Tamarind-Cherry Meatballs

Short post today, but I wanted to offer a recipe that puts the tamarind puree I recently posted to good use. These meatballs are really a cinch to make; they're studded with rich, nutty pine nuts, and the sweet-tart sauce, with fresh and dried sour cherries and plenty of tamarind, is downright addictive. The recipe is a combination/adaptation of two recipes, both from Aromas of Aleppo, that beautiful Syrian Jewish cookbook I mentioned in my post on tamarind puree. Sour cherries are done for the season here in DC; if they're over in your area as well, you can substitute frozen sour cherries, available at some grocery stores, or replace the fresh ones with more dried cherries, and add a bit of extra apple cider or wine or even water to compensate for smaller amount of cherry juice.

I served these with saffron rice, which provided both flavor and color contrast to the meatballs. The combination was perfect, and I highly recommend it.

Sour Cherry Meatballs adapted from Aromas of Aleppo

1 pounds ground beef, preferably NOT lean (if lean, add a couple Tbsp. olive oil) 1/2 cup chopped pinenuts a couple sprigs of parsley, leaves removed and chopped 1 1/2 teaspoons allspice, divided 3 onions, diced 1 pound sour cherries or 2 cans/jars pitted cherries, including liquid (NOT pie filling!) 3 tablespoons tamarind puree juice of 1 lemon 1 tablespoon sugar 1 cup red wine 1/2 cup crushed tomatoes 3 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil, divided

Combine beef, pine nuts, parsley, and 1/2 teaspoon allspice in a medium mixing bowl. Using a fork and a light hand, break up ground beef and incorporate other ingredients; do not overmix or press too hard, as you want beef to stay light and airy.

In a medium saucepan, saute meatballs in 2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil over medium heat, until lightly browned, turning gently to brown on all sides. Remove meatballs and set aside.

Using the same saucepan, saute the onions in the remaining tablespoon oil over medium heat until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add liquid from cherries (if fresh, use 1/2 cup water or apple cider instead), lemon juice, tamarind puree, red wine, 1 teaspoon allspice, and crushed tomatoes. Stir to combine; bring to a boil. Add meatballs and cherries back into the pan. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 1 hour, or until sauce has thickened.

Serve hot, either over pita or over saffron rice.

Perfect Blueberry Buttermilk Hotcakes

The NDP kitchen is swimming in blueberries. They were a mere $1.25 a pint at today's market, so I couldn't resist buying just a few 5. I ate half a pint on the way back from the market, because they're so sweet! And I'm a grown up so I can! So there! I'll freeze 2 of the pints, and the other 2 (er, 1 1/2) will work their way into salads and crisps and maybe even some hand pies. After trying Sarah's bourbon peach and sour cherry hand pies at our office bakeoff, I'm dying to try my hand at making them. I'm pretty sure her recipe was from Deb at Smitten Kitchen, and no surprise there -- the crust was perfectly flaky, and the sprinkling of rock-sugar on top of the not-really-sweet crust made all the difference. And those cherries! I'm still mourning the end of sour cherry season, so you'll have to bear with my whining. If anyone sees sour cherries this week, pullease leave a tip on the blog about where one can find them.

But I digress. Because here I go, planning where all my blueberries will find themselves, when in truth I've already put 1/4 pint toward a very noble cause: perfect blueberry hotcakes. I don't make pancakes often, so when I do, I tend toward the luxurious end of the pancake spectrum. My go-to recipe calls for 6 Tbsp. of melted butter that are then incorporated into buttermilk and egg yolks for a tangy, rich batter. Whipped egg whites are folded in just before cooking to lift the batter and make the hotcakes uber-light, and fresh blueberries lend color and zing that contrast perfectly with the sweet, sloshy puddles of maple syrup. These hotcakes were the antidote to my very busy week. If Friday night partying isn't your way to ring in another weekend, let these be the sign that Saturday is finally here.

Perfect Blueberry Buttermilk Hotcakes adapted from Beltane Ranch, via Food and Wine

serves 4-6

Ingredients 1 1/2 cups unbleached flour — I use half whole wheat 2 tsp. baking soda 1/2 tsp. salt 2 cups buttermilk 6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled 2 large eggs, separated and at room temperature 1/4 pint fresh blueberries maple syrup

In a medium bowl, mix flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together buttermilk and egg yolks. Add butter and stir until well incorporated. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir just until combined. Add blueberries and fold into batter to incorporate.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a medium bowl using a hand mixer, whip egg whites until stiff peaks form. Using a rubber spatula, fold in egg whites gently, and stir just until combined.

Heat a lightly buttered castiron or heavy stainless steel skillet over moderately low heat. Using a ladle or a 1/4-cup measure, put two-three pancakes in the pan.

Let hotcakes cook for about two minutes, or until top begins to set around the edges. Flip and cook 1 minute longer, then transfer to a 280-degree oven to keep warm while you cook the rest of these beauties.

Serve with good maple syrup and a big appetite.

Summer Succotash

Round next of my weekday lunch series, where I post about dishes that'll put PB&J to shame.

I love the flavor of buttery, salty, corn on the cob. I love it even more now that I've discovered the sweetest corn ever, from Toigo Orchards. Toigo sets up shop at the Dupont farmers' market; their corn has apparently won "best at the market" several years in a row. The last time I bought it, I was told it was picked the day before; it doesn't get much fresher than that. And having tried other ears, they really don't compare. Some are too starchy, and others have a thick, almost leathery skin around the kernel, whereas Toigo's ears are sweet, the thin-skinned kernels practically bursting with juice.

Having bought quite a few ears last week, I was searching for new things to do with them come week's end. For dinner on Friday night, I served this succotash dish -- a very simple play on that classic Southern staple. It's got the flavor of sweet, salty cob corn but with just a drizzle of olive oil instead of the usual butter. I bulked up the succotash with some chopped green beans, which I left on the raw side, and panfried zucchini, which I essentially seared in a smoking but oil-less castiron pan, then allowed to soften in the serving bowl. The succotash gets a boost from freshly-squeezed lemon juice and a bit of the lemon's zest, but other than that, olive oil, salt, and pepper are its only seasoning. When the produce is this good, you don't want to doctor it up much more than that.

Summer Succotash serves 4

3 summer squash (I used a mix of long yellow squash and stubby green pattypan, but anything will work -- you're going for between 1.5 and 2 pounds.) 3 ears of corn, husks and strings removed, kernels cut from cob 1 lb. green beans, trimmed and cut into thirds 1 lemon 4 tablespoons olive oil

Slice squash on bias into 1/2-inch slices. Heat a large, well-seasoned castiron pan or a nonstick pan over medium-high heat (If using stainless steel, add a bit of olive oil to lubricate.) When pan is very hot, place some of the squash slices in the pan in a single layer and cook until browned, about 3 minutes. Flip and repeat with flip side, 3 minutes more. Sprinkle liberally with sald, then transfer to a large non-reactive bowl; squash will not feel completely soft, but they will soften as they sit. Continue cooking squash in batches until all slices have been cooked.

Next, add 2 Tbsp. olive oil to pan, and add corn. Cook, stirring constantly, about 1 minute; salt, and transfer to bowl with squash. Add remaining 2 Tbsp. olive oil and green beans to pan; cook about 1-2 minutes, salt, and transfer to bowl.

Stir vegetables until well-distributed. Grind some fresh black pepper into the bowl, and zest and squeeze the lemon overtop. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Classic Mac and Cheese

As you all know by now, D's made lots of culinary concessions for the sake of our relationship. In the four-plus years we've been together, she's become someone who appreciates good food far more than I ever thought she would. So this past week, I felt inspired to acknowledge that by taking a couple of steps in her direction and finally trying my hand at macaroni and cheese.

I've been meaning to make mac and cheese for quite some time. After seeing Ina Garten make it several months ago on her FN show, Barefoot Contessa, I knew it wouldn't be difficult to make. Then I saw that show rerun like four or five times (ok, Ina, I get it!) and decided to give it a go. The method is simple: heat flour and butter to make a roux. Add milk and mix to combine, then continue stirring until the milk is thickened. Add lots of cheese, stir until it melts, then incorporate cooked and drained macaroni. Optional step: transfer macaroni to a gratin, add some very optional tomato slices, top with buttered bread crumbs, and broil until bread crumbs are golden and crunchy.

In terms of cheese, the sky's the limit. Ina (she's so congenial, I can't help but feel like we're on a first-name basis) recommends a mix of cheddar and gruyere, which is probably ideal. I didn't have gruyere around so I used just Cabot white cheddar, and I liked the final result -- but the sharpness of gruyere would go very nicely with the hit of nutmeg in Ina's recipe. On one of her shows, Ina uses part gorgonzola or other blue cheese for an added layer of complexity. Me? I like my blue cheese in small portions, so I'd skip, unless blue cheese is really totally your thing.

Though I bet the tomatoes would provide a much-needed hit of juiciness and freshness amid the layers of cheesy pasta, I was making this for a lover of all things traditional and someone who takes her mac and cheese very seriously (she boasts a long repertoire of restaurants whose mac she's tried and critiqued; for those in DC, I think her faves are Napoleon, on Columbia road, where a side will set you back a mere 5 bucks, and Belga Cafe, where the mac is truffled (!) and not too goopy.) In any event, I'd definitely have used the tomatoes otherwise and would blindly recommend that you do the same. In terms of servings, I halved this recipe and baked it in an 8x8, and it served 4+, so make adjustments accordingly.

Macaroni and Cheese adapted from Ina Garten, via Food Network

Kosher salt 1 pound elbow macaroni or cavatappi 1 quart milk 8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, divided 1/2 cup all-purpose flour 12 ounces Gruyere, grated (4 cups), or sub out for cheddar or other melty cheese 8 ounces extra-sharp Cheddar, grated (2 cups) 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 3/4 pound fresh tomatoes (4 small), optional 1 1/2 cups fresh bread crumbs (5 slices, crusts removed)

Directions Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Drizzle oil into a large pot of boiling salted water. Add the macaroni and cook according to the directions on the package, 6 to 8 minutes. Drain well.

Meanwhile, heat the milk in a small saucepan, but don't boil it. Melt 6 tablespoons of butter in a large (4-quart) pot and add the flour. Cook over low heat for 2 minutes, stirring with a whisk. While whisking, add the hot milk and cook for a minute or two more, until thickened and smooth. Off the heat, add the Gruyere, Cheddar, 1 tablespoon salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Add the cooked macaroni and stir well. Pour into a 3-quart baking dish.

Slice the tomatoes and arrange on top. Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, combine them with the fresh bread crumbs, and sprinkle on the top. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbly and the macaroni is browned on the top.