Apple-Manchego Salad with Roasted Garlic Dressing

Since Adi was born, we've been the extremely lucky beneficiaries of meals that our friends have prepared and delivered to us a few times each week. While I've managed to cook and bake a few things, the opportunities tend to come in very short spurts: 30 minutes of down time in the morning means I can put up a bread dough or simmer some lentils, and if I'm lucky, I get an hour of quiet in the afternoons to bake off that bread or season those lentils. Lunch time isn't downtime, though, so I often find myself reaching for a few apple slices and a hunk of cheese from the fridge, just enough to tide me over. I've got a bag of mixed nuts and raisins that I keep on the side table where I nurse, and I'd say I polish off that bag and call it lunch more often than not.

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There was a time when apples and cheese weren't just snacks to grab on the go. We're part of a wine club, which meets once a month for wine tasting and a dinner, cooked by the host, to match the wine. Before the babe was born, my brother- and sister-in-law Adam and Julie hosted an evening of Rioja tasting, and Julie made an absolutely bang-up meal to go with the wine, riffed on tapas she'd eaten at restaurants around town. Pretty much everything on the table was a standout, but one recipe in particular has become a staple in our house ever since: a simple, addictive apple salad with shavings of manchego cheese, buttery marcona almonds, and roasted garlic dressing.

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It feels like cheating to even call this a salad, especially in a week where everyone's resolving to eat more kale. There isn't a leaf in sight: apples are the star of the show. On a couple occasions, I've sliced a small wedge of fennel bulb into the salad, but honestly, it's best when the apples do the job alone.

The dressing is a big part of the genius behind this recipe: you poach garlic in olive oil until soft, then blend the oil and garlic into a smooth emulsion that serves as the base for the dressing. I find that this works best when done in larger quantities, since the olive oil and garlic can fill the bottom of the pan. Conveniently, I eat this salad frequently enough that it serves me well to have a jar of garlic oil dressing ready to go in the fridge. If you're so inclined, double or triple the dressing recipe so that if, as I can pretty much guarantee, you love this salad, you can make it again in a jiffy.

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One last recommendation: If you're eating it alone (as I so often do), get yourself a nice, hefty bowl. Salads are so much happier when the key players have room to mingle. Don't suffocate the poor thing with a tiny dish.

And eat this salad with people you really like. Those seven cloves of garlic aren't kidding.

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Apple-Manchego Salad with Roasted Garlic Dressing
Lightly adapted from a recipe in Mercury News

Notes: As I mentioned above, I often double the dressing and keep the extra in the fridge. It goes well on pretty much any salad; it’s also lovely drizzled over warm goat cheese or as a marinade for chicken.

Marcona almonds are a Spanish almond that’s sold blanched and roasted. Their rich, buttery flavor is totally different from the almonds we’re used to eating, so you should go to the trouble of procuring them for the salad. (The good news is they’re available at Trader Joe’s.) If you can’t find them, roast almonds in a bit of olive oil and salt until golden and fragrant.

For the dressing:
7 medium garlic cloves, peeled
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar (or substitute apple cider vinegar)
1 tablespoon chopped shallots
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

For the salad:
6 large Granny Smith apples
Juice from 1 lemon
3 tablespoons chopped chives
3 ounces manchego cheese, shaved with a vegetable peeler, divided
1 1/4 cups marcona almonds

Make the dressing: In a small saucepan, combine garlic cloves and olive oil over medium heat. Cook until garlic has softened and started to turn golden around the edges, about 5 minutes. The smaller the pan, the better – you want the garlic nearly submerged in the oil. Sometimes I set the pan onto the burner tilted, so the garlic and oil gather in one corner and the garlic is fully submerged. Either way, make sure not to burn the garlic; reduce the heat if garlic sizzles a lot or seems to be cooking too quickly.

Blend garlic and oil in small processor or using immersion blender, until smooth. Add vinegar, shallots, salt, and pepper; stir to combine.

Make the salad: Using a knife or a mandoline with a matchstick attachment, julienne the apples into matchsticks about 1/3-inch thick, or simply slice apples thinly. Combine apple slices with the juice of one lemon, which prevents the apples from browning.

If serving family style, combine all salad ingredients in a large bowl, reserving a pinch of chives and a small handful of almonds. Dress the salad, starting with just enough dressing to coat, and adding to taste. Toss; top with remaining chives and almonds.

If plating, combine everything but the almonds in a bowl, dress as above, and plate before sprinkling almonds over each portion.

Curried Carrot Apple Soup

In the weeks leading up to Adi's birth, I started baking and cooking food intended entirely for the freezer. If I'm being honest (and inviting you all to take some jabs at my sensibilities), some of what I stowed away was a bit...frouffy: butternut sage scones and carrot bran muffins, for the absurd but oh-so-likely future occasion that I need to throw a brunch together at the last minute; embarrassingly large quantities of cookies (NYT chocolate chip and chocolate gingerbread and snickerdoodles, I know you're curious) because nursing is really hard, and after a long day of rather painfully feeding my babe, I need to feed myself and you know what? These days, that involves a cookie.

Not that cookies aren't a practical choice, but I can assure you that in plotting what would occupy my precious freezer real estate, I did consider courses other than dessert. I've frozen small bags of chicken stock to have on hand for easy rice or vegetable dishes, and I even froze some of Lisa Fain's fantastic seven-chile chili. which I make precisely once a year. But most of what I froze in the non-brunch, non-dessert department consisted of soup. And since we've now had the chance to defrost a couple of containers for no-thinking-required dinner, I can tell you that this curried carrot-apple number has proven a clear favorite.

The recipe comes from Food and Wine,  which I once made time to read. (These days, I barely get through a Saveur before the next one arrives.) I love this soup: its pungency and spice are tempered by plenty of sweetness from carrots, apples, and a brilliant secret ingredient: gingersnaps. While the recipe calls for chicken stock, I used water and was quite happy with the results. I also shortened the ingredient list, because vegetable soup mustn't call for one of every single winter vegetable. Skipped fennel, added more leek. Skipped fussy garnish in favor of a simple spoonful of yogurt. Wasn't sad.

The soup went into the freezer perfectly smooth. It separated a bit while defrosting, but that resolved itself once I heated up a bowlful.

These days, the mornings fly by, and then I realize that suddenly it's 1:30 and I haven't thought about lunch. This soup's been a lifesaver. The fact that it's delicious? Well, that's icing on the cake.

One year ago: Gingerbread Oat Waffles and Maple Cardamom Marshmallows
Two years ago: Cocoa Rye Raisin Bread and White Hot Chocolate with Warm Spices
Three years ago: Leek Latkes and the best, easiest tomato soup ever
Four years ago: Kohlrabi and Apple Slaw and Pasta with Eggplant Sauce
Five years ago: Hazelnut Shortbread and Brown Butter Cauliflower
Six years ago: Apricot-Stuffed French Toast and Great Homemade Granola
Seven years ago: Chocolate Pretzel Cookies and oh, look! another Carrot Soup

Curried Carrot-Apple Soup
Adapted from Food and Wine

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium onion, chopped
2-4 medium leeks, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise
Salt and pepper
2 pounds carrots, coined
1 1/4 pounds celery root, peeled and chopped
1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
7 small, crunchy gingersnap cookies (about 1 cup), plus extra crumbled for garnish, optional
1 tablespoon curry powder
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 teaspoon finely grated peeled fresh ginger
leaves from 2 thyme sprigs or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
2 quarts stock or water
1 cup sour cream or yogurt, plus more for serving
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
fresh nutmeg, for serving, optional

Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion, leek, and generous pinches of salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just starting to brown, about 10 minutes. Add the carrots, celery root, apple, gingersnaps, curry powder, garlic, ginger and thyme and cook, stirring, until the carrots and celery root soften slightly, about 10 minutes. Add the stock or water and bring to a boil, then simmer over moderate heat until the vegetables are very tender, 25 minutes.

Working in batches, puree the soup in a blender (regular blender is best, but immersion blender will also work) with the sour cream/yogurt and vinegar until smooth. Taste, and season with salt and pepper as needed. Serve with a dollop of yogurt and an optional (but very lovely) dusting of freshly grated nutmeg or some crumbled gingersnaps.

Thanksgiving.

In a cliche to end all cliches, thanksgiving came early for us this year.

Our little Adi was born Saturday before the holiday. She came into the world with a super-alert gaze, a chill, lovely disposition, and a full head of hair. Needless to say, we're over the moon.

We've spent the past few weeks offline, adjusting to the rhythms of parenthood. I keep thinking back to the Friday night dinner we hosted back in early November, where I made Peking duck, and that last apple pie I made the week before I went into labor. Both feel like they happened eons ago. Now there's a tiny human in our house, and we're responsible for her. It's all quite surreal.

To our great fortune, my brother- and sister-in-law also ensured that we had Thanksgiving of the more traditional variety. There was turkey, stuffing, kale, green beans, brussels sprouts, sweet potato casserole, gravygravygravy, cranberry sauce, and more pies and cakes than I had time to inventory. Loving, eager hands held and passed Adi all night; she cooperated perfectly. And when we had to leave rather abruptly, our wonderful family sent us home with a huge bag of leftovers to sustain us through the weekend. I even managed to secure a piece of gingerbread chocolate cake for the road.

Friends, I have so many recipes to share with you. If you'll be patient, I'll try to work through them over the next few weeks. The days (and nights!) are rather unpredictable, but they're growing less so. And to my great surprise, my desire to cook hasn't really faded since I gave birth. Time is in shorter supply and comes in small spurts, but I've managed to squeeze in a bit of cooking and baking between feeds and burps and whatnot. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, happiest of holidays to all of you. Enjoy this lovely time of family and friends. See you back here in a bit with a recipe or two. xo.

Any-Chile Hot Sauce + Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Practical Pantry

These past few weeks can be summed up as an epic attempt to fill our freezer with as much ready-to-eat food as possible. I've frozen unbaked scones in little zip-top bags. I've filled about ten containers with Persian beef-rice stew and carrot-ginger soup and plenty of chicken stock. I've even baked and frozen whole loaf cakes, to defrost for unexpected company. A couple hours this morning and a long day in a low oven produced a batch of Lisa Fain's chili, which is officially in the freezer.  Still on the cooking wishlist: This lovely eggplant tagine from Blue Apron, which my friend Rachel raved about and for which I have procured all the ingredients. (Stay in, baby, just a little bit longer!). Previously on the wishlist: cookie dough (rolled into balls and frozen unbaked, you know, for emergencies). It was a nice-to-have, but then I woke up at 5 and couldn't fall back asleep and, well, the cookie dough happened. Thanks, kiddo.

But the whole cook-to-fill-the-freezer thing isn't new. In truth, my attempts to fill our pantry began back in late summer, when I got to sneak a peek at the galleys of my dear friend Cathy's book.

Do you know Cathy? She is Mrs. Wheelbarrow, canner, cheesemaker, charcuterie queen, and general goddess of the larder. She was one of the earliest contributors to my beloved Food52, and has penned some of my favorite recipes on the site. She teaches cooking classes out of her home, where I've learned to make canned tomatoes, salsa, and all sorts of other canned goodies, as well as goat cheese, feta, and even Camembert. She's also a hostess extraordinaire, and I've been lucky enough to attend many wonderful parties courtesy of her and her husband, Dennis.

Now, after years of blogging, posting on Food52, and writing for Washington Post, New York Times, and more, Cathy's finally got her own corner of the universe: a book, Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Practical Pantry.

To give you a sense of this book's utility, here's a list of some of the things I've made so far: strawberry jam. Tomato sauce. Tomato soup. Grape jelly. Salt-water pickles. Fennel-orange-olive pickles. Marinated artichoke hearts. (Amazing.) Blackberry-hazelnut conserve. Asian plum chutney. Peach-rosemary jam. Since I'm doing this from memory, I'm probably forgetting a few. You get the point: this book has been my constant companion through summer and fall. If you come over this year and I serve you something delicious from a jar, chances are the recipe for it came from Cathy's book.

But here's the best part: This isn't just a preserving book. While the canning and preserving recipes sit at the center, Cathy offers a slew of "bonus" recipes that put your jars to use. A rugelach recipe made with her jam, tortilla lasagna made wither chile-spiked tomatoes, and my personal favorite, inside-out samosas to serve with her fantastic mango chutney. Even if you're not big on canning, you'll find plenty to cook, and cook again, in the Practical Pantry.

What most sets Cathy's book apart is its fearless approach. Cathy is first and foremost a teacher: She wants you to feel her excitement when there's a deal on second tomatoes or bruised peaches, and armed with this book, you will. You will jump to grab that big bag of $2 chiles, the long, slender box of "basil for pesto," the bushel of assorted spot-filled apples. You will lug the spoils home, and you will know exactly what to do with them.

Those chiles, for instance, easily become a tangy, slightly sweet hot sauce that you can either can and shelve, or tuck in the fridge and eat immediately. (On everything.) To suit your mood, Cathy offers three different ways to make it: with raw chiles, charred, or smoked.

I first made this hot sauce at one of Cathy's classes. I got hooked pretty much instantly, and I've made it several times since. The recipe has changed a bit since I first encountered it, in one of Cathy's stapled cooking class handouts; not surprisingly, it's even better now.

In case it's not obvious what I think you should do, here it is: make this hot sauce. Buy this book. Then take it to bed one night, read it cover to cover, and bring some sticky tabs, because the next day, you're going to want to buy everything from the market, and cook this book from front to back.

Congrats, Cathy. It's gorgeous.

Cathy Barrow's Any-Chile Hot SauceFrom Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Practical Pantry Makes 16 ounces

For canning purposes, Cathy recommends jarring this in 4-oz. portions. Since I didn't can this latest batch, I just stored it in a big 8-oz. jar in the fridge.

1/2 pound fresh hot chiles of any kind (red are prettiest; any work with this recipe) 1 cup (8 ounces) white or apple cider vinegar 3 large garlic cloves 1/2 tablespoon kosher salt 2 tablespoons honey 1 1/2 tablespoons minced dried pineapple 1/2 tablespoon minced dried mango 1/4 teaspoon Coleman's dry mustard pinch ground ginger

Prep the chiles: to use them fresh, carefully stem and roughly chop them. Gloves are helpful here. Alternatively, you can char them in a heavy skillet or griddle over high heat for 6-8 minutes, until blistered all over. Then put them in a bowl, cover, and let steam for 1 hour. Stem and roughly chop (again: gloves). Last option is to smoke them using an electric smoker. Cathy recommends 30 minutes. Stem and chop.

Make the sauce: Combine vinegar, garlic, and salt in a large jar. Shake and swirl to dissolve the salt. Add chiles, cover, and leave on the counter overnight to brine.

Transfer the contents of the jar into a 1.5-quart non-reactive (not copper or aluminum) pot. Add honey, fruit mustard, and ginger. Cover and bring to a strong boil for 3 minutes. Beware of the fumes - you may want to wear a mask for this part.

Puree the sauce in a blender in batches, filling the container only halfway in each batch to avoid explosions. Run your blender long enough to ensure that the sauce is completely smooth.

Press the mixture through a fine-mesh strainer into a bowl. If you find large pieces of chile or garlic in the strainer, you can re-run them through the blender.

Return the sauce to the pot, bring back up to a boil, and boil for 5 minutes. Do not lean over the pot and smell it while this happens - you will regret it. Instead, dip a small spoon into the pot and then taste just a drop. If you want it sweeter or saltier, now is the time to add more honey and/or salt.

When your sauce is ready, either ladle it into sterilized, warm jars leaving 1/2-inch of headspace and process for 10 minutes in a boiling-water bath, or just ladle it into a big jar (preferably with a spout, but not necessary) and store in the fridge.

The sauce is shelf-stable for 1 year when canned, but it may separate; shake well before using.