Roasted Cauliflower with Red Onion-Yogurt Sauce

It makes no sense to start a post about cauliflower with a public service announcement about plums. That said, I happened to pick up a bag of methly plums at the market a couple weeks ago; they were juicy and wet, sold as seconds because they were...on the verge. They were begging to be mushed with some sugar and made into jam. So I did it. And friends, that jam is so good, so utterly addictive, that I'm rather heartbroken methly plums are now out of season here. With that, the PSA: if methlys are still growing where you are, get a bag. Combine them with some sugar, some lemon juice, and some ground ginger, or better yet, some ground galangal. Cook until bubbly but still runny. Jar. Smear some on toast with a bit of fresh cheese. Summer has never, ever, tasted this good.

The dish I'm actually here to share with you won't win any awards for the summeriest dish around, but it's landed on our table four times in the past month, including twice for company. It's the thing Adi eats the most of right now - she can't seem to get enough cauliflower in the belly. And three of our guests have asked for the recipe, confirming that this is good enough to last beyond our family cauli kick.

The florets are blasted in a super-hot oven for a surprisingly long time. You'd think they come out total mush, but instead, they come out browned in spots, very crispy, and fully cooked but still with bite.

But the real magic is the sauce: a beautiful, pink-hued yogurt blended with sauteed, caramel-edged red onions. The onions get soft enough to disappear completely into the yogurt, lending a sweet-savory depth that goes ridiculously well with singed cauliflower. Vinegar-soaked raisins and some mint leaves round out the salad. I can't get enough of it; none of us can, really.

I'm always looking for dishes that work well together as part of a menu, and last night's meal pretty much hit the jackpot for me as far as menus that fit in my schedule without requiring too many concessions or short cuts, so I thought I'd share it. We had rosé night with our wine club, and I made dishes whose flavors I thought would complement rosés. I got some planning help from my buddies Jennifer Hess and Mike Dietsch, via twitter, so they deserve some credit for pulling this dinner party together. The menu was as follows:

• Chilled curried summer squash soup, adapted from Saveur
• Molasses-roasted salmon, roasted in the morning and chilled served cold
• Tomato salad with spiced brown butter, inspired by this recipe (soon on the blog!)
• Pissaladiere, made in advance and reheated in a warm oven before serving
• Cauliflower with red onion yogurt sauce (recipe below), roasted in advance; served at room temperature
• Peach crisp (adapted from this recipe)
• Vanilla ice cream

This is a menu that I can see reusing in the future. Except for the salmon, which I assembled before lunch, I made pretty much everything during Adi's two-hour nap. The only a-la-minute prep required was to assemble the cauliflower salad, reheat the (baked, pre-sliced) pissaladiere, and dress the tomatoes. I felt less in the weeds as a host than I have in eons. That's what summer's all about.

Roasted Cauliflower with Red Onion-Yogurt Sauce

As you can see in the photos above, I tossed some zucchini coins in with the cauliflower. Highly recommend.

Serves 4 as a side

1 large head of cauliflower
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided salt and pepper
1 small or 1/2 a large red onion, cut into a large dice
Juice of 1 lemon Turkish or other fragrant dried red chile, to taste
1 cup Greek yogurt
1/4 cup red raisins or currants
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
a sprig of mint

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Cut the cauliflower into roughly 1-inch florets. Spread in a single layer on a rimmed 13x17 baking sheet; drizzle with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast, turning florets halfway through baking, until browned on both sides and cooked through but not mushy. For me, this takes about 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and set aside.

Meanwhile, add remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil to a small saucepan and set over medium heat. When oil shimmers, add diced onion and a couple pinches of salt and pepper. Stir to coat in the oil, then cover saucepan and cook for about 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are mostly translucent but caramelized around the edges and very fragrant. Unlike caramelized onions, which are made over a low, slow burner, these are cooked over higher heat, resulting in a translucent onion with slightly browned/frizzled edges. If your heat is lower or your onions are taking longer to soften and cook, don't rush them; they're the basis of the yogurt sauce, so you really want to coax as much flavor out of them as possible.

Set onions aside to cool for 5-10 minutes, then add to a blender with any residual oil, and the yogurt, lemon juice, a pinch each of salt and pepper, and a pinch of the red chile. Blend, first on low, then on high; add water by the tablespoon if your blender is struggling to catch. When mixture is smooth, stop the blender and taste; add more salt, pepper, chile, or lemon as needed.

To serve, plate cauliflower on a shallow platter. Sprinkle currants/raisins evenly over the dish. Drizzle yogurt sauce over cauliflower, and finish with a few strewn mint leaves. Serve with extra yogurt sauce on the side.

Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint

I think I speak for all of us on the east coast when I say, FINALLY. Winter can see its sorry self out the door for another nine months or so. I'm preoccupied by my true loves, the asparagus that have arrived,* and I can't bring myself to talk about much of anything else.

*As I'm writing this, asparagus season hasn't really started here in Washington.** Usually I'm a stickler, waiting with embarrassing impatience for local farmers to harvest their crop. But this year, weeks after I ran out of creative uses for beets and kale, the asparagus still hadn't made their debut at my farmers' market, and yet there they were on display at the Whole Foods, skinny little bundles of asparagus from California. Are they as good as the ones grown nearby? Not even close. But I figure since all my citrus comes from the west coast anyway, I may as well start spring vegetable season a bit early, too.

This is a great recipe for those transitional weeks, when the produce isn't gleaming and perfect. The WF asparagus had a longer woody stem than I'm used to, so I removed those and sliced the rest of the spear on the bias into short coins. Over medium-high heat, I sauteed them rather unevenly in plenty of butter, so some just barely cooked through while others got nicely browned and crisp.

There's pretty much nothing you can do to mess up a good slice of bread slathered with ricotta. Adding browned, buttery asparagus: not an exception. To keep things bright, I ran to a flavor combination that I think I originally saw in the Zuni Cafe cookbook: pistachios, orange, mint.

If you time things right, you'll catch the tail end of citrus season: these toasts really benefit from the zest of a good orange (or blood orange) and the juice from a meyer lemon.

The weather's still bouncing back and forth here, one day as beautiful as it gets and the next cold and rainy. Spring isn't predictable, but there's one thing I can guarantee the coming weeks will bring: plenty more asparagus recipes.

** In the end, it took me almost a week to get this post live, and as of right this very instant, ASPARAGUS SEASON HAS STARTED!!

Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint
Makes 4 toasts

1 small bunch (about 8 spears) asparagus, rinsed and trimmed, sliced into 2-inch pieces
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
salt and pepper
1/4 teaspoon chile flakes (I like Turkish chile)
zest of half an orange or one lemon
1/3 cup good ricotta
4 half-slices of very good crusty bread (I like sourdough)
leaves from one sprig of mint, rinsed and torn into small pieces
2 tablespoons salted (shelled) pistachios, coarsely chopped
small wedge of lemon

Heat butter in a small saute pan over medium heat. When butter foams, add asparagus and a pinch each of salt and pepper. Add turkish chile and citrus zest. Cook, tossing pan occasionally to prevent sticking, until asparagus are on the crunchy side of tender and golden brown in spots; I found that this took around 3-4 minutes for stalks on the thin side. Set pan aside and allow asparagus to cool slightly.

Toast bread in a toaster or hot oven to your liking. (I'm a golden girl.) Spread a thick layer of ricotta onto the toast slices, and divide the asparagus spears evenly among the toasts. Finish with a pinch of mint, a sprinkle of pistachios, and a squeeze of lemon. Serve immediately.

Lentils and Rice with Tamarind Sauce and Dukkah

As someone who rarely eats meat and almost never makes it to the fishmonger, I'm always on the lookout for vegetarian main dishes that don't just feel large side dishes. Mujadarra is one of my favorites: basmati rice, Puy lentils, and lots of spiced yogurt for serving and scooping.

This here is another rice+lentils creation, the idea for which came from a couple of Food52 recipes. The first is a pistachio dukkah, which I've had my eye on for a while; do you know all about dukkah already? It's pretty new to me, and altogether delightful: a combination of nuts, seeds, and spices that's technically a condiment but very easily slips into savory granola territory. The Food52 folks warned me that I might shovel this stuff straight into my mouth, and that's pretty much what happened. Fortunately, I made a double batch.

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The other recipe was for lentils and rice with tamarind sauce, which rather ingeniously called for tempering nigella seeds before mixing them with tamarind paste. Nigella seeds are a favorite discovery from my time living in Jerusalem: their flavor is subtle, a bit like caraway but less severe and more mysterious. I don't use them nearly enough.

Combined, these two recipes became a pretty magical vegetarian main: a pile of rice and lentils drizzled with tamarind sauce, sprinkled with crunchy dukkah, and served with a scoop of yogurt. It'd be great alongside curried tofu or salmon with Indian spices, but it's substantial and interesting enough to stand on its own.

In other news, our kitchen is finally finished; I can't wait to share pictures now that it's ready for its glamour shot. Stay tuned.

And looking through photos for this post, I realized that I managed to make a rather astonishing amount of food while the kitchen project was underway. I owe you homemade chilaquiles (with homemade tortilla chips that are easy, really!), a walnut cake, and the best chocolate tart I've ever made, scouts' honor. Let's get to it.

Lentils and Rice with Dukkah and Tamarind Sauce
Adapted from a couple recipes on Food52
Serves 4 as a main, 6 as a side

For the rice and lentils:
1 1/2 cups (scant 10 oz.) brown rice
1 cup (7 oz.) green lentils

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons coconut oil (or substitute vegetable oil or ghee)
1 tablespoon nigella seeds
1/4 cup tamarind puree
3 teaspoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

For the dukkah:
3 tablespoons coriander seeds
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1/2 cup shelled pistachio nuts
1/4 cup sesame seeds
3 tablespoons unsweetened shredded coconut
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

For serving:
Yogurt
Chopped cilantro, fennel fronds, minced chives, or another green herb

Make rice and lentils: Fill a large pot with water, add a big pinch of salt, and bring to a boil over high heat. Add rice, and cook for 35-40 minutes, until rice is cooked through but retains its bite. 10 minutes into the cooking time, add lentils; the two should be done at about the same time. Drain and set aside.

Make the dukkah: Toast coriander and cumin seeds in a small skillet over medium heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Allow spices to cool completely before transferring to a spice grinder or mortar and pestle and grinding. Transfer ground spices to a mixing bowl.

Meanwhile, roast nuts in the same small skillet until golden, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a cutting board and finely chop. Transfer to mixing bowl. Add sesame seeds to the skillet and toast until golden brown, about 2 minutes, then transfer to mixing bowl. Finally, toast coconut in the skillet, stirring constantly until golden, about 2 minutes. Add to mixing bowl. Add salt and pepper, and adjust spices/s&p as needed.

Make sauce: In the same skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add nigella seeds and cook for about 1 minute; they might sputter a bit, so be careful. Remove from heat. Add tamarind puree and brown sugar (again, might sputter), stirring to combine. Add salt and combine. Taste and adjust salt/sugar as needed.

To serve: Scoop a portion of rice and lentils onto a plate. Drizzle with a spoonful of tamarind sauce, sprinkle with dukkah, and top with a dollop of yogurt and a pinch of herbs.

Big Kale Salad with Pomegranate and Feta

A few days ago, I sat on our couch in stretchy leggings, nursing a mug of my favorite chai and watching Adi figure out what hands are. She brought them really close to her face and just stared, turning them slowly, trying to figure out whether they were attached to something, or someone, and what they might be there for.  And I realized, as I watched her patiently, painstakingly, unrelentingly trying to figure out her limbs, that this first chapter of parenthood might already be behind me.

I've got so many photos and videos of Adi cooing and laughing and doing sweet, adorable, hilarious things that my icloud won't sync. Among those photos are a few hastily snapped shots of the salads we've been eating for dinner, and the (very simple) stews I've been making on the weekends to feed us at work. My real camera is lurking neglected in some corner of our house, patiently waiting for our kitchen to be not 90% done, not 97% done, but actually, 100% done. (Did I mention we're redoing our kitchen? This seemed like the ideal time, because, you know, we don't have much else going on. We're waiting for it to be done, too, but not so patiently.)

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Since the above pics were taken, we got a fresh coat of paint, cabinet hardware, and a few more finishing details in place. I tell myself that once the granite is installed and the moving boxes are gone, I'll start blogging in earnest again, with the same frequency as before Adi was here. But that's probably not realistic. Life is busier now. There's less time, which means fewer fussy recipes, and fewer pictures. The whole enterprise of eating feels different these days; I'm proud if I manage to bake off a loaf of (no-knead) bread in time for Sunday breakfast. When dinner isn't one of my increasingly-becoming-my-specialty salads, it's a bag of soup or beans from the freezer. As I slowly but surely draw down my stash of frozen meals, I wonder when I'll have a chance to replenish it.

So what does this mean? If I had to guess, I'd bet on more posts about fast lunches and dinners, and fewer tales of day-long projects. Hopefully that's good news; everyone is busy, and everyone could use some inspiration when it comes to good, healthy, non-fussy meal options.

So here's one to start: plenty of kale, pounded soft. Diced cucumbers. A can of chickpeas. Feta cheese, pomegranate seeds, fresh croutons. That, and a couple clementines, was our dinner last Monday. And even though the weather outside was a biting, blustery, rather unbearable 5 degrees, we managed to eat salad for dinner - and feel full and satisfied and not sad that we didn't eat soup. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

I start the croutons on the stove, then transfer them to the oven so they don't char too much. I tear up the kale and dice the cucumbers while the croutons toast, so everything is ready at about the same time. As for the pomegranates, I tend to prep two at once, then stow the seeds in a container in the fridge for a la minute use. You can also buy the seeds ready to go at TJs and other grocery stores.

If you don't have pomegranate seeds in the house, don't despair. One night last week, I added in some grapefruit segments. Chickpeas became cooked cannellini beans from the freezer, and I added some slivered radish for crunch. The template is a big pile of kale, a simple vinaigrette, and enough croutons that dinner doesn't feel overly virtuous. Everything else is customizable. It's a winner, even in winter, and a staple once the chill starts to thaw.

Big Kale Salad with Pomegranates and Feta
Serves 2

1 big bunch Tuscan kale, leaves removed from ribs and torn into large pieces
2 thick slices of bread, cubed or torn into bite-sized pieces
1/4 cup olive oil, divided
2 Persian (small, crunchy) cucumbers, diced
Seeds from half a pomegranate
Slice of a red onion, diced
8 oz. chickpeas (half a can), rinsed
salt and pepper
1/4 cup feta cheese, crumbled
juice of 1/2 a lemon
1 tablespoon champagne or white wine vinegar

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Put the kale in a large mixing bowl and massage the leaves lightly with your hands, to break up the fibrous texture and soften them.

Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a frying pan (I like cast iron) over medium heat. Add bread cubes and a light sprinkle of salt, and cook 2-3 minutes, until crisped on the bottom side. Turn croutons, then transfer to the oven for 8-10 minutes while you assemble the rest of the salad.

In a small bowl, combine remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil, lemon juice, and vinegar. Add a large pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper; whisk to combine.

Add remaining salad ingredients to the bowl with the kale. Drizzle dressing over salad, and toss to combine. Remove the croutons from the oven (careful – they’re hot!) and add them to the salad. Toss to combine, and serve.