Crispy Apple Skins

My friend Jeremy, an excellent cook and compost expert, is back to tell us about a fantastic new chef's snack to make the most of Thanksgiving prep. We made them last night, and...well, it's a good thing I snapped a picture immediately. They're gone.

You'll make these once and never think of peeling an apple the same way again. Seriously.

Thanksgiving is upon us -- Hanukkah, too! -- and if you haven't already done so, there's a good chance that "make apple sauce" is on your to-do list for between now and Thursday. Trust me. When you make that apple sauce, you're going to want to make these dead-simple little treats, too.

Ingredients:

apple skins (any variety) spice of your choice

Steps:

Cover a baking sheet with foil. Preheat your oven to 275 degrees. Make sure your apples are washed and dried.

When you peel your sauce apples, move the peeler from the stem to bottom of the fruit. Press a little harder than you ordinarily might, so as to capture a little bit of the apple's meat along with the skin. You should end up with strips of apple 3/4"-1" wide and 3-4" long, depending what apples you're using.

Lay the skins on the sheet, skin side down, in one layer, with at least a little separation between skins. Leave as is, or sprinkle lightly with whatever spices you like: my kids love cinnamon, my wife and I love cayenne. Experiment!

That's it. Stick 'em in the oven, and check in on them in a half hour so. The skins should be starting to curl up into little straws. Pull them out when they've curled enough to feel rigid, but haven't yet started to brown, usually 40-45 minutes total. Take note: they won't be crispy yet. Use your fingers to gently knock the skins off the baking sheet and onto a cooling rack. They'll crisp up almost immediately as they start to cool, and be ready to eat in just a few minutes!

There are a bunch of reasons I love these things, beyond the fact that they're delicious. For starters, they're super easy. They come out perfectly crispy every single time, and the crunch you get when you bite into it is extraordinarily satisfying. They're 100 percent good for you. And maybe my favorite part? They reduce waste and create food in one yummy little package!

I'm a sustainability entrepreneur (shameless self promotion: Compost Cab), and I can't help think that we might be onto something here. In fact, I kind of want to market these as a healthy snack for kids-of-all-ages called Apple Skinz. That's right -- they're so good I want to sell them at Whole Foods. Who's with me? Make them for yourself, then let's talk!

Thanks to Rivka and NDP for giving me a space to share this gem. Wishing everyone a peaceful and meaningful Thanksgiving, and if there are candles in your future, a very happy Hanukkah!

Grape-Cornmeal Snacking Cake

Snacking cakes and I go way, way back. Our long history revolves mostly around languid summer Saturday afternoons, when lunch has long passed but dinner seems far away. Company is still over, we're all sitting around a table, there are crumbs everywhere and half-empty cups of ice coffee with mostly-melted ice dribbling down the sides. But trust, there is snacking cake.

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Summer has faded into fall, but that hasn't stopped snacking cake from sticking around. I happened upon this specimen, plump with concord grapes, when looking for my usual focaccia recipe. Fortunately, with so many different kinds of grapes at the market, my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and I bought them all. That left me with enough for two focaccias plus this cake.

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Right upfront, let me tell you that this cake bears a striking resemblance to cornbread. (If that's not your jam, perhaps you'll love this other snacking cake, my personal favorite.) It isn't cornbread, per se: it's a bit lighter and, well, cakier than your typical cornbread. But the genius touch here is the honey, which gets drizzled in but not fully mixed. The result is a thin thread of sweetness throughout the cake. The grapes on top also are key: they add some very important moisture, and when you bake the thing, they get plump and just shy of jammy.

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Another honest moment: this cake is best when it's just out of the oven. If you're planning to bake it in advance, you'll be far more enamored if you tuck it into the oven for one last spin before serving. You want those grapes warm, that crust crisp and steaming. Now that it's fall, languid Saturday afternoons have plenty of room for a warm, toasty snacking cake.

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Concord Grape Snacking CakeAdapted from Bon Appetit

I made only minor adjustments to this recipe, mostly to indulge my preference for butter in pretty much anything. The recipe originally called for 4 T oil and 2 T butter, but I made it with all butter. If you're more of an oil cake girl, go right ahead. Either way, it's a no-mixer recipe. Aren't those the best?

I will also confess to using a mix of Thomcord and Champagne grapes, those lovely hybrids with good flavor but no seeds. Concords have superior flavor, but as I sit there with a paring knife picking out each of the FOUR seeds from each grape, I get rather stabby and swear never to use them again. This time, I put my money where my mouth was, and I was much happier to eat the cake as a result.

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour 1/2 cup cornmeal 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt 2 large eggs 1/2 cup sugar 1 teaspoon lemon zest 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 6 tablespoons melted butter (or use 1/4 vegetable oil and 2 tablespoons butter) 6 tablespoons buttermilk (or substitute milk plus juice from half a lemon) 2 tablespoons honey 1/2 a pound of grapes - Thomcord, Concord, Champagne, whatever you've got. But definitely red or black. De-seeded, if necessary.

Preheat oven to 350°. Butter an 8-inch square baking dish.

Whisk flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl; set aside. In a separate large bowl, whisk together eggs and sugar until smooth and satiny. Add lemon zest and vanilla and whisk to combine. Add butter and/or oil; whisk to blend. Whisk in flour mixture, then buttermilk. The drizzle in honey, and use a knife to swirl it into the cake without fully incorporating it.

Pour batter into prepared dish, and scatter half the grapes over cake batter.

Bake until cake turns light golden brown around the edges and starts to set, 15 minutes. Remove from oven and scatter remaining grapes over cake. Continue to bake until top is golden brown and cake springs back when pressed, 20-25 minutes longer. Transfer to a wire rack. Let cool slightly in pan. Serve warm.

Southwestern Caesar with Chipotle-Parmesan Dressing

I had a day of nearly-harrowing travel yesterday, in which I faced not one but two 3-hour delays and ended up purchasing an extra ticket in the nick of time (as in: second-to-last seat on the flight) that got me home at a blessedly reasonable hour. Also, in case you're lucky enough to live in a city where October has decided to behave, let me tell you about the temper tantrum it's throwing back east: the rain is coming down, and it hasn't stopped for a second these past few days. Here's the lemonade from the lemons: it's just gross enough outside that I feel not a shred of guilt about spending this weekend inside.

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Fortunately, the ingredients for my new favorite salad are here and ready to go, as they tend to be quite often these days. I keep a jar of the dressing on the top shelf of the fridge and regularly replenish it when it runs low. Romaine is pretty much always in the house, and at least for the next few weeks, I still have a regular supply of corn. To say this Southwestern Caesar has become a staple? Understatement of the week. At least.

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I should have mentioned this earlier, but this here is a CWA, a Caesar Without Anchovies, which to some of us is a potentially horrifying concept but to others will be a thrill. (How many non-anchovy-eating readers do I have? Raise your hands, y'all, and prepare to be assaulted with anchovy odes until I change your mind.) The chipotle in adobo (a canned good available in any super market) and copious amounts of parmesan cheese add the umami that anchovies otherwise bring. And perhaps most of all, this salad celebrates the power of good croutons. They're the step that takes the longest, but the payoff is big, thick croutons with crunchy fried exteriors and a satisfying chew within. Don't skimp on the time it takes to make them good.

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I get that salad isn't the most intuitive food for a cold, rainy day. But before you know it, I'll be extolling the many virtues of minestrone soup and braised short ribs. Let's squeeze in a few more of those cold vegetables dishes while we can.

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Southwestern Caesar with Chipotle-Parmesan DressingAdapted from Gourmet

Since I never understood the urge to take something as inherently perfect as avocado and grill it, I left mine raw. I also finished the salad with some extra parmesan, because that's what you do with regular Caesar and when it comes to parm, it's never enough. Otherwise, this salad is pretty perfect. Hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

For the dressing: 1/4 cup finely grated parmesan 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil 1/4 cup fresh lime juice 1 teaspoon minced garlic 1 canned chipotle in adobo, finely chopped

For the salad: 1 head romaine lettuce, quartered lengthwise and chopped into 1-inch strips 2 ears of corn, shucked 2 ripe avocados 3 tablespoons olive oil 3 slices sourdough or other good bread, torn into small pieces 1/4 cup grated parmesan

Make the dressing: Put parmesan in a medium bowl and add olive oil in a slow stream, whisking. Whisk in lime juice, garlic, chipotles, and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper.Prepare the salad: Set corn over a grill or open flame. Cook, turning occasionally, until golden-brown on all sides, 3 to 4 minutes.

Meanwhile, pour olive oil into a shallow pan and set over medium heat. When oil shimmers, add croutons. Fry for 2-3 minutes on the first side, until golden. Then turn and cook on the other side for an additional 2-3 minutes. It's worth taking the time to brown the croutons on all sides - they give the salad that essential chew and crunch.

Peel avocados and cut into chunks. Cut corn kernels from cobs.

Pile all the ingredients in a big salad bowl. Add dressing and toss gently to combine. Top with extra parmesan and serve.

Tunisian Salmon with Spicy Green Sauce

Inexplicably, I woke up Friday morning with a serious craving for spicy green sauce. Of what variety? No clue. What would go in this sauce? Again, couldn't tell you. But I wanted a sauce, thick and green, spicy and fresh, to eat with salmon. And since there's only one cook in this house (D being capable of excellent cleaning and eating but really no cooking whatsoever, seriously), my craving was my command.

I typed "spicy green sauce" into Google, and, you know, 16 MILLION results came back. So this spicy green sauce that I totally made up? It's a real thing. 16 million real things, to be precise.

And then, because I'm terribly indecisive, I made three spicy green sauces. Hey - a craving is a craving, non?

9 chilies and two bunches of cilantro later, I found two versions that I really like. One I'll save for another time; the other is a perfect accompaniment to this simply roasted salmon.

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All the recipes I found varied on a basic theme: green chilies, cilantro and occasionally some parsley, garlic and/or onion, lemons or limes, and plenty of olive oil. If you were feeling creative, you could probably riff on the formula and create a sauce of your own.

The one I made for the salmon was inspired by a Tunisian sauce called chermoula. The recipe came from David Tanis, who wrote one of the loveliest cookbooks on my shelf: A Platter of Figs. Its secret ingredient is preserved lemon, which imparts a floral note and plenty of brininess. We loved it on the salmon.

By the way, about that salmon: After many years of relying on wet, soggy marinades to do my flavoring, I've recently come around to the benefits -- and there are so many! -- of dry rub. First, who wants wet when you're dealing with raw chicken or a big slab of fish? It sounds like it'll get everywhere, and it does. Plus, even if you manage to keep the marinade contained, you're still left with a few cups of good liquid that you probably will just pour down the drain. Second, my sense is that marinades don't get much further than skin deep unless you leave them to do their work for several days, and by then -- at least according to Harold McGee -- you've actually altered the structure of the protein, which sounds scary and also not delicious.

I'm not just a marinade naysayer, friends. I actually love dry rubs and I've been using them in all sorts of recipes lately. They're easy to make and remarkably economical. And since you apply the spices directly to the protein, you get a big hit of flavor from a relatively small volume of seasoning. If you play your cards correctly, as with this salmon, you get a nice, crunchy crust of seasoning on the outside of the fish, which really pushes things over the top. I used Tanis' mixture of coriander, cumin, caraway, and cayenne; the caraway is so unexpected and wonderful that I made a second batch of the spice rub (leaving the spices whole to preserve their flavor), and tucked it away for later use.

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The small bit of extra spice rub leftover from the salmon found its way onto eggplant, which I sliced, brushed with olive oil, and roasted in a 400-degree oven for 35 minutes until tender.  The next day, I shmeared two slices of my sourdough bread with some of the leftover chermoula, piled on the spice-rubbed eggplant and some roasted cauliflower, and topped the vegetables with some feta cheese. A few minutes on the cast iron pan weighed down with the tea kettle (so MacGyver, right?), and we had ourselves a killer panino. If I'd had any leftover salmon, I'd have added it to the sandwich in lieu of feta. The chermoula and spice rub are versatile components that I can see using in so many different ways. Both will definitely become part of the regular lunch rotation.

NDP Turns Six! Another year has passed, and now Not Derby Pie is six. Starting first grade - that's so old! Some of you have been around since the wee beginning: thank you. To newer friends, welcome. Thanks for reading, commenting, and sharing tips. I love hearing about what's in your kitchen, and I hope you'll continue to share all that's delicious. In honor of the birthday, I'm going to start posting links to recipes I made on or near the day of each post in each of the five previous years of NDP. The bottom line? Hopefully we'll all come away from each post with even more ideas for food to get us through the week. Cheers, and happy cooking. xo -R

One year ago:Fresh Salmon Cakes with Ginger and LimeTwo years ago:Easy Eggplant CurryThree years ago:All Sorts of PicklesFour years ago:Crostini with Radish and FavasFive years ago:Cherry Almond Tea CakesSix years ago:Île flottante, still among the most elegant desserts I've ever made

Tunisian Salmon with Spicy Green SauceRub and Sauce adapted from David Tanis'  recipe in the New York TimesServes 4-6

Use pre-ground spices if needed; you'll wind up with slightly more spice rub, but no biggie.

For the salmon: 2-lb. side of wild salmon 1/2 teaspoon coriander seed 1/2 teaspoon cumin seed 1/2 teaspoon caraway seed 1/4 teaspoon cayenne 1 teaspoon salt 1 tablespoon olive oil

For the sauce:1 preserved lemon (available at Middle Eastern groceries) or the grated zest of 1 lemon Salt to taste 1 garlic clove, smashed 2 serrano or jalapeño chiles, de-seeded (use less for a milder sauce) 1 cup cilantro leaves and tender stems3 scallions, chopped 1/3 cup olive oil, more to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

In a spice grinder or a mortar, grind the coriander, cumin, caraway, and cayenne to make a mostly-fine spice rub. Don't fret if little bits of whole spices remain.

Place the salmon skin-side down on a large baking sheet and sprinkle all over with salt. Then sprinkle the spice rub over the top of the fish, and use your finger tips to distribute the rub all over the fish. Don't be shy.

Drizzle the fish with the olive oil, and place in the oven for 10-12 minutes. (If your salmon is particularly thick, which mine was not, you may need to leave the fish in a bit longer. Err on the side of undercooking rather than overcooking.)

While the fish cooks, make the sauce: combine all ingredients except olive oil in a blender. With the motor running, drizzle in the olive oil until everything emulsifies into a mostly-smooth sauce. Salt to taste. Transfer to a container and store in the fridge until ready to use.

Either serve the salmon immediately, or refrigerate until thoroughly chilled (about 2 hours) and serve cold.