Edamame with some Latin flair

Edamame rarely find their way into my kitchen, and I really don't know why. They're a perfect addition to salads, an easy and elegant appetizer, and a perfect snack, but I can't think of the last time I bought them. No, really, I don't think I've every bought them. The ones in these pictures were leftover from my birthday party. Dina, another one of the birthday girls, made this easy recipe and I've been trying to figure out how to recreate it ever since.

See, Dina used sesame oil and this wonderful spice blend called Tajin; but she got the Tajin from Mexico, and it's not like I get to Mexico so often. (Update: in true American style, this stuff sells on Amazon for under four bucks; click here or on the link above to purchase. It's well worth a try.) In advance of posting this recipe, I attempted to recreate tajin with what I had around, and while I came pretty close, there are definitely some secret ingredients in the real thing that make it different. I used hot chili pepper, lime juice, and sea salt, which is a pretty good combo. And really, this recipe couldn't be easier -- or more addictive -- so give it a try.

Edamame

• 1 package edamame
• about 1/8 cup sesame oil, or even less
• tajin, or a mix of 2 Tbsp. chili flakes, 6 Tbsp lime juice, and 1 1/2 Tbsp. sea salt

Cook edamame according to package directions, until cooked through but still green. Transfer immediately into ice bath so that they keep their color. Transfer to a large bowl; toss with sesame oil to coat, and sprinkle with tajin to taste. Serve immediately. (They keep quite well in the fridge, for up to 2 weeks.)

Shakshuka

To say I love shakshuka is both a huge understatement and slightly misleading. How's that? Well, I more than love shakshuka; it's one of my absolute favorite breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, and hell, snacks. When D and I can't agree on what to put in the omelet or pancakes, I just say "shakshuka?" and everyone shuts up. (Usually.)

However, I like shakshuka my way. And my way is... well, my way is delicious, but it's not really shakshuka. Traditional shakshuka is an Israeli dish comprising sunny-side-up eggs in a spicy, onion-y tomato sauce. That's how I make it for D, but not for me. Please don't yell or scream or call me a fake foodie, but I don't like runny eggs. I know they're delicious and wonderful and life-changing for many-a-gourmet, but I'll have my eggs rubbery as leather and burnt on the outside, thank you very much. Scoff if you must.

Shakshuka is easily fixed to my liking: about 2/3 of the way through the cooking process, after the egg has developed what know-it-alls call a skin, I go at it with a fork and break up the scary bits of ooziness into the sauce. Some of it mixes in with the sauce, and some stays separate; the end result is a bit of scrambled egg in a fantastically thick tomato sauce. And a happy Rivka.

Until yesterday, I'd been making shakshuka with whatever tomato sauce I had lying around and few, if any, additions. However, recently I took a field trip during my lunch break to Penzey's Spices (only the best freakin' spice shop ever ever ever, in my humble opinion. But don't trust me -- just ask the experts.) Among my treasures was a bottle of aleppo pepper, which has got a nice bite, lovely fruity and floral aromas, and an addictive flavor. I added some to my shakshuka this morning and will be doing so from now on -- it was a wonderful addition to an already great dish! If you don't have aleppo pepper just lying around your house, tsk tsk. Kidding. Just use some other chili flakes or powder, or skip it entirely; it's hard to make shakshuka taste bad.

Shakshuka

• 2 eggs
• 2 cups tomato sauce
• 2 Tbsp. chopped onion or shallot
• 1/4 tsp. aleppo pepper
• 1 Tbsp. olive oil
• salt

In an omelet pan, sweat the onion in the olive oil over medium heat until translucent, stirring constantly, about 1 minute. Try not to let the onions burn -- though if they brown a bit it's no biggie.

Add the pepper and toss to coat; add the tomato sauce all at once, have an apron on so that it doesn't pop all over you, and stir to incorporate the onions.

Crack the eggs, one by one and side by side, into the tomato sauce. Turn up the heat to medium high. Cover the pan with a piece of tin foil or a larger pan. Leave be for a minute.

When you uncover the pan after a minute or so, you'll notice that the eggs have started to develop a skin; if you prefer your shakshuka cooked incorrectly, as I do, start to break up the yolks with a fork and stir into the sauce. Otherwise, just leave them as they are. Use a spatula or fork to scrape the burnt bits of sauce from the bottom of the pan.

After about 4 minutes, your eggs should be fully cooked and salmonella free. Traditionally, the shakshuka would be brought to the table in the pan, and people would scoop portions onto their plates there. Alternatively, scoop one egg and a fair amount of sauce onto each person's plate, and serve good, crusty bread alongside.

Dulce de Leche

Imagine a creamy, rich, brown caramel made from the simplest of ingredients -- milk and sugar -- and involving little more than a pot of boiling water and a couple hours. Hard to believe, but the best way to make dulce de leche is also the easiest way. And tell me you're not salivating as you eye the caramel I've got sitting in a jar in my fridge. This stuff is to die for, people.

Ingredients: 1 can sweetened condensed milk. Special equipment: 1 big, tall pot and lots of water

Peel the label of the can of sweetened condensed milk. Do not open the can. Fill the pot with water so that the water level covers the can by at least an inch. Plunk the can into the pot to check, then remove. Set the pot over high heat and bring to a boil; once the water is boiling, add the can, and turn the heat down to medium high, bringing the water to a simmer. The can should be standing on one side, not rolling around. Now, I noticed that the can tends to make a lot of noise as the bubbles from the boiling water try to escape from beneath it. One trick, if you happen to have two pairs of tongs lying around, is to prop the can on a tilt by sticking a small ball of tin foil underneath it. This stops the noise. Leave the can in the simmering water for at least 2 hours (longer for a firmer caramel -- I left it in for 3), and make sure to replenish the water as often as you need to in order to keep the water level above the can. I had to add about a cup every half hour to 45 minutes.

When 2 hours (or your desired cooking time) have elapsed, turn off the heat and leave the can in the water for at least half an hour, to cool slightly. If you were to remove it immediately, the heat inside the can would overpower the air pressure surrounding it, and it would explode.

After 30-45 minutes, remove the can with tongs; if it's not too hot to touch, you can open it with a can opener. Dulce de leche will start oozing out as you open the can, and you should feel free to -- ahem -- clean it up. With your fingers. And then try it. Gaahhh it's so good :)

Teriyaki Tofu with Brussels Sprouts and Soba

I've been on a tofu hiatus lately. Its estrogen-mimicking qualities had me a little nervous, and I hadn't been craving it much anyway, so I took a tofu timeout. Then I was at the whole foods near work and some baked pressed tofu caught my eye. I can't remember the brand, but it's the kind that comes in thai, teriyaki, and lemon-pepper flavors. I usually buy regular organic extra firm tofu, and do the pressing and marinating myself. But don't kid yourself -- that process takes time. Ideally, you'd put the tofu in a bowl, cover it with a paper towel, rest a heavy can on top, and let the liquid drain out over at least half an hour. Then you'd marinate the tofu for half an hour more, replacing the plain liquid with flavor. But whole foods, the blessing that it is, carries ready-made-and-marinated tofu for only eighty times the price! Actually, this stuff was under 2 bucks -- not bad at all.

With the tofu flavored and ready to go, I was able to make this entire meal, start to finish, in 23 minutes. People, that's faster than our not-so-favorite thirty-minute-meal star. And it was delicious to boot! Even D thought so.

As always, I used what I had in the fridge, which last Tuesday night amounted to ten brussels sprouts. Feel free to substitute cabbage, bok choy, peppers, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, spinach, you name it. Just be sure not to overcook the soba; they're best when they still have a little bite to 'em.

Teriyaki Tofu with brussels sprouts and soba serves 3-4

• 1 block tofu (I used pre-marinated and baked, but feel free to start from scratch; I've included my teriyaki marinade recipe below.)
• ten brussels sprouts or about 2-3 cups of any other vegetable
• 2 cloves garlic, sliced
• 1/2 an onion, sliced
• Olive oil
• 1/3 pound soba noodles (about half a package or a bit more)
• salt and pepper
• 1/2 cup teriyaki marinade (recipe below)

1. If tofu is not pre-marinated, follow my instructions above to drain and then marinate the tofu.Then chop tofu into a large dice.
2. Cook soba in well-salted water, according to package directions. do not overcook. Drain over the sink, rinse with cold water to stop cooking, and set aside.
3. chop brussels sprouts into 4-5 slices each, then break into layers with hands.
4. Over medium-high heat, add olive oil to a saute pan and when hot but not smoking, add tofu to the pan. Do not disturb much; turn each cube of tofu just once or twice, letting each side cook a good 2-3 minutes. This will develop a nice crust on the tofu. When tofu is browned on all sides, drain on a plate lined with paper towels. Set aside.
5. Add another Tbsp. of olive oil to the same pan, and toss in garlic and onion. Let cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly, and then add brussels sprouts. Toss the mixture for about 3-4 minutes, until sprouts are cooked but still firm, and start adding teriyaki sauce by the spoonful, tossing to coat the sprouts.
6. When you've added a few spoonfuls of the sauce, add the tofu back into the pan and toss quickly to coat with the sauce. Add more if needed.
7. To plate: first arrange soba on the bottom of the plate; then add sprouts and tofu on top. Pour extra sauce overtop, if desired. Toss around to mix, and eat!

Teriyaki Marinade adapted from The Bold Vegetarian Chef

• 3 Tbsp. apple cider or sherry vinegar
• 2 Tbsp. toasted sesame oil
• 2 Tbsp. mirin
• 1 Tbsp. soy sauce
• 2 Tbsp. cane sugar or brown sugar
• 4-5 dashes Tabasco sauce or 2-3 shakes of chili flakes
• 1 Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
• pepper
• 1/4 cup olive or vegetable oil

combine all ingredients and stir or whisk to combine.
1. uh, yea. That's it!