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.

Steelcut Oatmeal with Peach Compote

Is it obvious I love breakfast? Between french toast casserole, cinnamon buns, vintage breakfast biscuits, shakshuka, and even simple bites like this one, I seem to have found my obsession. In keeping with my breakfast trend, here's another maddeningly simple morning meal option: steelcut oats.

What are steelcut oats? They're oats, really -- but unlike quick oats, which are essentially slices of oats, steelcut oats are like large crumbs. They look more like Grape Nuts than Quaker. They're also quite firm; they don't crumble in your hand the way quick oats can. They take about 25 minutes to cook fully, which means you need to have a bit of time to cook'em up. But if you've got the time, you'll be handsomely rewarded: cooked steelcut oats are like a thicker, homier version of grits or polenta, with a distinctly nutty flavor and lovely pot liquor. I also add a pinch of salt to the water for contrast, and a daub of butter at the end, a la Mandy, because it makes breakfast more luxurious. In my humble opinion, oatmeal is best topped with a splash of milk or half and half, and either a dollop of jam or a spoonful of fresh fruit compote. In this case, I used my very last summer peach to make a lovely quick compote that went perfectly with the oatmeal.

These steelcut oats make a lovely break from my weekday morning routine, but oatmeal's really a splendid breakfast, anyway you cut it.

Steelcut Oatmeal with Peach Compote 1 cup steelcut oats 2 cups water a pinch of salt 1 Tbsp butter, optional

In a small pot, bring water and salt to a boil. Add oats, stir to incorporate, and turn heat down to low. Let oatmeal simmer, stirring regularly, for about 25 minutes, until water is absorbed and remaining liquid is thick, as with grits or polenta.

While oatmeal is cooking, make peach compote:

1 peach 2-3 Tbsp. sugar 1 tsp. cinnamon pinch salt 1/2 cup water splash white wine, optional

Combine all ingredients in a small saute pan. Simmer over medium heat until liquid is reduced and syrupy, about 10-15 minutes.

Serve oatmeal in deep, comfort-food bowls, with cream and peach compote (or jam, or even maple syrup. yum.)

Conquering Macarons

If there is an ultimate test for baking aficionados, it is the very delicate, very complex, and oh-so-French macaron. If you've never had them, here's the best description I can muster: two thin almond-flour-meringue cookies sandwich a restrained but sumptuous layer of cream. The flavor possibilities and combinations are endless. There's something irresistable -- something almost addictive -- about these delicate little cookies, not least of which is the challenge of making them properly. Perhaps that's why I've never bothered to try. Instead, I just take the occasional stroll to Leopold's during my lunch hour, and buy a triple threat -- one chocolate, one pistachio, and one raspberry. Why bother to make'em when they're available down the block?

I'll tell you why. Having read enough posts from other bloggers who make macarons successfully, I've come to understand that there's no greater accomplishment in the baking world than a tray full of perfect macarons. If I'm to consider myself worth my salt, I've got to master macarons.

What about making macarons is so difficult, you ask? Well, first there's the batter: it deflates when mixed, yet is meant to produce airy little cookies. Then there's the piping of the cookies onto the baking sheet: perfect circles is a must, ideally perfectly spaced as well. When made properly, macarons should have a "foot" -- a little rim around the bottom of the cookie that looks especially airy and slightly smaller in diameter than the rest of the cookie. Finally, they should, under no circumstances, be cracked on top.

I wouldn't try these on just any old day, and Friday night was anything but. The Masseys invited D and me to a dinner party; also on the invite list were two law professors and their families, one of whom is a very prominent expert on the US Constitution. I know what you're thinking: who are we to keep such company? Don't worry, we've been thinking the exact same thing. We're still reeling from that dinner party -- the food, the company, even the after-dinner concerts by the children (all fabulously talented musicians). An event like this doesn't happen every day. With special company in mind, I decided to try my hand at tackling a very special dessert.

Lest you develop fantasies in your head of everything working perfectly for me the first time around, think again. Just look at the pictures here -- see all the nooks and crannies? My macarons were cracked all over. They didn't really have much of a foot (though it was bigger than on some other bloggers' first tries, which makes me feel a bit better), and I don't think they had quite the right texture, either. I little too crisp, compared to what I'm used to. But this was round one, folks; consider my primed for the next macaron battle.

And dare I say it? Cracks and all, they were ever the hit.

lazy boozy french toast casserole

Since having surgery on my foot, my time in the kitchen has been severely limited. It pretty much hurts to stand still for more than a few minutes, and I can't put much pressure on the foot yet. My left foot is taking a serious hit, what with all the hopping and limping, so standing on one foot to cook complex, multi-step dishes is also not an option. With this in mind, I've had to curtail my everyday zeal about being in the kitchen, and limit my cooking to practical dishes requiring little to no prep.

When at last Saturday's lunch we found ourselves with a whole extra challah, I somehow got tapped to take it home. And people, I think we all know that there are few things better than day-old challah french toast on a lazy Sunday. With that said, soon as I woke up on Sunday morning, I realized that the absolute last thing I wanted to do was hover at the stove, waiting for all those slices to soak and fry up. It just wasn't going to happen.

Enter awesome Deb of Smitten Kitchen, and her recipe for Boozy Baked French Toast. The perfect antidote to both hunger and laziness, baked french toast allows you to enjoy this fantastic weekend breakfast without all the prep work. The result? A cross between french toast and bread pudding; not your usual crunchy-all-around slices of fried french toast, but a lovely casserole with soft, custardy innards and a crisp crust, thanks to cinnamon sugar topping.

Of course, some of us procrastinate more than others; Deb had the foresight to make her casserole overnight, giving the bread time to soak up the milk-egg mixture. I'm simply not that awesome. I woke up Sunday morning wanting French toast casserole, having done absolutely nothing the night before. But hey -- I made it work. I cut the milk by a third, so there would be less liquid floating around. I also dotted the top layer with butter, to ensure that the cinnamon sugar would get crispity-crisp. My last-minute game plan totally payed off. About 40 minutes after french toast casserole entered my head, it entered my mouth. Oh-so-tasty. Maybe I'm awesome after all.

Lazy Boozy French Toast Casserole adapted from Smitten Kitchen

1 loaf Challah bread in 1-inch slices, any kind will do 2 cups whole milk (3 if letting sit overnight) 3 eggs 3 tablespoons sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt

Your choice of flavorings: I used Deb's recommendation of 3 tablespoons Bailey’s and 3 tablespoons Cointreau, but she also suggests Frangelico (hazelnut), Chambord (raspberry), Creme de Cassis (black currant) Grand Marnier or just a teaspoon or two of vanilla or almond extract. You can add a teaspoon of zest for a citrusy kick, add a half-cup of chopped nuts such as almond slivers or pecans between layers or on top or a similar amount of raisins or other dried fruits. And of course, let's not forget chocolate chips for over-the-top indulgence.

1. Generously grease a 9×13-inch baking dish with salted (Deb's fave) or unsalted butter. 2. Arrange bread in two tightly-packed layers in the pan. Cut one slice into smaller pieces to fill in gaps, especially when using braided Challah. If using a thinner-sliced bread, you might wish for more layers, though Deb finds that over three, baking can be uneven. If you are using any fillings of fruit or nuts, this is the time to get them between the layers or sprinkled atop. 3. Whisk milk, eggs, sugar, salt and booze or flavorings of your choice and pour over the bread. Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar and dot with butter. 4. If making at night, wrap tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate. The bread will absorb all of the milk custard while you sleep. 5. Bake at 425 for 30 minutes, or until puffed and golden. This will take longer if you have additional layers. 6. Cut into generous squares and serve with maple syrup, fresh fruit, powdered sugar or all of the above.

Serves 6 as main course.