Piri-Piri

It's supposed to be Springtime but we have been greeted lately with 30 degree weather and strong winds.  The sun is deceptively shiny, which leads to me choosing the wrong coat and basically freezing.  Roman wants to be closed into his stroller with the plastic covering, like a mobile pod to keep the heat in.  I'm ready for the temperatures to rise so I can finally regain feeling in my fingers and relax my shoulder and back muscles which tense against the whipping winds.

While I'm dreaming of turning off the central heating in the apartment, I've been kicking it up in the kitchen.  I've been through a bottle of hot sauce every week for the last three, made my own pickled peppers (the tiny green ones I bought in Chinatown were great) and made this beautiful Piri-Piri sauce which was gone in two days.

All I've been craving is spicy foods.  I suppose once you start eating them, the endorphins make you crave more and more.  For the duration of my pregnancy I've given up all caffeine, alcohol, and most sweets.   If hot peppers are my only vice, at least they're filled with iron, niacin, riboflavin, folate, potassium, vitamins A and C.  It seems there is a logic to some crazy cravings after all.

I've been a bit disappointed because nothing I've tried has felt hot enough.  The commercial hot sauces tasted like they could be served to babies.  Even this fragrant piri-piri made from red fresno peppers wasn't hot enough, but it did add an amazing amount of bright flavor to everything, including my breakfast omelet.  I guess now I'll be turning to habaneros.

Piri-Piri Sauce
Fresh Red Jalapeño Relish
From Marlena Spieler's Hot & Spicy Cookbook

Piri-Piri is a Portuguese condiment also eaten in Brazil and Mozambique.  I remember it being much spicier in Portugal- perhaps different chilis were used.  I halved Marlena's recipe since this was the first time I was making it.  I made no substitutions and it was wonderful as-is.  I would recommend it on pasta dishes, vegetable or meat curries, as a spread for sandwiches, anything dish that needs a little livening up.

10 fresh red jalapeños (or red fresno peppers)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon oregano leaves, crushed
Juice of one lemon or lime
Salt to taste

Chop jalapeños (keep seeds in)  in food processor.
Combine all ingredients.
May be kept, covered in refrigerator, 3 to 5 days.

Lemony Mustard Dill Egg Salad

I'm not the most traditional of gals when it comes to holidays, but something told me that Roman would appreciate decorating Easter eggs and it was time to get in the spirit of things. So I bought some eco-dyes to use on our free-range eggs (it's important, you see!) and introduced Roman to the concept of colored eggs. I told him that in a few days a bunny will bring a basket with surprises. Then I remembered the hand written cards left for me on Easter morning singed "the easter bunny" (in my dad's obviously disguised handwriting) with bunny ears and some treats to go with it.   For a time I had actually believed all of this.  Now I can't wait to see Roman's face a week from this Sunday when he finds his very own basket.

Colored eggs aside, the best part about hard boiled eggs is egg salad. I lay sleepless the other night dreaming up this egg salad, and waited two whole days to pull it together. It was a wholly satisfying lunch, especially for my pregnant palate. These days, everything gets doused in something tangy, spicy, marinated- basically I've been pumping up the flavor in all my food like mad. Since egg salad can be bland, (I always wonder who buys that boring looking egg salad in the delis in NY) I wanted to do everything in my power to avoid that.  And there you have it.  One lemony, mustardy, dilly egg salad with extra cornichons, comin' up.

Lemon Mustard Dill Egg Salad
Makes one sandwich

2 hard boiled eggs (boiled for 10 minutes and cooled)
2 scant tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon English mustard powder
2 or 3 generous squeezes of lemon juice
fresh dill, about a tablespoon (snipped with scissors)
one stalk of celery, finely diced
4 cornichons, finely diced
freshly ground pepper

In a bowl, combine the mayonnaise, mustard powder, lemon juice, fresh dill and stir with a fork.  Chop your hard boiled eggs, and add them to the dressing with the chopped celery and cornichons.  Pile this on top of your favorite bread or roll with some bright red tomato, top with ground pepper.

Sour Cream Breakfast Buns & News

About six months before we left Italy, we shared a meal with my friend Gaia, who was newly pregnant at the time.  I remember asking her if the expression "bun in the oven" existed in Italian.  The same expression in fact exists in many languages.  This stayed in my mind for a long time as an idea for a blog post if I were ever to have a second child.

That time is now!  Our second child is due three years to the exact day that Roman was born (September 18). We are humbled by the enormity of this gift.  I can't write this post nonchalantly because the journey to motherhood was a long and windy road for me, one with hidden ravines and pot holes.  I suppose I will never understand why things go the way they do, but two babies have now been conceived naturally, in their own time.  I can just thank the forces that be.

Breakfast has been a major moment in my day, and there is usually a second breakfast about two hours after the first.  I usually make a burrito with two scrambled eggs, cheddar, avocado, sour cream and salsa- all swaddled comfortably in a whole wheat tortilla.  I inhale vegetables, anything wickedly spicy, pickled or cured.  I have the privilege of experiencing this amazing transformation for a second time and I love every minute of it.

Sour Cream Breakfast Buns
The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook
Makes 18 buns

In true Magnolia Bakery fashion, these buns are worth every ounce of butter, sour cream and sugar.  Keep this recipe around for a special occasion.

Note: I ended up using only half the topping because it really seemed like too much.  Next time, I will use more, especially more pecans because once the buns puff up, the topping seems like less.

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1 1/2 cups sour cream

Topping:
1 1/3 cups firmly packed light brown sugar
2 cups coarsely chopped pecans
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Grease 18 large muffin cups.

To make the buns: In a medium-size bowl, sift together the flour, the baking powder and the baking soda.  Set aside.
In a large bowl, on the low speed of an electric mixer, cream the butter with the sugar until fluffy, about 3 minutes.  Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.  Beat in the vanilla extract.  Add the dry ingredients and mix until just combined.  Mix in the sour cream. Spoon the batter into the muffin cups.

To make the topping: In a small bowl, mix the brown sugar, the pecans and the cinnamon.  Sprinkle the topping evenly (and generously) over the buns.

Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into center of bun comes out clean.

Morning Sunshine

Two and a half is in full swing in our household, leaving me feeling silly about this post where I went on about how wonderful the two's were.  It's good that I was so positive.  But now, "things" have gotten more complicated.  Instead of waking up joyful and ready to play, lately my sunny boy has been cranky and irritated.

All week long the first hour of our day has included yelling (him, not me), demanding one thing after the next in rapid succession and threats of the dreaded "time out."  He says "no" to everything, even to things he actually wants!

Thank goodness for waffles and distraction tactics.  He really likes to watch the red button on the waffle machine and tell me when it turns green.  It seems to hold the same excitement as waiting for the train.  He likes that waffles are versatile and he gets to choose between plain, spread with sun butter, jam or drizzled with syrup.

photo taken during happy moment 

It's hard to describe the semi-insanity of parenting a toddler full-time.  I've had some pretty tough days where I catch myself staring in the mirror wondering if I'm qualified for this job.  Roman bounces back quickly, but I'm the one who can't quite shake the after effects of one of his full blown temper tantrums in the streets of NYC.  It's quite clear that Roman is not about to put out a classified ad for a new mom, and maybe it's my cooking skills that save me.

These waffles have a combination of white and wheat flours, coarse bran, hazelnut flour, pear- all of the things I tend to put in most muffins or pancakes that we eat around here.  Perhaps because Roman has never had conventional white flour waffles, he doesn't know the difference and he loves these.  Or maybe it's just that they're that much more delicious.  Whatever it is, it's nice to have one thing I can count on in the morning to spread a little sunshine.  I know, I know, 3 is going to be even harder. 

Hazelnut Pear Wholegrain Waffles

Based on this recipe on Allrecipes.com

Makes about 4 large, depending on the size of your waffle maker

2 eggs

3/4 cup milk

1/4 cup olive oil

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 cup white flour

3/4 cup wholewheat flour

1/4 cup wheatgerm or coarse bran

1/4 cup ground hazelnut or almond flour

1/4 cup ground flax seeds

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

4 teaspoons baking powder

one pear, peeled and grated

In a small bowl combine the first four wet ingredients.  In a larger bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients.  Combine the wet and the dry, fold in the grated pear and make the waffles according to your machine's instructions.

All things bright

Every year around this time, I crave foods that go crunch, foods alive with freshness, color and texture.  Last year I was eating this radish and fennel salad.  This year, my mind wandered far back in its archives - taking me back about 14 years.  You'll never guess what I was doing back then.  I was 23 years old, living in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, and every couple of days I'd get all suited up in my polyester blue dress with a plastic belt, stockings, high heels.  I'd pin my hair up in a french twist, attach my translator pin at the lapel of my blue blazer and drag my roll-aboard clunking along on the sidewalk behind me.  I'd make my way down the stairs of the subway, take two trains and a bus out to Newark airport, and from there board an international flight -- have you guessed it?  I was a flight attendant.

I became a flight attendant with three things in my head.  I loved to travel, I loved people and I had a burning urge to go to Brazil.  Well, I made it.  And when I was taking in the sun at the hotel in Copacabana, watching those volleyball players on the beach with their sculpted physiques, sipping fresh coconut juice, it was all worth it.  I've never lost my love for the Brazilian language, music, food, or spirit.  To me, a girl from Massachusetts, Brazilians were so alive, their zest for life so tangible and sensual.  In the end, the career was short-lived.  A few emergency landings later and I had definitely lost my naiveté and "love" of the general public.  But those days in Rio will never leave me.

For some reason one of my favorite ingredients came back to me the other night.  Heart of palm.  Palmito in Portuguese.  There I was again, sitting by the beach (while it was winter in NY), eating a salad with big chunks of palmito, fresh tomatoes, drenched in olive oil and lemon juice, sprinkled with salt.  Those few ingredients together were so divine.  So here I am 14 years later, worlds away from those days of high altitudes, just coming into another season.  Here's a salad I created to celebrate Spring, and all things bright and beautiful. I hope you've enjoyed the flight. 

Salad of heart of palm, blood orange, avocado and endive
4 servings

2 avocados
2 blood oranges (or 1 grapefruit)
1 endive
1 can or jar of heart of palm
juice of 1/2 lemon
olive oil
1/4 teaspoon mustard powder
coarse salt and pepper

Cut the avocados into chunks.  Remove the rind and white pith from the blood oranges, then cut those into chunks.  Slice the endive and the hearts of palm and combine all the vegetables in a bowl.  Mix a dressing of about equal parts lemon juice and olive oil, mix in some mustard powder if you have it, and dress the salad.  Sprinkle with coarse salt and pepper.

Braised Red Cabbage

A few years ago, doing something nice for myself meant getting a manicure, buying a new accessory, or treating myself to flowers.  Somewhere between then and now, to the dismay of my fashionista friends, I became a simpler person.  Content with a brisk walk and some people-watching.  Happy to listen to music that uplifts me and toss a ball with Roman.  And lately I am more concerned with what goes in my body than external flourishes.  I've discovered there are other ways to treat myself.  

This morning I thought about what to cook this week and I made a list of vegetables that we rarely eat anymore.  

-cabbage

-green beans

-brussels sprouts

-eggplant

I was surprised that the winter months had left me short on inspiration.  So I devised a plan for the week with the idea of varying our diet.  When I brought home this red cabbage, it felt like the equivalent of buying myself a bouquet of blooms.  Red cabbage is unbelievably healthy.  But forget about phytonutrients and antioxidants.  Just rest assured that this cruciferous vegetable does a body good. 

When Roman saw the big purple globe he wanted to eat it immediatley, never mind that it was raw.  Perhaps it was the allure of eating a purple vegetable.  I can't say he loved it, but maybe he will next time.  And until then, we're redefining the definition of treat in this household.

Braised Red Cabbage with Apple and Onion

Adapted from Jane Brody's Good Food Book

Red cabbage turns blue when cooked unless you add vinegar.  Serve alongside sausage, pork chops or fish, or to keep it meat-free, try it mixed in with whole-wheat pasta.  For extra pop, add some toasted cumin or caraway seeds.  This can be eaten hot or cold.

1 tablespoon butter

1/2 red onion, chopped 

1 1/4 lbs red cabbage (one small head), cored and thinly sliced

1 Golden Delicious apple, peeled, quartered, cored and thinly sliced

1/2 teaspoon salt

cracked black pepper

1 tablespoon dark brown sugar

1 cup water

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

Melt the butter in a large skilled and add the onion.  Sauté for one minute.

Add the cabbage and apple and cook, stirring occasionally for 5 minutes.

Combine the salt, pepper, brown sugar, water and vinegar.  Add this to the cabbage mixture.  

Cover the pot and cook over low heat for 30 minutes. 

Potato Soup and two tales

When I was five, we lived in a rural part of Massachusetts surrounded by farms.  One afternoon, my sister and I were playing outside when a small, pink pig came toddling down our long dirt road.  My mother had a huge soft spot for pigs (probably inspired by Charlotte's Web) and brought out a bowl of potato soup for the happy little guy.  After an hour or so, a frantic farmer came knocking and we woefully said goodbye to the sweet pig.    

When my mother published her cookbook, my grandmother Ruth's potato chowder recipe had a place of honor.  In her notes, she made no mention of feeding soup to a pig.  Instead, she recounted that the recipe came from Ruth who had actually hated soup as a child.  Ruth's father Abraham wished upon her a husband who loved it.  My grandfather Leo.  Ruth embraced her new married life and learned to love soup- lentil, pea, barley, lima bean and her favorite, potato chowder.

My great-grandfather Abraham probably saw it as Ruth's duty to make soup for her husband no matter how she felt about the stuff.  The important thing is, she grew to love it and her family appreciated her as a fantastic cook.  In 1967, my mother won over my father with a chicken curry dish from The New York Times Cookbook.  A few months after I met P, I was rolling out dough for calzones and making stir fries.  You know the old adage, "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

My point is that sometimes cooking does feel like a duty- someone normally has to put food on the table to feed the family.  At times we feel lackluster about the task.  In the drudgery of routine, even the most creative cook can lack inspiration.  When that happens, just remember it's easy to please with simple, fresh ingredients.  Especially when it's a comfort food like potato soup.  Always good to have on hand to feed family, friends, or unexpected fuzzy visitors.  

Potato Chowder 

This is the recipe that my mother included in her cookbook.  It can of course be adapted many ways.  I did try Ruth's recipe in the photo above but I found it to have too much butter and I prefer my mom's version.  I added the kernels from one fresh corn cob to this recipe, and substituted leek for the onion. You could also add some crispy bacon or pancetta. A sprinkling of paprika on top is authentic to New England kitchens in the 50's and 60's.

1 1/2 cups chopped onion (about 2 onions)

1/2 cup diced celery

1 cup sliced carrots

1 clove crushed garlic

3 tablespoons butter

4 cups diced potatoes (about 3 medium)

2 cups water

2 chicken bouillon cubes

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1/4 teaspoon tarragon (I left this out)

1/4 cup chopped parsley (optional)

2 cups milk

1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese

Saute onion, celery, carrots and garlic in butter until onion is transparent.  Add the other ingredients except for milk and cheddar cheese.  Cook until potatoes are tender (about 10-12 minutes).  Add milk and heat without boiling.  Serve sprinkled with cheddar cheese.