Curried Cauliflower Chickpea Salad

You might -- as I did -- assume that any recipe written by the likes of Thomas Keller is completely out of reach for us mere mortals. Yes, he of the Best Restaurant in New York publishes books, with recipes in them. I have one of these books, and it isn't even the crazy-complicated one. It's Ad Hoc, the most approachable of his books, which documents the food from his family-style restaurant in Yountville. I've read it through several times; it's a beautiful volume. It's found a permanent home on our coffee table. Unfortunately, I've been too flat-out intimidated to actually make his food. The recipes look simple enough - farro with butternut squash, summer vegetable gratin, etc - but when you dig deeper, every recipe subtly calls for like eight other recipes. I was a bit put off.

You probably think I'm being lazy, or weak, or something. After all, better women have cooked every recipe from his high-end cookbook without breaking a sweat. (Okay, maybe a little sweat.) But I am not so bold. I confess, I tire at the site of long, involved recipes, especially when they're ultimately meant to be eaten as a weeknight dinner. I believe there's plenty of time to cook good food at home, even on weeknights, but multi-step recipes require either lots of time, or lots of foresight. These days, I have neither. But after this weekend, I do have a newfound enthusiasm and can-do spirit: I'm cooking (slightly adapted) Keller, and you can too.

I've been eyeing this salad of chickpeas and curried cauliflower for as long as I've had Ad Hoc at Home on my coffee table. The picture in the book is gorgeous: it features both dried and fresh chickpeas, sliced green and red endive, little coin-sized cauliflower florets, pretty pickled onions, the works. It looks so fresh and colorful, like something I would totally make.

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In reading the recipe, I thought the flavors in the dish seemed really well-balanced, so I hesitated to make any changes. But then I realized that I wanted to actually bite the bullet and make this recipe, so I forged ahead. No fresh chickpeas at the markets these days, and canned chickpeas are really fine: one step eliminated. I happened to have some pickled onions left over from another recipe, so I used those. If I hadn't had them, that step is actually quite easy. As for the wine-soaked raisins, I had only currants and red wine, instead of the white wine and golden raisins called for. Still, the end result was quite delicious. I even added dill, because I didn't have any parsley leaves (nor the time to fry them), and I think the salad benefited from the addition.

Does this prove that you can mess with Keller recipes successfully? N of 1, so I'm doubtful. But it does prove that Ad Hoc is more than coffee table eye candy. It's a book with recipes in it. Those recipes are for making, and after this experience, I'll be making more of them.

Also: One year ago today, I got hitched. Craziness! 10/17/10 was warm and sunny, joyous and spirited, and absolutely unforgettable in every way. Some of you were there in person to share that day with us, others shared it virtually via my post on the blog and your wonderful comments. I'm so happy to find myself in this space one year later, able to reminisce on that wonderful day with y'all. You're the best....and so is my awesome wife. Happy anniversary, D.

Curried Cauliflower and Chickpea SaladAdapted from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home

For the Cauliflower: 1 head of cauliflower salt 1 tablespoon white vinegar

For the Salad: 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts 3 heads endive (mix of red and green is pretty) 1 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained 4 oz. oil-cured black olives, pits removed 1/2 an onion (red or white), halved and sliced into thin rings 1/4 cup white vinegar 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar 1/4 cup raisins or currants, plumped in 1/4 cup wine (red or white) 1 tablespoon minced chives 1/4 cup chopped dill salt and pepper

Curry Vinaigrette: 2 teaspoons good quality curry powder (preferably Madras) 1/4 cup champagne vinegar 1/2 cup canola oil 1 teaspoon minced garlic salt and pepper

Prepare the Cauliflower: Core the cauliflower and remove the leaves. Halve the cauliflower, then cut into florets about the size of a quarter or slightly larger.

Set a medium pot full of salted water on high heat and bring to a boil. Add vinegar and cauliflower, and cook until cauliflower is fully cooked but still firm, about 4 minutes. Strain cauliflower into a bowl and cool completely.

Prepare Onions: Combine onions, vinegar, and sugar in a small bowl. Stir to combine, then set aside for about 10 minutes, longer if you have it.

Prepare Dressing: In a small dry pan over medium heat, toast curry powder until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Combine all ingredients in a jar and shake vigorously to combine. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Assemble the Salad: Remove the ends of each endive head, and slice into 1/4-inch rings. Transfer to a large bowl. Add cooled cauliflower, chickpeas, pine nuts, olives, onions (drained of their pickling liquid), raisins, and dill in a large bowl. Add dressing, stir to combine, and adjust salt and pepper levels to taste. Serve with chives sprinkled overtop.

Salad can be kept in an airtight container for a few days after serving, but is best the day it is made.

Easy Eggplant Curry

Somehow, D and I were hosted for all of our Rosh Hashana meals. Five times, we found ourselves in good friends' homes, ripping off pieces of round, honey-dunked challah, and savoring slices of apples picked as nearby as Maryland, and as far as a friend's hometown of Omaha. Five times, we ate way more than we needed to, fought to stop ourselves from taking one more piece of mushroom tart, one more spoonful of ethereal fennel soup, one more scoop of squash gratin, one more slice of my mom's famous carrot kugel, one more bite of toasted coconut ice cream. Needless to say, we're pretty stuffed.

(Another highlight, while we're on the topic: my mom made a sweet-savory noodle kugel with feta. Talk about creative! I'm going to need that recipe.)

Alas, the languid pace and gluttonous eating of the past three days can't go on indefinitely. There's work - a new job, for one of us - right around the corner. And while, after weeks of working too hard and having little time for myself, it was great to not have to cook for this holiday, it also means that the fridge is strangely free of leftovers. Needless to say, I had to rectify that situation.

I discovered this Food52 recipe last year, and made it probably 10 times in the ensuing weeks. It takes maybe 30 minutes, start to finish; it keeps in the fridge for days, maybe even improves as it sits; and it reheats like a charm at the office, which by now you know seals the deal for me.

I serve this curry with brown rice and a scoop of yogurt. If you're feeling fancy, you can make raita to go with it, but plain yogurt works nicely, too. We've got a container full of the stuff, waiting to greet us at the end of the workday tomorrow. There's no better way to start the new year.

Easy Eggplant CurryAdapted from "Purnima Garg's Eggplant and Tomato Curry" on Food52 serves 4-6

3 tablespoons peanut oil (canola also works) 1 teaspoon brown mustard seeds 1 teaspoon cumin seeds 1 onion, sliced 4 Japanese (long and thin) eggplants, sliced 1/2 inch thick 1 serrano chile, seeded (if you're concerned about spice - I left my seeds in) and chopped fine 1 teaspoon ground coriander 14 ounces canned diced tomatoes with juice 1/2 teaspoon garam masala 1 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large frying pan until it shimmers. Add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds and heat about 30 seconds, until they pop.

Add the sliced onions, and stir occasionally over medium high heat until they are deep brown in spots (this will take a while, but makes a big difference to the taste and they won't burn if you are careful).

Add 1 more tablespoon of oil. Add half the eggplant, and saute until the skin turns brown and the flesh just starts to soften. Remove onions and cooked eggplant to a heatsafe bowl. Add the final tablespoon of oil, the remaining eggplant, and saute until browned and slightly softened. Add the onions and the first batch of eggplant back to the pan.

Add the chile, coriander, garam masala, tomatoes, and salt and pepper. Turn heat to medium low and cook, covered, until the eggplant is soft, stirring occasionally.

Serve hot with rice and plain yogurt or raita. Feel free to add other condiments, like spicy pickle or chutney.

Green Beans with Pesto Vinaigrette

The humble green bean doesn't get enough love, I've decided. We're all so focused on bursting tomatoes and perfect peaches, sweet sweet corn and favas that take five times as long to peel as to eat (and are still totally worth it) and we totally ignore green beans. Unlike peaches, they don't get super juicy. Unlike tomatoes, they don't look any prettier at the farmers' market than they do at Safeway. And I don't know about you, but I'm so used to seeing grocery-store green beans all year round that somehow, the site of them at the market doesn't trigger that must-have-now feeling that, say, perfect baby okras inspire. (Incidentally, I got those okras. Thrice. I started this thread on Foodpickle, the only place on the web where you can ask a question and get a bunch of really smart answers, really quickly. Then I went and made this recipe. And this one. I also floured and fried a handful as an appetizer one evening. And then, with my last batch, I tried to follow my colleague's instructions for Bindi Masala but, let's face it, ended up with some strange not-quite-Indian okra curry. Still pretty good. I love okra.)

Back to the green beans, which may not have had me up at 8am as I do for tomatoes -- freaked out they'll disappear before I get some -- but did spark my attention enough that last week, I bagged a couple pounds from one of the farmers at the Dupont market. I wasn't quite sure how I'd use them, but I can tell you this: once those beans were tucked under my arm, I had no trouble at all getting excited brainstorming ways to use them.

And that's how we wound up here, with these beans. This is a simple preparation for a beautiful and underrated summer vegetable, one that'll perk up humble-looking beans and brighten any summer meal. Among the upsides of this dish: it's great served cold; it's very, very simple to make; and you can make the components a few days in advance, then combine and serve when you and your people are hungry. It's a good situation.

Most important of all, we're elevating the lowly green bean to its rightful place, situated among the finest vegetables summer has to offer.

Green Beans with Pesto Vinaigrette

1.5 lbs. green beans, ends trimmed, rinsed 1/4 cup pesto (homemade is always best, but store-bought is totally fine) juice and zest of 1 lemon 3 Tablespoons good olive oil salt and pepper to taste

Prepare the Green Beans: Fill a large pot with water and bring to a boil over high heat. Fill a large bowl with ice cubes, then with water. Set aside.

Blanch the green beans in 2 batches for about 2 minutes per batch, until beans are bright, vivid green. Use tongs to transfer beans from boiling water directly to ice bath. When beans are cooked and fully chilled, transfer from ice bath to a large bowl.

Prepare the Vinaigrette: Combine pesto and lemon juice in a medium bowl and whisk until combined. Drizzle olive oil in a slow stream, whisking constantly, until combined. Taste, and add salt and pepper as necessary.

Finish the Dish: Toss beans with pesto vinaigrette. Serve chilled, or set it out on the counter and let it come to room temperature.

Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream

DC's pulled some fast ones this summer. I keep expecting those terrible Washington heat waves, and not that we haven't had a couple -- remember the day when I ate my way through a chili cook-off in 105-degree weather? dumby -- but on balance, this city is seeming suspiciously temperate.

Still, I'm not one to press my luck. It wants to be 77 degrees out? Fine by me. And if Murphy's Law is worth anything at all, I'm crossing my fingers that making ice cream might keep the summer demons away just a little bit longer.

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Not just any ice cream, mind you. In this house, mint chocolate chip ranks right up there with mango, strawberry, and cucumber-basil as one of the most refreshing ice cream flavors there is. It's an old favorite of D's: she tends to alternate between it, oreo, and chocolate chip cookie dough. It's probably obvious if you read this blog that I'm not big on either of those other two, but D surprised me with a trip to Portland over Memorial Day weekend, and I can't let the wife-of-the-year award go to her completely uncontested. Enter homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream.

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Here's the strange thing about homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream: it tastes almost nothing like store-bought variety -- something that, even after years of replicating store-bought items at home to great success, I actually didn't anticipate. In retrospect, it makes perfect sense. The main flavor in the homemade stuff that doesn't come through in Breyer's or Haagen Dazs is a distinctly green flavor, like you chopped up fresh mint, steeped it in milk, and then made ice cream. (Oh, right. That is what I did.) The milk tastes somehow sweeter and fruitier, the chocolate not in big hunks but in dainty drizzles, resulting from the "stracciatella" technique of splattering melted chocolate into the freezing custard in thin threads. Quite frankly, it's the best mint chocolate chip ice cream I've ever had. I'm pretty sure it earned me some points - makin' a strong bid for wife of the month, at least.

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Mint Chocolate Chip Ice CreamAdapted from David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop

1 cup whole milk 1/4 cup (150 g) sugar 2 cups heavy cream pinch of salt 2 cups (80 g) lightly packed fresh mint leaves 5 large egg yolks 4 oz good bittersweet chocolate, chopped

Warm the milk, sugar, 1 cup of cream, and salt over medium-low heat. When milk mixture is warm, add mint leaves and stir into milk. Cover pan, remove from heat, and let steep about 1 hour. When this process is completed, the milk should look ever so faintly green. It's very exciting.

Strain the milk into a medium saucepan (you can strain it into a bowl and then back into the same saucepan as before), pressing hard on the mint leaves to extract as much flavor as possible. Discard mint leaves. Pour the remaining cup of cream into a fairly large bowl, and set aside.

Set the mint-infused milk over medium heat to rewarm. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks thoroughly. Once the milk has been rewarmed, add ladlefuls of the milk to the egg mixture to temper the eggs - work slowly to avoid scrambling the yolks. Once you've added a few ladlefuls of the milk to the eggs, pour the egg-milk mixture into the remaining warmed milk, and whisk to combine. Set over low heat. Stir constantly with heatproof spatula or wooden spoon, as mixture gradually thickens. Make sure the heat is as low as possible to avoid curdling your custard. When mixture coats the back of a wooden spoon (or spatula), it's done; remove it from the heat, and pour through a fine-mesh strainer into the bowl with the remaining cup of cream.

Freeze ice cream according to your ice cream maker's instructions.

While ice cream churns, melt chocolate in a double boiler until completely smooth.

At the very end of churning - we're talking right before you transfer your ice cream to a container - drizzle melted chocolate into ice cream maker while running, so that the chocolate distributes itself in thin threads into the ice cream. Freeze thoroughly before serving.