Rigatoni with Broccoli Rabe

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you know by now that I'm a self proclaimed ingredient-adder. I've got issues leaving things simple: I find myself constantly tempted to tinker, to add just one more spice or sauce or vegetable or seed or something. I've been working on it, folks, really I have, but it ain't easy.

As much as I'm inclined to clean out my pantry into a recipe, there are certain recipes that are not to be futzed with. One of those recipes is Marcella Hazan's pasta with broccoli rabe. Hazan is a legendary Italian cook and cookbook author. Her directions are so very precise, her knowledge and expertise so colossal, I'd be crazy to fiddle with her ingredients or proportions.

You've probably seen broccoli rabe in the grocery store or farmers' market: it's usually a medium-sized head of greens with a couple very young broccoli florets poking out the top. It's leafy and bitter, and according to Adam, the Amateur Gourmet (who quotes Lydia Bastianich and Julia Child, who am I to disagree?), it gets more complex with every chew. Broccoli rabe -- also known as rapini -- is absolutely delicious on pasta paired with anchovies, crushed chili peppers, and parmesan cheese. I used whole wheat rigatoni (see the smoke coming out of Marcella Hazan's ears? yikes) but as she says, the "natural match" for this sauce is orecchiete, which are shaped like miniature flying saucers. She also recommends using salt-preserved anchovy fillets, preferably prepared at home. While the idea of using fresh, home-prepped anchovies makes my mouth water, their very short shelf life has always deterred me from actually doing it, and I tend to stick with the high-quality oil-packed ones. They're available at most high-end markets; these days, most every grocery store has them, usually in oil-packed jars and in squeezable tubes. (I recommend the jars, not the tubes -- anchovy toothpaste isn't the hottest idea.)

One final note about this recipe before you run out to grab that anchovy toothpaste. This one's for the anchovy-haters -- I know you're out there. If you're even still reading this, I'm impressed that you didn't see the word "anchovy" and run away. Point is, please don't hate on the anchovies. They're so, so delicious, and they really are mashed into a paste in many recipes, so you don't have to see them. And frankly, nothing can replace that unmistakable taste of anchovy. So take a big breath and give'em a try. If you hate'em, sorry, and I guess I owe you a few bucks. If you love'em, you can thank me for giving you the extra nudge.

Rigatoni with Broccoli Rabe from Marcella Hazan

1 pound dried orecchiette or other pasta 2 cups water 1 teaspoon salt 1 bunch rapini, about 1 pound, trimmed 5 tablespoons olive oil, divided 3 anchovy fillets, chopped 2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes 1/2 cup grated pecorino Romano cheese

1. Cook pasta according to package instructions, in well-salted water; drain, reserving some of the pasta water, and set aside. Meanwhile, heat water and salt to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add rapini; cook until crisp-tender, about 4 minutes. Drain in colander; cool under cold running water, drain, and set aside.

2. Heat 3 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Stir in anchovies, pressing lightly with a spatula to help break up the fillets. Cook 1 minute. Stir in rapini, garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook, stirring constantly, until garlic softens, about 5 minutes.

3. Toss pasta with rapini mixture in a large serving bowl. If extra liquid is necessary to unclump pasta or make rapini more easily integrated, add pasta water by the 1/4 cup. Drizzle with remaining 2 Tbsp of the olive oil and cheese; toss.

Quinoa Salad with Tofu, Beets, and Avocado

This is another installment of my "weekday lunch" series, where I offer suggestions for dishes that can hang out in your tupperware til 12:30 rolls around. For other weekday lunch options, see my weekday lunch archive page.

Here's a super-easy salad that holds up very well in the tupperware container. It came together late one night when the contents of my fridge were scarce and I needed lunch for the next day. Red quinoa -- available at Whole Foods and other similar stores, both in packages and in the bulk section -- is a wholesome and nutritious grain, actually a berry, that takes about 15 minutes to steam. I cooked some quinoa (about 1 cup raw), chopped up two small beets I'd roasted earlier in the week, sliced up one avocado and one small block of teriyaki-marinated baked tofu, tossed them all together, and drizzled some rice vinaigrette over the salad (recipe below). It doesn't get much easier than that. The bonus upside to bringing quinoa for lunch is that, unlike other grains, quinoa holds its shape and crunch very well even in the fridge overnight and in tupperware, and doesn't tend to clump together or get sticky.

If you're in a rush, this is really a perfect salad to throw together. And as always, feel free to improvise my recipe, adjusting for the contents of your fridge. I could imagine adding greens, red bell peppers, edamame, perhaps some raisins, even almonds or other sliced nuts for crunch. Get to it!

Rice Wine Vinaigrette

1 tsp. finely grated ginger or 1/2 tsp. powdered ginger 4 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar 1 tsp. sugar 1 tsp. soy sauce 1/2 Tbsp. lemon juice 3 Tbsp. olive oil 1 Tbsp. sesame oil

Combine all ingredients except for oil, and whisk vigorously. Add oil in a steady stream, whisking all the while, until well combined. Drizzle several Tbsp. of the dressing over the salad and toss to coat. Serve cool or at room temperature.

Cherry Almond Biscotti

Two wrist-slaps for me: I made these so long ago, I can't even remember when at this point. And I was oh-so-sure I blogged about them. But you know what? I didn't. I realized this yesterday, when I was poking around a great blog I recently discovered (which, in coincidence of coincidences, belongs to an acquaintance of mine from college), and came across a post about biscotti that's so good, it begs not to be dipped in chocolate. "I make those, too!" I thought, at which point I started poking around my own little blog for any mention of what are, without a doubt, my favorite biscotti ever. Nothing.

My goldfish-memory aside, I'll now remedy that situation. These biscotti are truly the best I've ever made. They've got a healthy handful of dried cherries, chopped home-toasted almonds, and just the right amounts of cinnamon and sugar to make them subtly sweet and spicy, not overly so. You know what else? They're mighty good for you, in the not-bad-for-you kind of way.

I developed my ideal recipe by starting with some basic recipes from a go-to cookbook on my shelf, The New Best Recipe, and consulting the cookbook's advice on how different proportions of egg yolk and butter affect the final product. I like my biscotti dry, crisp, and so crunchy they could (almost) crack a tooth, so I use only egg whites and no butter. If you prefer them less crunchy, more cakey, or more cookie-like, see the note at the beginning of my recipe.

As far as flavorings and add-ins, almost anything goes. TNBR offers orange-almond, lemon-anise, and cinnamon-spice as options, but any dried fruit, nut, seed, spice, or extract would be lovely.

Cherry Almond Biscotti adapted from The New Best Recipe

As I mentioned above, I used 3 egg whites and no butter to produce a very crunchy cookie. For slightly less crunchy biscotti, use 2 eggs instead. For a more cookie-like texture, use 2 eggs and 4 Tbsp. butter. For cakier biscotti, use 2 eggs and 2 egg yolks, an extra 1/4 cup of flour, and 1/2 a teaspoon of baking soda.

2 cups flour 1 tsp. baking powder 1/4 tsp. salt 1 cup sugar 3 large egg whites 1/2 tsp. vanilla 1/2 tsp. cinnamon 1/4 tsp. nutmeg 1 Tbsp. zest from an orange or lemon 3/4 cup whole almonds with skins, toasted, cooled, and coarsely chopped 3/4 cup cherries, raisins, or currants

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk flour, baking powder (and soda if using), and salt together in a medium bowl and set aside.

Whisk the sugar, zest and eggs (whatever part of them you're using) in a large bowl until light yellow. Add in vanilla. Sprinkle dry ingredients over egg mixture and fold until just combined. Add in almonds and cherries, and fold until just incorporated.

Halve the dough and turn both portions onto the baking sheet. Using floured hands, quickly stretch each portion of the dough into a rough 13 by 2-inch loaf. Place the loaves about 3 inches apart on baking sheet and bake until golden and just beginning to crack, about 35 minutes, turning sheet halfway through baking. Remove from oven, transfer loaves to cutting board using large spatula, and turn oven down to 325. Cut loaves on a diagonal into 1/2-inch-thick slices. Place about 1/2 an inch apart on baking sheet and return to the oven. Bake until golden all over, about 10 minutes, turning cookies over halfway through. Cool on a wire rack. Biscotti will keep in an airtight container for up to 1 month.

Miso Chicken with Braised Fennel

Boneless chicken breasts are one of those things I cope with for the sake of my relationship. If I had my way, you'd never see them in my fridge or freezer: I find them flavorless and boring (unless breaded and fried -- no complaints about homemade chicken fingers from this lady). But D loves those chicken breasts -- especially when coated in cornflakes and eaten with applesauce -- so once in a while, I throw some on the stove or in the oven and call it dinner. I try to make 'em interesting, though I should mention that in doing so, I've ruined several perfectly boring but fine chicken breasts with bad-tasting sauce. Tonight, however, was one of those nights when the boneless chicken breasts found themselves on both of our plates, topped with a sauce that was pretty darn delicious, and I thanked my lucky stars that I'd given D yet another chicken fix while making something that I also enjoyed eating.

My recipe is loosely based on a recipe I saw on epicurious, originally published in SELF Magazine, for a miso-marinated chicken. I made the marinade called for in the recipe but found it pretty flat, so I added some more things. The result was something I can recommend unequivocally; it was sweet but not overly so, salty in the wonderful way that miso and soy sauce are, tangy from rice wine vinegar, and zippy from fresh ginger and wasabi. The breasts were well-browned (I like'em with a hefty crust) and the sauce was properly reduced so as to be thick and drizzly. Also, I used homemade chicken stock, which really did make a bit of a difference. As for the braised fennel, I had the aforementioned chicken stock, as well as some drinkable white wine and ingredients for mirepoix (onions, carrots, celery -- the aromatics used as a base in many French and other dishes), so I decided to make a classic braise using all of the above to flavor browned, then softened, Fennel bulbs. D doesn't much like fennel, and you know what? Neither do I -- never was a fan of those licorice flavors. But the flavor of the fennel is so mellow in this braised dish as to be (almost) unassertive. It's like someone tazed the fennel or got it drunk or something. Get my drift? Braised fennel=good, =not as strong as licorice-y raw fennel. =Tasty, very tasty.

Along with some sushi-inspired, vinegar- and sugar-spiked white rice, the chicken and fennel made for a delectable meal. If you wanted to serve this set of dishes for company, I'd recommend starting with a seaweed salad, which D and I had at a lovely Friday night dinner, and by which I was totally blown away. Just ask my fridge: I've paying the leftover salad regular visits.

Miso Chicken adapted from SELF

1/2 cup white miso paste (found at health food stores) 1/4 cup sugar 1/4 cup chicken broth 1/8 cup rice vinegar 1 1/2 Tbsp soy sauce 1 Tbsp minced ginger 1/4 tsp wasabi paste, optional

Combine all ingredients except chicken; stir to combine. Don't worry if the miso clumps a bit. Add chicken, coat with marinade, and let sit in the fridge for at least 10 minutes.

Preheat skillet with 2 Tbsp oil over medium heat. Lift one chicken breast out of the marinade, letting excess drip off; transfer to skillet. Repeat, making sure not to overcrowd the pan. Cook about 8-9 minutes per side, until well-browned and cooked through. Alternatively, roast in a 375-degree oven for approximately 20 minutes, until cooked through. Transfer chicken to a plate to cool, about 5 minutes.

Transfer remaining marinade to skillet, raise the heat to med-high, and reduce about 6-7 minutes, until fully cooked and thick enough to coat a wooden spoon. Spoon over chicken and serve.

Braised Fennel serves 4

3 fennel bulbs, cored and quartered, fronds reserved 1 small onion, diced 3 individual stalks (not full heads) celery, diced 2 small carrots or 1 large carrot, diced olive oil 2/3 cup white wine 2/3 cup chicken broth juice of 1/2 a lemon salt and pepper

Halve fennel bulbs; remove core with two diagonal cuts in a V toward the center. Then quarter the bulbs. In a large skillet with a lid, heat 3-4 Tbsp olive oil. Add mirepoix (celery, onion, carrot) and cook 5-6 minutes over medium heat, until browned and softened. Clear some room and add fennel pieces, and some more olive oil if necessary. Cook another 6 minutes, until bottoms of the fennel quarters are browned. Add chicken stock and wine, lower heat to a simmer, and cover skillet. Cook about 15-20 minutes, until fennel is soft all the way through. Add a bit of broth, wine, or water and use a wooden spoon to scrape up the "fond" -- any flavorful brown bits that have accumulated at the bottom of the skillet. Serve hot, warm, or even room temperature (though I prefer hot).