Fried Green Tomatoes


This southern treat is one of my favorites. It even works when (as here) your very green tomatoes turn more red than you care to admit overnight! People serve them with all sorts of condiments, but I like 'em plain, with just a sprinkling of salt once they're on the serving platter. They're super easy to make, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate the end of [green] tomato season.


Fried Green Tomatoes
serves 3 as an appetizer.

2 tomatoes
1/8 cup milk, cream, buttermilk, whatever
1 egg
1/2 cup flour
1 tsp. cayenne (more if desired)
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 tsp. sugar
butter or oil for frying (not olive oil)

Cut ends off tomatoes; slice remaining flesh into 3 or 4 1/2-inch rounds.
Mix egg and milk in one bowl; mix dry ingredients in the other.
Dip each round into the milk-egg mixture, then coat with the flour mixture on both sides.
Place on a baking sheet.
Repeat with all the rounds.
Heat a medium castiron skillet containing 1/2 an inch of oil to medium heat.
When a splash of flour sizzles in the skillet, place rounds 1/2-inch apart in skillet.
Fry 2-4 minutes, depending on heat. If they start to smoke, turn down the heat.
Flip, and cook an additional 1-2 minutes until golden brown and crispy.
Serve immediately.

There's no wrong way to cook

Really, there's no such thing as a wrong way to cook.

Yes, there are some exceptions to this rule. Baking is far fussier than cooking, and it's best to follow a recipe as precisely as one can manage (or at least to follow one of many successful wet-to-dry ingredient ratios when improvising).

But in cooking, this is a truly important rule of thumb. It occured to me this morning while scrolling through the comments that were posted on an entry by one of my favorite bloggers, Danielle over at Habeas Brulee. While most commenters offer compliments and thanks for posting any given recipe, there are always those who offer "corrections" to make a recipe just a bit more perfect.

That's fine and good -- aren't we all looking to perfect that apple pie recipe or really nail that tomato sauce? -- but the "corrections" offered are really nothing more than alternate methods. To one, the latter method may yield a better texture, a finer consistency, a more robust flavor -- but as we all know, these things are really matters of individual taste. My favorite chocolate chip cookie may seem to you too crumbly, hard, not big enough, too heavy on the cholocate...and on. But it's my favorite. Get my drift?

So when it comes to cooking, where proportions are flexible and the food can withstand a fair amount of tampering, a recipe is merely a suggestion. To my very recipe-loyal friends: remember that the cookbook isn't a rulebook. It's a guidebook. Change anything you like.

Just label your sugar and salt jars conspicuously.

Happy cooking!

The best buttermilk pancakes

It's hard to believe that I've spent the last 20-something years making whole-wheat, no-fat pancakes. I won't tell you that they taste bad, because they taste quite good. Especially with some homemade raspberry preserves. But they're the kind of things you can just pick up and pop in your mouth; they're pretty firm, pretty small, and pretty...eh. Let's put it this way: they're not in the same ballpark as the buttermilk pancakes I'll be making from now on. These are totally indulgent, not only calorie-wise, but time-wise as well. They involve three separate bowls, which is a definite downside -- but even as I'm such the one-pot cook, these pancakes are worth every last moment in the kitchen or at the gym. And the best part is that they taste no less wonderful when you substitute whole wheat for half the white flour, which is my preference. And about the buttermilk -- I admit, it's not something I keep in my fridge on a regular basis, but after today, I'll certainly be stocking it more often.


The Best Buttermilk Pancakes Recipe
adapted from Food and Wine Magazine, taken from Beltane Ranch
serves 4-6.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups unbleached flour -- I use half whole wheat
2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 cups buttermilk
6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 large eggs, separated and at room temperature
maple syrup

In a medium bowl, mix flour, baking soda and salt.
In a large bowl, mix milk, butter and egg yolks.
Whip egg whites until stiff peaks form.
Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir just until combined.
Using a rubber spatula, fold in egg whites gently, and stir just until combined.
Heat a lightly buttered castiron skillet over moderately low heat.
For each pancake, use 1/4-cup batter.
Let cook for about two minutes, or until top begins to set around the edges.
Flip and cook 30 seconds longer, then transfer to a 280-degree oven to keep warm while you cook the rest of these beauties.

Serve with good maple syrup and a big appetite.

A sweet sort of salad and a holiday dinner

On the first night of Sukkot (the Jewish holiday where we build funny booths and, if we're good, live in them for a week), I made a brisket so finger-lickin' that none was left over for sandwiches. Truthfully, I never plan recipes in advance, and I'm not one for precise measurements (as you may have noticed...) so making a brisket consists of taking sauces and spices out of my pantry and adding them to the pan, one by one, until it seems right. I can't taste the sauce as I go, since I add make it in the pan with the meat, but so far I haven't had any problems, so be it a flawed method, it's my method and I'm stickin' to it.

Anyway, the brisket was so good, I decided to make my chicken in exactly the same way: a mix of homemade tomato sauce, last night's red wine (a nice cheap cab), a splash of bbq sauce, a dash of soy sauce, sea salt and fresh pepper, and the key ingredient -- dried oranges and cranberries. The fruit infuse the sauce as it cooks, leaving you with an orange-scented brisket (or chicken) which deceives your guests with its complexity. Unfortunately, due to the holiday, I have no pics of the meat. Some other time though, promise.

About the salad....I wanted to bring the same orange scents into the salad I was serving, but dried oranges are rather unpleasant to eat, in my opinion, as they can be a bit leathery and slightly bitter. I decided instead to add some of the cranberries, which had absorbed much of the orange scent from being dried and roasted together. Their tart, citric quality complemented my salad of baby spinach, asian pear, carrot, and caramelized nuts. My vinaigrette was super simple: 2 parts dijon, 2 parts honey(I used buckwheat, which has a very distinctive flavor), 3 parts lemon juice, salt, pepper, cumin, and a health drizzle of olive oil whisked in. Try this one at home, folks -- it's a winner.