zucchini makes an easy soup

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Basic recipe: Cook zucchini (and/or yellow squash which is what we had) in broth and then puree it. HERE is the recipe.

Notes: I didn't have creme fraiche on hand (who does?) so I used some Ricotta and a little milk but you could use cream cheese or plain yogurt. Or nothing--the cream just gives it a little richer taste. I added the sherry vinegar right to the soup but you can also serve on top of each bowl. It's a very mild yet tangy soup which any kid who eats soup would like. You could even throw in a few noodles! And it really can be served hot or cold. Make a batch and freeze half for November. 

There is another recipe for zucchini soup via Grant Achatz that I also love and is only a tiny bit more complicated but richer and better for a party. 

time for beans and greens

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It's veggie/healthy/detox week here at the Casa Moshan. We have indulged in rich food and drink for too long and need a break. So this weekend I got out my healthy cookbooks: Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food II. And last night, as the temperatures outside dropped to 5 degrees, I made an adapted version of her White Bean and Broccoli Rabe Soup (recipe below).

A few months ago I paid $65 to see her speak about food and wound up drinking a plastic cup of water in a middle school auditorium while the speakers crackled and buzzed and I could barely hear her answers to inane questions like "How did you start cooking?"

But I gotta say this soup was perfect. I altered the original a bit: bacon instead of pancetta, canned white beans instead of dried chickpeas, and simplified it (ie no fresh herbs which I never have on hand.) But it was super satisfying and a good model for hearty winter soups in general-use any beans, any greens, etc.

White Bean and Broccoli Rabe Soup

  • 2 slices bacon, chopped
  • 2 carrots, diced
  • 2 celery stalks, diced
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 1 tsp spices: dried oregano, cayenne, salt, pepper
  • 4 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 can white beans
  • 2 cups stock and 2 cups water
  • 1 bunch of broccoli rabe; washed, drained, and coarsely chopped
  1. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and bacon and cook for 3 minutes.
  2. Add carrots and celery and cook until soft, about 15 minutes. Turn down the heat if the vegetables start to brown too quickly.
  3. Add salt, pinch of cayenne, 1 tsp dried oregano, pepper, garlic and beans. Cook for 3 minutes
  4. Add beans and their liquid, plus 2 cups broth and 2 cups water. Bring to a boil then simmer for 10-15 minutes.
  5. Throw in the broccoli rabe and cook for another 10 min.
  6. Taste for salt and garnish with olive oil and a squeeze of lemon.

genius?

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Michael was in the Berkshires on a boy's weekend (read drinking Tequila and sleeping late) until Sunday. Alone, I ate bagels with cream cheese, pickles and nachos and whatever the boys didn't finish. Michael got home Sunday, hungover, and took the boys for a couple hours so I could do something that didn't involve legos.

Even though Pasta Sunday had been cancelled I decided to make pasta. Crazy, I know. I wanted to try  this recipe from Food52. I had been thinking about it because it was this week's "genius pasta." The word genius is very compelling. I don’t think I’d be sucked in by ‘best” or “greatest” or “number one” but genius speaks to me because there can be more than one genius pastas and I'll respect them all. 

The most exciting part was caramelizing the onions. I love watching how they transform over time.

I also added small broccoli florets (frozen) and canned mushrooms, making it a super easy dish and kinda of healthy dish.

Verdict: I thought it was good, not genius. The sauce -- consisting of greek/strained yogurt and pasta water-- wasn't quite rich enough to carry the dish. (I like the idea of using greek yogurt as a creaminess enhancer-- ie in place of cream-- and mixing it with starchy liquid. I guess that's the genius part,) But it needed a lot of cheese and salt and even then seemed missing something. Butter, probably. 

borschtpacho

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Michael heard Anya Von Bremzen being interviewed on NPR talking about Russian cooking. (She's that awesome cookbook writer/traveler who recently wrote a memoir about her childhood in Cold War Russia.) She was friendly with my old boss and I heard wonderful stories about her travels. But now she is writing about her native Russian cuisine. "What is Russian food?" Michael asked. "Can you make it?"

I found an article about her in Food and Wine along with recipes for her take on Russian classics. The only one that even slightly appealed to me was the Borscht meets Gazpacho.

“I hate Borscht and I hate Gazpacho,” Michael said.

“I know me too....but let’s try it. “

The recipe is here. It’s a beautiful soup that I’d someday like to make for my mother-in-law who stores beautiful pottery in her open kitchen cupboards, instead of plates. It was easy enough to make and tasted like a sweeter gazpacho. I served it with all that smoked fish at brunch with Avi and Brook because it seemed to somehow fit into that Eastern European thing. Nobody really loved it though and it wound up sitting in my fridge, dripping beet colored juice for 3 weeks before I finally threw it away.

the long lost pork chop

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This week's monthly mag entry is The New York Times magazine, specifically the great Sam Sifton's article on Diner's pork chop. Such an important article about how Williamsburg has changed/is changing using food as a metaphor. It's happening so fast right around us that it's good to keep remembering and tasting what's becoming extinct, which is often the best. But this piece is really about Sifton's pining for a bygone dish.- the pork chop served at the seminal Diner restaurant.

I bought the chops through , an awesome service that delivers from farm to your door--whatever you order. Not just what the farm/CSA wants you to have. So it's Fresh Direct meets Good Eggs. 

While I was cooking, there were several animals and dinosaurs calling for help from their cage. A bad guy, perhaps a power ranger?, had landed them there. But when the animals were finally freed (and put away), the boys in bed, we feasted.

The sauce was pretty memorable. It was a little sweeter than I expected but rich and silky and light enough to let the meat shine though. In fact, in the afterglow of our dinner, Michael sent a text to his broker friend, Tina telling her how I made the chops, how delicious it was, and to convey that information to her husband, Sam Sifton.