.  With compliments like that who needs insults!

Maybe this is payback for putting the bacon in the freezer and thus dashing his dreams of an egg sandwich this morning.  Or possibly he’s still holding a grudge from the times I put knives blade end up into the dishwasher forcing him to stab himself.  You would think he’d learn by now.

From whatever displaced place this latent aggression lies and these so called compliments originate, I for one beg his pardon! Since the camera was a gift from Chris in the first place, I really should shut up about it already but it’s much more my style to harp and then silently pout.  On a deeper more esoteric level — I need to make sure gifts of this ilk keep coming my way, so this is officially the end of it.  Snort.

On to the controversial epicenter of this post, Coquilles Saint-Jacques.  The literal translation is ‘the scallops who stopped time’, which as absurd as it sounds, they do.  It’s like in one of those kung-fu movies where time stands still as the fighter moves in slow motion.  Only this scene is in my kitchen and the ninja is calmly eating a scallop instead of flying through the air.  Both equally zen activities in my opinion.

This recipe is all about the sauce for me.  It’s at the same time, rich yet light with a buttery citrus flavor.  I love it and it’s well worth the effort it takes to prepare all the ingredients.  This is not a meal I will soon forget and can’t wait to make it again.

The best way to make this dish is to have all your ingredients ready to go so you can concentrate on the cooking (from Big Small Plates by Cindy Pawlcyn):

For the sauce, saute the garlic until it is fragrant in 2 tb of the butter and one ts olive oil over medium heat.  Add tomatoes and cook until the juices are released and then cooked out.  Season with salt and pepper, add wine, lemon zest, lemon juice,  and cook until the sauce has thickened.

Rinse and pat dry the scallops, season with a little salt and pepper.  Heat a non-stick pan over high heat, add the remaining 1 tb  butter and 1 ts olive oil and sear scallops for about 2 minutes on each side.  Try to just flip them once.

Remove scallops to a plate whole you finish the sauce. Add in the chopped basil and parsley and any juices that have accumulated on the plate where the scallops are resting and cook for another minute.  Serve by spooning sauce onto the plate (If you have scallop shells use those.) and then nestle the scallops in, scatter croutons and small basil leaves on top as the finishing touches.

{tags coquilles saint-jacques scallops in white wine sauce}

Mmm, I know right? Nom nom nom.  Hic. What’s that? Oh Yes, of courshe you can has some.  Here you go, a plate special for you!  I love squid too, in all forms — stuffed, ceviche, stewed, but fried is still my favorite.  This recipe leaves the calamari tender and sweet on the inside and crisp and savory on the outside. I’m warning you; make extra because people will start flocking to your kitchen once they find out what kind of no good you’re up to.

{Just look at these tempting golden bits.}

Here is what you need:

{Rinse each piece inside and out and then drain.}

Combine flour, bread crumbs, salt and pepper in a large bowl.  Beat the eggs and cream together in a separate bowl and mix in the cut up squid.  Dredge the squid in the dry mixture using your hands so each piece is coated.  Heat about 5″ of oil until a test piece quickly bubbles to the top.  In about half cup batches fry the calamari for 2-3 minutes until golden, remove to paper towels to drain.

{Serve with lemon and tarter, cocktail, or marinara sauce and eat them up!}

{tags calamari recipe fresh squid}

They’re hee-ere….not the extraterrestrials, the fava beans.  They are just vegetables after all so don’t worry about them tying you up and holding you hostage or overthrowing the government or anything like that.  Just don’t look them straight in the eyes or they might hypno-bamboozle you flat in your tracks. If they do manage to outsmart you while your cooking, then you had it coming, dummy.  The weirdest part I admit is the googly eyes, I don’t remember that from last year — maybe they’re evolving, rapidly. Scary!

{Just look at them trying to intimidate me on my own porch!  Cigarette butts everywhere — such the riff raff.}

When I lived on the east coast we got Gypsy Moths this time of year. Out here in California we get fava beans (pretty sweet I know).  This recipe would be all wrong with caterpillars though, so for all you New Englanders, nice try but no substitutions.

{I’m so sorry to tempt you with this perfect bite, talk about rude!}

I poached this recipe from my Australian friend Haalo’s blog Cook Almost Anything at Least Once.  Her recipes and photos are always stunning and full of inspiration.  I kept the the ingredient proportions the same only I substituted fava beans, feta, and basil for the original pea, Haloumi, and mint:

Once you have corralled and shucked the wild favas, saute them until they are just tender along with the corn, let cool.  Puree half the veggies until smooth.  Mix together the milk, eggs, flours, baking powder, then fold in the remaining fava beans and corn, feta, basil, salt and pepper.

Heat olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat.  Add heaping tablespoons of the mixture to the pan in batches, pressing down to flatten slightly.  Flip them once when nice and golden and set on paper towels to drain.

{Salty, crunchy, summer-time little cakes…}

The feta is soft and melty and the basil adds a sweet light flavor to the rest of the ingredients.  I loved these crispy little cakes so much I ate them cold at dawn the next day, with my bare hands standing up in the dim glow of the refrigerator’s interior light.

{Eat them on a plate with a fork if you’re the civilized sort.}

{tags fava beans fava bean cakes recipe}

I know a long life noodle from a curse you to an early death noodle any day of the week — and these my friends are like if that pool from the movie Cocoon made noodles too.  Magic.  I also believe in the mighty power of suggestion and all jokes aside, whenever I see these on a menu, it’s one order for me please thank you.  Spring is my favorite time of year for food, everything grows in such abundance that certain vegetables are often harvested when they are young and at their most tender.

Earlier in the week I made some delicious chicken broth using ginger and chilies so when I saw all the sweet organic veggies at the market my mind began to wander, and then all I needed was noodles.  There’s a tiny market nearby that make homemade vermicelli that they don’t cut; it’s simply folded over and then packaged.  Each strand is about three feet long and is so delicately thin that cooking them within a broth is perfect.

{Baby leeks, bok choy & fennel, red chard for color and nutrients, young garlic & ginger, basil, a squeeze of lime, and splash of soy.}

I was craving tofu so I prepared some to add to the noodles:

Slice tofu into cubes and then fry them in about 1/8 inch of peanut oil until just golden and crisp around the edges. Set aside until the noodles are ready.

{Add the tofu just before serving for an extra layer of flavor and texture.}

Here is what I used for life extension du Jour:

Once you have all the ingredients assembled and chopped, this couldn’t be easier to prepare. In a wok, heat a small amount of oil, add all the veggies (except the basil) and stir fry until just tender. Pour in the broth so it’s about 4 inches from the top and bring to a boil.

Add a squirt of the chili sauce, and the noodles. Don’t worry about salt because you’ll add soy to each bowl when you eat. Turn down the heat to a simmer, add a handful of fresh basil, and test the noodles.  They will cook quickly absorbing the broth so test them right away and turn off the heat as soon as they are ready.

{Use as much broth as you like, I wanted extra to slurp up and drink from the bowl.}

Serve each bowl topped with a squeeze of lime, a swirl or soy, a scattering of tofu (remember those?), fresh basil sprigs, and optional extra chili sauce. This was such a delicious Sunday lunch, I think it slowly took me about an hour to eat I was savoring every flavor so much.

Before I go drop off the dry cleaning, Noosh has something to show you:
{It really is the perfect pale pink, wouldn’t you agree?}

One person who could not possibly be less impressed by Noosh and his silly nose, is Max, however.  His duties manning our house’s complex system of faucets occupies most of his time these days.

{Clean paws are a virtue, he’s the foreman, on a miniature fuzzy crusade — ridiculous in his own rite.}

{tags long life noodles spring vegetable noodle recipe}

This is my favorite breakfast, pure and simple.  I’ve tried for years to perfect the soft boiled egg and just cannot get the yolk perfect and ensure the top shell is removed sans those most undesirable shards.  And that the yolk is runny on the inside and jelly around the edges that is easily achieved by poaching.
There’s something comforting about this meal’s raw elegance in that, if for some reason I should wake up in the forest alone and hungry, I’m secure in the fact I could scavenge old bread and an egg from the dwellers there to poach and toast by a sunlit stream.  I’d serve it on dewy leafs to the field mice, burrow owls, and any forest friends awake and hungry.  Here’s what you need for kitchen preparation (ad-hoc wilderness improvisations are up to you of courshe.)

Here is what I do in the luxury of my own kitchen:

In a heavy pan like a La Crueset, fill 3/4 of the way with water, add a pinch of salt, and bring to a mellow boil.  Pour in about 1 tablespoon of white vinegar, and with a spoon, swirl the water around creating a slow whirlpool.  Crack each egg into a bowl and then gently slide into the eye of the swirl.

After about 3 minutes, using a slotted spoon, lift the egg out to check the yolk’s doneness. If it is to your esteemed satisfaction,  lift the poached egg out of the water allowing it to air dry a bit, and then place onto the toast you have prepared and buttered.  You have, haven’t you?!  Finish your masterpiece with some fresh cracked white pepper and crunchy Maldon sea salt.

{tags poached eggs on toast recipe}

When I saw this halibut in the market I couldn’t resist it’s charms.  It’s milky complexion, that sweet saline bouquet, I was powerless to it’s sorcery.  Oh, wicked fish your death was not in vein!  Your icy grave is a throne by which we mortals worship; come with me now — the finest soy derivatives await you!

This is the type of dish I frequently make — two main ingredients and then flavored with what I have fresh and handy. I always have garlic, ginger, limes, and Asian pastes and sauces.  I was craving those flavors anyhow so away I went with my trusty wok.

I ran out Maldon sea salt, which is still on order.  So instead I brought home these pale pink crystalline rock salts. When grated, the lightest of flakes flutter upon your target reminding the food’s flavors to brighten up, just slightly.

{This Himalayan pink rock salt comes with a wee little shaver, aww how cute.}

Prepare the fish:

Lightly salt and pepper the fish, dust the halibut in sweet rice powder, heat the wok over high flames and add about 3 swirls of oil. Once screaming hot add the fish and stir fry for just about 4-6 minutes until it is firm to the touch and the rice flour creates a slight caramelized golden coating around each piece.  Remove from the wok and set into a large serving dish. Leaving the remaining oil in the wok over high heat.

Max says to please prepare the veggies like so — thank you:

Add the ginger and garlic to the hot oil only until it is just golden.

Add broccolini, pinch of white pepper, and stir-fry until the vegetables are bright green and tender.  Squeeze in the juice of 1/2 lime, splash of soy, and 3-4 good splashes of ponzu (however much you like).  Pour the veggies, everything in the wok, over the halibut and enjoy your delicious creation!

This is a simple, yet serious dish where the flavors melded together so nicely that I thought the addition of noodles or rice might disrupt the balance.  I especially love the way the rice flour tightly clings to the fish adding a crispy texture that seemed to seal in the rich juices.

{tags halibut stir-fry broccolini stir-fry}

{I cant resist these, crispy thin charred shallots are the secret ingredient.}

I’ve been sitting on this post for weeks now, it seems I’m paralyzed by my own dim wits and flat can’t get it together. This is it, despite the state of things — it’s going up today.  I do have to admit, covering my face in shame, that I’m deeply entranced by the Big Brother feeds right now.  I can’t look away.  At this point I think I’m just waiting for them to start eating one another and last night I swear I saw cannibalism peek it’s cute little head through the front door before shyly scampering off.  He’ll be back, I’m sure of it and I’d better not miss a thing!

I know this is just too cute, don’t you just want to give it hug?  From one tart to another, trust me on this one.  All the way down to it’s heart print unmentionables, it’s a perfect mix of sweet yet coquettish.

{This crust is extra thin and buttery with the thinnest layers of fig jam and lemon curd baked upon it.}

For the crust:

Prepare a tart pan, the type with the removable bottom, by lightly buttering then flouring it, tapping away any excess and set the oven to 425F. In a food processor, blend flour, sugar, and salt. Add butter and pulse until pastry starts to come together and form clumps. Put the pastry in the tart pan, and using your fingertips, evenly press onto the bottom and up the sides of the pan. Pierce the bottom once with a fork and freeze for 15 minutes. Once chilled, place the tart pan on a larger baking sheet until the crust is golden, about 13-15 minutes. Remove from the oven to cool.

For the adorable cutouts, reserve some of the pastry, roll it out, bake, and then cookie cut some adorable shapes to press into the final layer of jam before the last baking session.

Spread on a layer lemon curd and bake a few minutes to set. Cool and then spread on a thin layer of Adriatic fig jam (if your feeling pretentious), press in your cut-outs, and bake for a few more minutes until set.

Kindly serve with a little lightly sweetened whipped cream for the full experience.

Now for the veggie, chicken, and beef skewers of my dreams.

Prepare the marinade:

Prepare the skewers:

Skewer houseguests, I mean steak, chicken, and veggies separately, brush them with a mixture of olive oil and crushed garlic.  Sprinkle salt and pepper and into a 400F oven until cooked.

I made a dip, with rice would be delicious…

Even he, of the down-turned whiskers, was all tuckered out after all that.

It was also Chris’s birthday last week, here’s a picture of the cake I made.  I couldn’t help but put rainbow sprinkles all over it.  You know what they say, you can take the girl out of Carvel but… well, you know what I mean.

{tags vegetable, beef, and chicken skewers fig jam and lemon curd tart}

Really that’s just Italian for tuna and veal which I am aware doesn’t much sound like creatures that would get along well on a plate or barn or sea.  Sometimes you have to take a chance and this is one of those days.  Like with life, things are going to get worse before they get better.

There is an unlikely and deep involvement with the stinky anchovy to contend with.  And rogue as he may be, this dish would be nothing without his unique brand of social graces.  Along with the aforementioned, you will also enjoy an excruciating task of squeezing the seeds from one million tiny olives.  Just let your mind wander, and one harrowing cup worth of fruit later, you’ll thank me as your thoughts exit the existential to marvel over your yield.

This is my interpretation of a classic dish that is traditionally served cold and is delicious just fine that way.  I changed things a little to how I would like to eat this dish and added an olive mixture for a beloved savory tang element. Now grab your anchovies, I have a feeling you have been neglecting them.  Those stinkers.

{Thankfully before I actually made the sauce I realized I had (gasp!) the green peppercorns out instead of capers.  That would have been extreme disaster!  Everything is okay though, the great capers caper is over, har har. No? Crickets…}

Prepare the tuna sauce first:

Blend all ingredients together until smooth and refrigerate.  Taste to see if you want to add any salt or pepper.  I added just a dash of white pepper.

Pan fry the veal last:

Very lightly sprinkle salt and pepper on both sides of the cutlets.  Lightly dust them with flour making sure to shake off as much excess as humanly possible.  The flour layer should be light and translucent.

Heat a little olive oil, about 1-2 turns around the pan, until hot.  Arrange the veal so nothing is overlapping and fry a few minutes until good and caramelized.  Turn them only once and cook the other side also just until its cooked and some parts are charred.  Remove to a plate and squeeze on a small bit of lemon.

It’s pretty important that you use a mortar and pestle here for the turbulent consistency it imparts.  Start with the anchovies and garlic working that into a smooth paste.  Add the olives and crush until they resemble the picture above. Mix in lemon juice, olive oil, balsamic, and a tiny pinch of salt and pepper.  Refrigerate.

Make the olive dressing second:

We served the veal over Torino Corals, an unusual pasta that was a delicious departure from the norm, and a gift from a friend. A tiny drizzle of olive oil and the corals really held their shape and stood up battle-ready against the tonnato sauce.  A scoop of the black olive dressing finished things off nicely. This must be eaten with a bit of each item on the fork so the flavors fill your mouth.  For this moment on earth, it’s what they are officially meant to do.  I’m sure of it.

{tags veal with tonnato sauce black olive dressing}

This is the most aromatic dish I can ever remember cooking.  When the lemongrass, ginger, garlic, and chilies are sizzling away the most intoxicating  scents filled the house.  I just couldn’t get over it or imagine the taste would live up to this finest of foreshadowing. But did it ever, this was right up my alley and smack on the money for me.  The flavors are vivid and perfectly combined to not overpower one another, it reminded me of the the most magnifiscent Thai meals I still dream of.  In fact, I just went to the store for more chilies so I can make this again tonight.

I can’t take credit for this though, it’s a Gordon Ramsey recipe:.

We ate this both nights with just sliced avocado but the recipe calls for any of the following:

Thankfully, I got my camera back so I was able to take pictures and with a new macro lens too!  Okay, I know bragging is rude but, drooool, the D80 is a thing of beauty.  Now I just have to really figure out how to operate it and take RAW images and develop them in Lightroom.}

Roughly chop the lemongrass, lime leaves, chilies, garlic and ginger, then buzz them together in a processor until finely chopped. Mince the chicken breasts into tiny pieces.

Heat a wok over high heat and add peanut oil and the sesame oil. Add lemongrass mixture and fry briefly before adding the minced chicken, chili powder, and shallots. Stir-fry the chicken about 4 minutes then splash in the fish sauce and lime juice. Turn down the heat a little and allow the sauces to thicken.

Turn off the heat and toss in the herbs. Spoon into the lettuce cups and savor every bite!

The addition of the mint, basil, and coriander at the very end sets this dish apart from other Thai minced chicken dishes I’ve had.  Along with the avocado, the mint sort of snaps with freshness and I’m subtly reminded that spring is the next season in line even on this rainy winter day.

{tags thai chicken salad nikkor 50mmf/1.8d lens}