Cauliflower Soup

Keeping kosher has its fair share of... challenges. Never have I cooked a meat dish that has any sort of dairy product, be it cream or even butter. When I make meat for dinner, dessert can't have butter in it. I don't use shortening, which makes things rather difficult. Butter aside, one great sacrifice of kosher cooking is not being able to use pancetta. Now I can't say for sure that it's actually a sacrifice -- after all, I've never actually had pancetta -- but I think it's safe to say that it's one of the most oft-used flavorings for vegetables, soups, and stews of all kinds.

When I came across a beautiful cauliflower at the farmers market a couple weeks ago, I knew I'd be experimenting with cauliflower soup recipes. I came home and began poking around my cookbooks and recipe sites in search of promising combinations, but almost every recipe I found called for some form of pig. And I can understand why: pancetta, bacon and the like provide the perfect smoky, meaty background flavor against which the mild, creamy, fresh-tasting cauliflower really shines. I started to feel a bit handicapped -- as though no amount of searching would product an all-vegetarian recipe that would have real flavor.

Fortunately, I didn't dispair. I just decided to conduct an innocent little test, using none other than Morningstar Farms Bacon Strips. For those of us who've never tried bacon, Morningstar makes a pretty tasty imitation. Their strips are smoky and salty, and if you fry them over super-low heat for a while, they even get nice and crispy. I eat them all the time for breakfast, but I'd never thought to use them in place of bacon in recipes -- until now.

I chopped two strips into bits, and fried them in olive oil with a bit of garlic and onion. Once the onion was somewhat browned, I added two cups of water to stop the cooking. I then added three more cups of water, and 1 whole cauliflower, chopped into florets. I sprinkled salt and pepper, grated a bit of nutmeg, and dropped a parmiggiano rind in before popping the cover on and letting it simmer away. Once the cauliflower was cooked through and soft, I ggggg-ed away with my immersion blender until the soup was completely smooth. Taking inspiration from an epicurious recipe, I topped each bowl with a shaving of parmiggiano and a drizzle of white truffle oil. Totally vegetarian, totally delicious

Cauliflower Soup adapted from Bon Appetit

2 ounces applewood-smoked bacon (about 2 1/2 slices), chopped (I used Morningstar farms) 1 cup chopped onion 3/4 cup chopped celery 2 garlic cloves, chopped 6 cups 1-inch pieces cauliflower (cut from 1 large head) 3-6 cups liquid: low-salt chicken broth and water are both fine 1 3/4-inch cube Pecorino Romano or Parmiggiano Reggiano cheese plus additional cheese shavings for serving

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, optional (I didn't use it) White or black truffle oil (for drizzling) preparation

Sauté bacon in heavy large saucepan over medium heat until golden brown and some fat renders. Add onion, celery, and garlic. Cover and cook until vegetables are soft, stirring occasionally, about 7 minutes. Add about 5 cups water (less for thicker soup), cauliflower, and cheese cube. Bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until cauliflower is tender, about 20 minutes.

Puree soup in batches in processor. Return to same pan. Add cream if desired, and bring soup to simmer. Thin with more broth by 1/4 cupfuls if desired. Season with salt and pepper. Cool slightly; cover and chill. Can be made 1 day ahead.

To serve: reheat soup. Ladle into bowls. Sprinkle with cheese shavings; drizzle with truffle oil.

Summer vegetable (and fish) stew

If you're anything like me, your fridge is swimming with zucchini and corn, your counters teeming with beautiful tomatoes. Not that I'm complaining, mind you -- I wouldn't dare, with summer produce this close to done -- I'm just saying, I've got three bumper crops and I don't even have a garden. What's a girl to do?

Not fret, that's for sure. I've found countless] great sources for ideas to use up the big three. Not to mention the inner-workings of my own crazy imagination...which led to this summer vegetable (and fish) stew. The fish in () because it's optional. (Not that everything in this recipe isn't optional -- hell, you could change the stew entirely for all I care -- but I've been told by my friends that I need to be more assertive and instructive, less "just do what you want"ish. I'm trying.) You want to know a secret? I didn't plan on making this a fish stew at all. I planned on making braised zucchini-ratatouille dish, then pan-frying some turbot fillets and laying them nicely on top. All went as planned, until I flipped my fillets (which were doing beautifully in a generous helping of browned butter). I'd hoped for them to have a nice, crisp browned crust, but instead the grains had separated and stuck to the bottom of the pan and it didn't look pretty at all. For your sake -- so that you wouldn't have to look at a picture of a yummy-ugly dish -- I took the ratatouille, tossed it right back in the pan, and started spearing the fillets with my spatula to break them up a bit. As I finished them off in the ratatouille, they started to break down a bit, forming a nice-looking stew. I served the stew (to myself and D) with a slice of good, crusty sourdough, which proved ideal for mopping up the juices at the bottom of my bowl. What started as a mistake ended...quite nicely, if you ask me.

I also want to take a moment and pay homage to the humble celery. I often hate on celery, having disliked its taste when raw for quite some time, and having dreaded those ants-on-a-log snacks as a kid. I buy it almost never -- in fact, the last time I bought it was probably in college. But I had a bunch left over from the caponata, and I thought that since this stew was a clean-the-fridge stew anyway, could adding a little celery hurt? No, it most certainly couldn't. And sure enough, celery's flavor was awesome in the stew. Can I describe how so? Nope. Maybe you should try it and see for yourself?

Summer vegetable (and fish) stew

• olive oil
• 2 stalks celery, minced
• 1/2 a yellow onion, minced
• 2 cloves garlic, sliced
• carrot, if you'd like (I didn't have any but a handful minced would do)
• 1 tomato, chopped
• 1 bay leaf, optional
• 1 zucchini or yellow squash, or three of those small summer squash, cut vertically into thick slices

<1/2 cup liquid (stock, wine, and water will all work)

• salt and pepper
• 1 Tablespoon butter
• 2 fillets turbot or other white, mild fish (total a bit more than half a pound)

In a heavy bottomed saute pan over medium heat, add a few Tbsp. of olive oil, and sweat the onion and garlic until very aromatic and translucent, about 2 minutes. Add bay leaf, celery, and carrots, if using, and continue to cook until soft, about 5-6 minutes. Add zucchini/squash and saute until browned, about 4 minutes. Add tomato, stir to incorporate, and add a bit of your liquid of choice, to scrape up the little bits that have gathered on the bottom of the pan. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Continue to add liquid gradually, cooking for an additional 3-4 minutes until it all comes together. Remove from heat, transfer to a bowl, and wipe out pan. (If you're not adding the fish, taste and adjust, and serve.)

Blot fillets dry with paper towels and season liberally. Heat the butter in the same pan over medium heat until bubbly and starting to brown. Add fillets. Once in the pan, don't move them around all too much -- you want them to develop color and crispness. After about 2 minutes, flip. At this point, if yours turn out as mine did, there'll be little brown bits of fish deliciousness, and that's ok. Start cutting into the fish with your spatula, breaking up the fillets into smaller pieces. Then add the vegetables back into the pan, toss to mix, and cook for an additional 3-4 minutes until fish is fully cooked (but not too cooked), and serve in big, homey bowls with nice, crusty sourdough bread. YUM.

Portobello Burgers

Until two nights ago, I'd never made a portobello burger. Hard to believe, I know. It's, like, the simplest thing to make. Like, ever. And yet I somehow managed to make chocolate pretzels, potato foccacia, even Buche De Noel before getting around to this dead-simple dinner. Well, we've remedied that, folks, yes we have -- and it certainly won't be the last time I do it. Some facts about portobello burgers: they're freakin' easy. And tasty. Did I mention easy? Oh, and they're uber-versatile. Like last night, for example, D ate hers as she would a normal burger: pickles, honey mustard, tomato, bbq sauce. I had mine like a true snob: taleggio cheese, avocado, heirloom tomato, pesto, on ciabatta bread. Delicious either way, we'll both assure you. And really, took approximately 8 minutes to cook. I don't have a grill or grill pan, but I used a very hot castiron pan and it did the trick.

Will I be making these again? Uh, you bet. It's a non-recipe, but if you need step-by-step instructions, find them here, here, and here.

Portobello Burgers

Bun or roll (I used ciabatta) portobello mushroom, rinsed and stem removed 2 slices cheese: I used taleggio, but bleu, chedder, fontina, smoked mozzarella, or pepper jack would be lovely, among others toppings of all sorts. some suggestions: - cabbage, orange segments, teriyaki sauce - lettuce, tomato, mustard, pickles - lettuce, avocado, tomato, pesto - roasted red pepper, kalamata olives, feta, parsley - I could go on and on, you get the drift, yes?

Marinate the portobello for about 10-15 minutes in some sort of liquid (bbq sauce, teriyaki, pesto and olive oil and vinegar, etc).

Heat a heavy-bottomed stainless steel or castiron pan over medium-high heat. When the pan is hothot, drizzle a bit of olive oil in the pan, and immediately plunk down the mushroom, rounded side down. It'll sizzle away; that's a good sign. Meanwhile, toast your bread and gather your other ingredients for easy assembly.

Your burger should form a nice "crust" on the top of the cap after about 4 minutes in the pan; at that point, flip it over and cook another few minutes. Pile your burger with toppings, slice in half, and enjoy!

Price Comparison - local heirloom tomatoes: 3.99 per pound (definitely more expensive than hothouse tomatoes but soo much tastier) - portobellos, from the market, 3 bucks for 2; at the store, 6 oz (approx. 4) for 5 bucks - avocados, organic, not local (from CA): 2.39 a piece - pesto -- homemade from a gallon-size bag of basil, which cost 7 bucks

LocalSeasonal Take 1: Caponata

If I may say so myself, tonight was a smashing success. A whole day into my challenge and I'm still thrilled that I took it on! On the menu this evening was kalamata olive sourdough bread from the market, homemade eggplant caponata, and greens with heirloom tomatoes, feta, and red onions that I pickled in fresh-squeezed lime juice till they turned a beautiful shade of purple.

Some thoughts on preparing and eating tonight's dinner:

• This is really the clincher, I think -- everything just tasted so fresh. The heirlooms were bursting with juices, like perfect summer tomatoes should. The greens -- a mixture of spinach and arugula, also from the market -- were beautiful and quirkily shaped, not like th uniformly-chopped salad greens you can by at the store. They were also super fresh, the arugula nice and spicy. Even the caponata, which I made with tomato sauce that I cooked up this weekend, tasted fresh. It doesn't take much to sell me on the virtues of maximizing fresh produce in my cooking, now does it?
• The irony about cooking and preparing such fresh produce is that while my mouth waters at the site of my farmers market bounty far more than it does with the contents of a Safeway grocery run, I also eat so much more slowly when what's on my plate smacks with fresh-homemade-ness. When the food isn't fresh, or isn't in season, or for some other reason doesn't taste its best, I tend to just shovel it in and scarf it down mindlessly. When dinner is as fantastic as it was tonight, I find myself savoring every bite, thus feeling full earlier and eating less. I made like the French tonight -- I ate 1 slice of bread, 1 ladleful of caponata, and 1 helping of salad; and I didn't go back for seconds.



• There's something sensual about cooking with local, seasonal ingredients. For one thing, they're more delicate. I wash them, dry them, chop them, and generally handle them with far more care then when I'm chopping up a couple winter tomatoes (which I hope to buy less, by the way). Time with myself in the kitchen has always been therapeutic and restorative for me; all the more so when I'm working with the best produce summer has to offer.
• Some of you no doubt are thinking that I picked a mighty convenient time to do this -- at the height of summer's produce boon. And you'd be right! No way around that. But I will say that there are few things I love more than a good winter stew -- and there are few things more comforting to cook as well. So without making any promises, I imagine that I might take away from this experience a desire to eat seasonally even when the season has limited produce to offer.

Are any of you out there trying this or something like it? If so, do share your stories! For now, here's a blueprint for the caponata I made tonight. As I made it by taste-and-adjust, there's no precise recipe. You'll just have to get in there and try it yourself. :)

Caponata

Olive oil (at least 1/4 cup) 1 medium to large eggplant, firm and shiny, in 1-inch cubes 1 1/2 cups tomato sauce or crushed tomatoes 1 small red or yellow onion, chopped 1 stalk celery, chopped very fine 4 cloves garlic, peeled and kept whole 2 Tbsp capers 1/3 cup raisins, dried cranberries, cherries, or currants 1 cup white wine 1/4 cup white wine or cider vinegar several sprigs of mint dried marjoram, oregano, tarragon, or other herbs salt and pepper chili flakes

In a heavy bottomed large saute pan, heat a healthy dose (a few Tbsp) olive oil on medium-high. Add eggplant and toss around the pan, allowing to scorch in places, about 4 minutes. After the eggplant is browned and softened a bit, remove and place into a bowl off the heat. Add a few more Tbsp of oil, turn heat to medium-low, and add onions and garlic, allowing to cook just until they start to brown. When that happens, add the celery, brown a bit, then add eggplant back into the pan, and add a bit of the wine, just to deglaze the bottom of the pan. Add the tomato sauce, and toss or stir to coat. Add the herbs, the capers and the dried cranberries/raisins/whatever, as well as a bit more of the wine (total about 2/3 cup). Cover the pan and allow to simmer, on low heat, for at least 20 minutes until the garlic is soft and mushy, the raisins/cranberries are plumped a bit, and the eggplant is soft. From here on out, it's a game of taste and adjust. If needed, add more wine. If the flavoring tastes right to you, just add water if you need to thin it out. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve room temperature, hot, or cold, with sliced [I like toasted] crusty bread, and perhaps a few cheeses.

Price Information: eggplant from the farmers market, 1.69 per pound 1.67 per eggplant at the store beefsteak tomatoes from the market, 2.50 per pound 1 dollar each at the store greens from the market, 5 dollars for half a pound 6 oz. for 3.79 at the store -- about equal heirloom tomatoes from the market, 3.99 per pound not available at my store herbed feta cheese, 9.75 per pound at the market 8.58 per pound and nowhere near as good! half a kalamata sourdough at the market, 2.50 price varies -- can you get half a loaf at your store?

On balance, I definitely think I came out ahead here, and the price differential is slim to none in most cases. Food for thought...