Lynne Rossetto Kasper's Thai Cabbage Salad with Cashews and Chili-Coconut Dressing

Not everyday is as productive as last Friday. In about 2 hours, I made a fantastic salad, discovered a new cooking technique, and finally learned how to achieve that elusive sweet-salty-tangy-spicy balance in a Thai vinaigrette. It's all thanks to Lynn Rossetto Kasper. As if I'm surprised.

I am a huge fan of Lynn Rossetto Kasper. I'm a loyal listener to her "The Splendid Table" podcast, and I absolutely loved her pithy and clever "How to Eat Supper" podcasts, which she co-hosted with TST producer Sally Swift (until recently, when they suddenly stopped coming out...) So I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that it took me until last week to sign up for Lynn's "Weeknight Kitchen" newsletter. Now maybe it's too soon to pass judgement, seeing as I've only gotten two issues. But this is Lynn Rossetto Kasper. Every recipe is a run-to-your-kitchen recipe. As expected, just one day after the email landed in my inbox, I was at the counter, surrounded by heaps of green cabbage.

The recipe in last week's edition was for a Thai cabbage salad with tofu, cashews, and pineapple. D was quick to point out that I cut my pineapple slices so large as to intimidate my guests (sorry, ya'll! Hope the yellow didn't scare you away) so in the future, I'll make my pineapple more....welcoming. But aside from that, I found this salad delightful. It's got really well-layered flavor: the bitter freshness of cabbage, the tangy sweetness of pineapple, a generous handful of cashews, scallions and herbs, and a biting vinaigrette rounded out with fish sauce (one of Lynn's favorite ingredients: it's got tons of umami, or glutamate, which helps give that extra something to...well, almost anything.)

I threw together a small plate of this salad before serving it to make sure that the flavors were balanced. One bite led to two, then three, and before I knew it, my plate was clean. Yep, flavors were balanced alright. I've had the salad for two lunches and a dinner, and a wee bit of it is with me at jury duty today. Now go pick yourself up and make it.

Also, now that I have your attention, apologies for the shameless self-promotion, but if I can't do it here, where can I? I'm super excited to announce that I'm featured in this week's Washingtonian Blogger Beat! Check it out!

Thai Cabbage Salad with Cashews and Chili-Coconut Dressing

This dressing is truly amazing. Heating the chili in the oil really opens up the flavors (the new technique I learned), and the fish sauce is really key in rounding out this dressing: if you've never used it before, don't be afraid! It can smell funky, but the flavor is very subtle. Not one of the guests to whom I served this salad thought there was fish sauce in the dressing. Also of note: this sauce goes way beyond cabbage salad: Cook some tofu and vegetables, add this sauce, and you've got thai curry.

For the Roasted Chile-Coconut Dressing: 1/2 cup expeller-pressed canola oil (or other oil, such as safflower or grapeseed 4 generous teaspoons coarse ground Aleppo chile (I use Penzey's, which Lynn recommends), or other flavorful medium-hot to hot ground chile 4 large garlic cloves, chopped fine 1-1/3 cups coconut milk (canned is fine) 2 to 2-1/2 tablespoons Asian fish sauce 4 tablespoons sugar 1/4 to 1/3 teaspoon salt Juice of 1 to 1-1/2 large limes

For the Salad: 3 large handfuls mixed greens 8 leaves of Napa or regular cabbage, cut crosswise into thin slivers. (If using regular cabbage, as I did slice as thinly as possible; use a mandoline if you have one) 4 whole scallions, thin sliced 1-1/2 cups bite-sized pieces pineapple, fresh, or canned in pineapple juice and drained 1/2 cup salted broken cashews, or peanuts (I like them toasted) 1-1/2 to 2 cups diced firm tofu, cooked and diced tempeh, chicken, or seafood 1/2 light-packed cup fresh mint, coriander (cilantro) or basil leaves, torn (I used mint and cilantro) Salt and fresh ground black pepper

1. Make the dressing by combining in a 12-inch straight sided sauté pan the oil, chile and garlic. Heat slowly over medium so flavors will open up but nothing will burn (about 2 minutes). Stir with a wood spatula until the garlic begins to sizzle (don't let it brown).

2. Quickly add the coconut milk and boil, stirring, for 30 seconds, or until it's a deep red-gold. Stir in the fish sauce (start with the smallest amount), sugar and salt and boil 30 seconds, or until thickened with glossy bubbles and the sauce is the color of caramel.

3. Immediately scrape all the sauce into a bowl to stop the cooking. (Sauce could be refrigerated for several days). Rinse and dry the pan and keep it handy for reheating the sauce.

4. Make the salad by blending the greens and cabbage together and dividing between 4 dinner plates. Divide the remaining ingredients between each serving, scattering them over the greens. Season the salads with salt and pepper.

5. Warm the dressing in the pan until it comes to a bubble and drizzle it over each serving. Then squeeze generous amounts of fresh lime over the salads and serve.

Graham Crackers

D's stepmom, Terri, has an absolute weakness for graham crackers. She says they're the one thing she absolutely can't keep in the house, because once she opens the package, she'll eat every last one. I learned this on our recent trip to Israel, and was pleased to be able to reply that in my bag, I just so happened to have two homemade graham crackers that I'd packed as a plane snack. Naturally, her eyes bulged. I bounded up the stairs and grabbed them immediately.

It had all started innocently enough: having given in several times the previous week to sugary, buttery shortbread and chocolate chip cookies and really so much more, I was determined to bake a snack that would satisfy my sweet tooth without pushing me over the edge. That whole "new year, new habits" thing has nothing to do with it, promise.

Graham crackers were the perfect choice. (They're called crackers -- how bad could they be?) I made a batch a couple days before we left; I gave a few away as holiday presents, and the rest I played around with. Some got a one-sided dunking in chocolate, others became sandwiches.

The cookies were just perfect. They were addictively crunchy, and the addition of whole wheat flour gave them a rustic, graham-y quality. And don't forget the generous dusting of cinnamon sugar to finish them off.

Now Terri wasn't all that enthused by the graham crackers, because the particular pair I'd brought were sandwiching a thick layer of intensely brown caramel, which overpowered the rather subtle flavor of the graham crackers. I liked 'em just fine, but I probably won't make them again. Graham crackers are meant to be simple, the kind of thing you munch alongside a steaming cup of tea. They satisfy a sweet craving just perfectly, no caramel or chocolate needed.

Graham Crackers adapted ever so slightly from The Washington Post

For the graham crackers

9 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon unsalted butter, at room temperature 3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar 3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon flour, plus more for rolling 1 1/3 cups whole-wheat flour 4 teaspoons baking powder 3/4 teaspoon salt 6 tablespoons whole or low-fat buttermilk or milk

For the topping (optional)

1 cup sugar 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

Combine the butter and sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer or hand-held electric mixer. Beat on medium speed until light.

Combine the flours, baking powder and salt on a sheet of parchment paper or wax paper.

Reduce the speed to low; add the flour mixture, then the buttermilk, in several increments, ending with the flour; beat to form a soft dough. Divide the mixture in half, then wrap each portion in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 1 hour or until well chilled.

For the topping (if using): Combine the sugar and cinnamon in a bowl.

Position oven racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven; preheat to 325 degrees. Line 2 rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

Lightly flour a work surface. Working with 1/2 portion at a time (keeping the others chilled), lightly flour the top of the dough. Roll out to a rectangle with a thickness of slightly less than 1/4 inch. Use cookie cutters to cut into shapes, or use a sharp knife and a ruler to cut the dough into 2-by-3-inch rectangles. Alternatively, use a scalloped cutter to give your cookies a wavy edge. (I did this on batch number 2.) Prick each cookie two or three times with a fork, and place the unbaked crackers on the baking sheets, spaced 1/4 inch apart. Sprinkle evenly with the topping, if using.

Bake for 6 to 8 minutes, then rotate the baking sheets top to bottom and front to back. Bake for 6 to 9 minutes, until golden brown and baked through. Let cool on the baking sheets before serving or storing.

Crispy Kale Chips

Hello there readers, and hello 2010! I'm back from Israel and hope you enjoyed the dispatches from abroad. In truth, there's so much more to tell: a dear friend took D and me on a fabulous tour of the Old City's Christian Quarter, where we ate amazingly fresh hummus, climbed down to secret underground cisterns, and visited a tucked-away Austrian hospice for excellent cappucinos and Jerusalem's best apple streudel. And that was just one morning!

But now we're back to the grind, and besides, you must be tired of my rants about my travels. You come here for recipes, and I aim to please. So let's talk about kale chips, shall we?

I think I first read about crispy kale in the late Gourmet Mag. The recipe was as simple as they come -- kale, olive oil, salt, pepper -- and accompanying it were stunning photos of long, evergreen-colored leaves shooting out of a tall glass. Gourmet said the kale was the perfect cocktail party food, and looking at the pictures, I had to agree. I could envision these beautiful vases of kale chips placed on a long table, giving height to the usual array of flat cookie platters and cheese plates. Yum.

One evening, I had a bunch of kale to use up and decided to give the recipe a go. If it was a success, I figured, I'd make it at my next dinner party; the beautiful chips were certain to impress.

But then I ate one.

Can we discuss the fact that my entire mouth, like every single tooth, had green flecks all about? And flecks is an understatement. I might as well have colored my smile with green marker, it was that bad. Cocktail party food my #$@*^%!!! Kale chips are absolutely delicious -- they're crispy, and salty, and perfectly peppery, utterly addictive in short -- but they're something to be eaten at home alone, or with someone who really, really likes you. Either way, be prepared to laugh.

Don't let me green teeth scare you away completely, though: these kale chips truly are delicious. If any of you have made New Year's resolutions to eat more vegetables, consider this recipe a belated holiday gift. You can easily polish off an entire batch of kale this way.

Kale Chips adapted from Gourmet

These chips are delicious just so, but they really pop with a last-minute squeeze of lemon, if you have it handy.

1 bunch kale, cleaned and dried, center stems removed olive oil salt pepper wedge of lemon, optional

Put the kale in a large plastic bag, drizzle about 1/8 cup olive oil inside, and shake and massage to combine. Add more oil to the bag as needed until all leaves are coated in the oil. Spread kale leaves in a single layer on as many baking sheets as you need, and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Bake at 300 for 20-25 minutes, until kale is crispy all over. Cooking time depends on age and dryness of kale, so watch carefully and remove when every piece is crispy. Serve immediately, and squeeze lemon overtop just before serving, if desired.

Brussels Sprouts with Sriracha, Honey, and Lime

When the New Yorker lands in my mailbox each Tuesday, the first thing I read is the weekly restaurant write-up, Tables for Two. It's short and sweet, and usually contains a brief description of one or two stand-out dishes. Every once in a while, I hear one of the descriptions and think, that sounds like something I should try to make. Even more rarely than that, I actually get off my derriere and try to make one of the recipes. This is one of those times.

The idea came from The Vanderbilt, a restaurant in Prospect Heights. According to the New Yorker, "the best dish might be the roasted Brussels sprouts, dressed with sriracha, lime, and honey, each bite a perfect combination of sweet, spicy, and tart." They really did sound perfect, and given a) how simple the ingredient list sounded and b) the fact that I happened to have all four aformentioned ingredients in my house, I decided to give it a go. What better use of a snow day than turning dish descriptions into great food?

For my first (and thusfar only) try at this recipe, I used just the listed ingredients, oil, and salt. I imagine the restaurant may have thrown in some stock for balance, or any number of other things not mentioned in the name, but brussels sprouts with sriracha, lime, and honey sound just great. I was making only one serving, so I pulled out a little bowl and squeezed in a tablespoon of honey. I added a teaspoon of sriracha to that and stirred it to combine. Then I added the juice of half a lime and mixed it together. Upon tasting it, I decided it needed more tartness, so I added the juice from the other half of the lime: perfect. I poured it into a bigger bowl and added the trimmed sprouts. I mixed it all together, tossed the sprouts onto a baking sheet, drizzled them with olive, and put them in the oven at 375. 27 minutes later, I pulled out a tray of the crispiest, most perfect little sprouts. Transferring them to a plate and snapping a couple of pictures was all I could do to avoid eating them all immediately.

Brussels Sprouts with Sriracha, Lime, and Honey inspired by The Vanderbilt in Prospect Heights

serves about 6 as a side dish

4 pounds brussels sprouts, root ends trimmed, halved if large 4 tablespoons honey 4 teaspoons sriracha (you might want to start with less if you're sensitive to spice) juice of 4 limes salt about 4 tablespoons grapeseed or other flavorless oil

Preheat the oven to 375. In a small bowl, combine honey and sriracha. Taste and adjust for spice level. Add lime juice and stir to combine. When the sauce has the perfect balance of spice, sweetness, and tartness, transfer it to a larger bowl and add sprouts. Toss to combine. Transfer sprouts to a rimmed baking sheet in a single layer, and drizzle remaining sauce overtop. Sprinkle with salt (a couple big pinches will be plenty), and drizzle the oil overtop. Bake for 25-30 minutes, depending on your oven, until sprouts are fully crisped outside, and soft but not mushy within. Serve immediately.