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Dijon Sausage and Broccoli Bake

2012-05-22T00:33:31Z

Friends! Family! Everyone About To Give Up On Me!

I am here, cooking, living, and opining, but you wouldn't know it to visit this site. I have always said this blog goes how my life goes. Which is to say, in spurts. I'm fine with that, and I'm glad you are too.

We are so blessed to be settling into Bellingham life. Each of us commutes twice a week to Seattle for work, which is turning out to be very doable. And we're living close to five grandparents, toting kids to soccer games and playdates, plotting the next phase of our remodel, and making friends. We are not, like so many people in the world, scrounging for our next meal or scheming about how to get our children medical care. We are not victims of political unrest or war. We are not waiting in long lines for fuel or applying for assylum. I'm aware, more and more every day, that our reality is not the world's reality. The fact that I can find time and bandwidth to write about food and community means I've been given so much. I just have to say this every once in awhile.

And I have to say, "One Baking Sheet!!" That's all you need for a great dinner. If you've got parchment paper, even better. Bon Appetit have a great feature on this that's inspiring. I've taken to roasting everything--sausages, fish, prawns, bok choy, broccoli, caulifower. Of course, there are the standards like peppers, potatoes, eggplant, onions, zucchini. I've heard Lynne Rossetto Kasper say that when she doesn't know what to cook for dinner, she walk in the door, turns the oven to 425, and then opens the fridge. I find myself in a similar pattern these days.

Depending on your ingredients, you can start things at different times (as I do here), separate them on the sheet if you don't want them mingled, or mix everything up and throw it in all at once. An essential tip is that the closer things are together, the more they will steam and not roast. They'll still cook, but without the delectable crispy edges.

My kids down the sausage, eat a good bit of broccoli, and usually leave the peppers for us. I've been around lots of picky kids lately, which has got me thinking about tips and philosophies for feeding children. Next post? See you then.

Dijon Sausage and Broccoli Bake
Serves 4 with some highly unlikely leftovers. Preheat oven to 425 and line a large jelly rolll pan (baking sheet with sides) with parchment paper or foil. In a large bowl, combine 6-8 fat sausages (Italian, bratwurst, etc.) with 2 coarsely chopped red, yellow, or orange peppers, a coarsely chopped onion, 1/4 c. olive oil, coarse salt, 2 Tb. coarse dijon mustard, and a squeeze of lemon or some lemon zest. Toss with your hands. Spread evenly on your baking sheet and roast for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, take a big bunch of baby broccoli, coarsely chop it (stems and all) and toss with olive oil (a couple tablespoons) and salt. Add to roasting mixture after it's been in the oven for 10 minutes, and roast for 15 minutes more, until sausage is bubbling and charred in places and everything's crisping up. Dump everything into a pretty bowl, put in the middle of the table, and serve with potatoes or bread, if you like. And maybe a dallop of dijon.

Pecan Sour Cream Coffeecake

2012-04-24T17:05:54Z

Rich, Mary, and family came up last weekend. It's the first time we've been together in Bellingham since we moved. At our 800 square foot house in Seattle, all 9 of us in one place would have been physically impossible without a tent in the yard. It's hard to describe how wonderful it felt to host THEM, for once. The kids ran around willy nilly and we very loosely kept an eye on them while we drank coffee all day and caught up on months of news and musings.

Rich and Mary are one of my most appreciative cooking audiences. They swoon over everything and don't complain about the carnage I leave in my wake. I'm really, really speedy in the kitchen. As Yancey will tell you, that's partly because "Clean as you go!" is not a mantra of mine. (But I'm getting better. We've had the serious conversation where I say, "If it's important to you, it's important to me." That's marriage in a nutshell.) So Mary (cheerfully) did a lot of dishes. But with the walls we knocked down, it doesn't matter! We are still all together. Thank you, Universe, for this house and all the people it's hosted already. The fact that it's only half done hasn't stopped us at all.

I always joke that I'm not a brunch fan. Who would ever want to combine two meals into one?! Let's eat all three, at LEAST. But a weekend with friends is why brunch was invented--no one is paying attention to the clock, there's no pressure or plans, and it meant we could go out for "dinner" at 4:30 with all the kids. (Fiamma Burger, of course.)

I'll bet your mother or your aunt used to make a coffee cake like this--tons of sour cream, a layer of nut struesel in the middle. Nigella Lawson has a cake she calls, "Cut and Come Again." Cut some big wedges for brunch, leave the rest on the counter, and find a plate of crumbs at the end of the day.

Pecan Sour Cream Coffeecake
Adapted from Ina Garten. I used one cup of sour cream and one cup of nonfat Greek yogurt because that's what I had in the fridge. If you used all Greek yogurt, I'd recommend that at least half of it be the whole milk kind. And you could sub walnuts or almonds for the pecans.

For cake:
12 Tb. unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 c. granulated sugar
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 c. sour cream (or 1 c. sour cream and 1 c. Greek plain yogurt)
3 extra large eggs at room temperature
2 1/2 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. kosher salt

For struesel:
1/4 c. packed brown sugar
1 c. pecans, finely chopped
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. cinnamon

For icing:
3/4 c. powdered sugar
3 Tb. real maple syrup

Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour a bundt pan.

Cream the butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer until light and fluffy, 4-5 minutes. Add eggs one at at a time, then add vanilla and sour cream.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture to the batter until just combined. Finish stirring with a spatula to make sure the batter is completely mixed.

For the struesel, combine nuts, sugar, salt, and cinnamon.

Spoon half the batter into the pan and spread it out with a knife. Sprinkle the struesel topping over and top with the rest of the batter. Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean.

Let cool for at least 30 minutes, then turn out on a plate. Stir powdered sugar and maple syrup together. Mixture will be quite thick. Spread it on, and a bit will start to run down the sides. Cut and come again.

Cornmeal Biscuits with Ham and Cheddar

2012-04-12T18:29:10Z

I've got an easy, crowd-pleasing little savory bite here, and not much else to say except that I am, still and again, so grateful for my life.

If you're a mom, you've probably seen this post going around--about how our kids need us and not expertly executed birthday parties, cute Easter crafts, or the stress of living up to the curated perfection of Pinterest. And if you're not a Mom, the same is true--the people in your life need YOU, your presence, the way you show up, more than anything you produce or any ideal you uphold.

And I want to show up--with children, husband, strangers, clients, friends--in a way that's open to outcome, drawing from energy deeper than mine, and ready to give and receive. I do that better some days than others. Some moments that have helped me out lately:

A family outing to Vancouver, where we played on the beach, ate lots of sushi, went on long bike rides, and enjoyed the miracle of being a foursome in the world
Sun!! Not oodles, but enough to remind me that orb is still in the solar system
Loretta practicing her letters all the time, on every scrap of paper in the house
Wyatt winning a ribbon at the science fair and constantly thinking in fractions
Starting to work on the house again
Wyatt coming home from soccer, covered head-to-toe in mud
Walking the labyrinth at my church and feeling renewed my calling as a peacemaker
Spring cleaning and tossing things I don't love or need
Aerobics with Liz, bopping to the '80's with some really fit 70 year-olds

And these biscuits. It's not warm here yet despite the fact that it's technically spring. So we're still having soup and biscuits for dinner. It could be worse.

Cornmeal Biscuits with Ham and Cheddar
Adapted from Gourmet. I usually have some proscuitto around, which is the "ham" in these biscuits. I buy the German brand of proscuitto at Trader Joe's, which is very reasonably priced and has a good balance of saltiness and fat. If you want, you can add chopped chives, fresh thyme, or green onions. These couldn't be easier--one bowl, a wooden spoon.

2 c. flour
1/4 c. cornmeal
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp. salt
6 Tb. cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" cubes
1 1/2 c. grated sharp cheddar
1/2 c. coarsely chopped proscuitto or cooked ham
1 c. well-shaken buttermilk

Put a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat oven to 450. Butter a large baking sheet or line with parchment paper.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl. Blend in butter with your fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Stir in cheddar and ham. Add buttermilk and stir until just combined.

Drop dough in 12 equal mounds about 2" apart onto baking sheet. Bake until golden, 15-20 minutes.

Kimchi Soup (and my essential Asian pantry)

2012-03-28T14:45:25Z

For some reason--the vitamin D, lighter evenings, more kimchi--things are looking up around here. In spite of the unrelenting, almost menacing rain, I'm finding it a little easier to face the day and even dare to dream about summer. Wyatt and Yancey both said to me today, "Don't get your hopes up! It might rain all summer." And then Wyatt quoted me back to me: "Peace ends where expectations begin." Damn that kid. I can't keep up with him. (And yes, Amity, I am totally stealing that awesome gem from you and your uncle. It's already helped me out of a lot of scrapes this week.)

These are the kinds of days when my whole body just wants to be warm. (I know I sound like I'm 80.) If I'm not drinking a hot beverage, I'm scheming about how to get a few minutes in the steam room at the YMCA, stay in bed longer, or make soup. Especially this soup.

This is a classic Korean soup, and there are more complicated and caloric ways to make it. It's often made with pork belly (yum!), but the point for me is usually to have something quick and healthy. I can make it for myself in 10 minutes for a working lunch at home. It takes that long to make a sandwich, for gracious sake.

Of course, this would be impossible without my pantry. When Armageddon comes, feel free to hole up with us. We might have brown rice and kimchi for months on end, but we won't run out of food. If we're really desperate, we could probably live on Asian condiments for a week or two.

Here's my dream (Westernized) Asian pantry. Sheepishly, I should admit that this dream is a reality most the time. Even though we've moved out of our Asian-Market-on-Every-Corner Seattle neighborhood, I have my ways:

Sesame oil and sesame seeds (white and black)
Hoisin sauce
Oyster sauce
Rice vinegar
Soy sauce
Fish sauce
Mirin (sweet rice wine)
Toasted seaweed sheets
Sriracha (hot sauce)
Sambal (hot sauce)
Furikake, a few different kinds (Japanese seasoning shakers, usually containing seaweed, sesame seeds, and dashi)
Miso paste
Korean hot pepper paste (gochujang)
Peanut or vegetable oil
Fresh ginger and garlic
Napa kimchi
White and brown rice
Rice noodles
Coconut milk
Red curry paste
Limes
Peanuts

Most of these things keep indefinitely at room temp or in the fridge once opened. If you live in the Seattle area, H Mart in Lynnwood will make you lose your mind. They have an entire aisle of Korean hot paper paste, about 10 million kinds of fresh noodles (soba, udon, etc.), and their cooler of braising greens will make you cross-eyed. If you live in an area that doesn't have Asian markets, Cash and Carry is great for pantry items--a big bottle of sweet chili sauce, for instance, at a fraction of the price the "Asian" aisle at the grocery store will charge.

Wherever you are, I hope Spring is advancing. Tell that rascal not to skip over Bellingham.

Kimchi Jigae
Serves 2. Heat 1 Tb. peanut or vegetable oil in a heavy saucepan. Briefly saute 1 minced garlic clove. Add 2 c. coarsely chopped napa kimchi with its juice, 2 Tb. Korean hot pepper paste, 2 Tb. miso paste, and 2 Tb. rice vinegar. Stir constantly and saute for another minute. Add 12 oz. softest tofu you can find and enough water to barely cover everything. Simmer for 10 minutes until warmed through. If you want to get fancy, you can add lots of fresh veggies--spinach, kale, or chard at the end, or finely sliced zucchini, cabbage, or julienned carrots at the beginning. Garnish with sliced green onions and a drizzle of sesame oil.

Banana Lemon Scones

2012-03-05T01:08:36Z

Give me carbs.

Yancey and I were watching late-night TV the other night. (I'm the last one to join the party, but I'm finally smitten with Jimmy Fallon.) I was full from dinner and drowsy. And yet, unbelievably, I was thinking about breakfast the next morning. About how I didn't want a kale smoothie or rewarmed Irish oats. How I wanted to smell something in the oven and the kids to come running up the stairs asking what it was.

I had a foggy memory of this scone recipe from an edition of Fine Cooking that's long since disappeared. I'm an insatiable magazine reader, but I don't keep them. It might threaten our marriage. So I sometimes clip or scan recipes, but mostly I just enjoy them in the moment and move on. Thank God for the internet and for YMCA members who will read any old donated crap in order not to focus on their workouts.

I was skeptical that one diced banana would do the trick, but these were so stunning. They had a delicate banana aroma and flavor, but totally different than banana bread or banana cake. And, if you really pay attention, bananas are actually a little acidic, and the lemon paired perfectly. I have hardly been known to peel a banana and eat it out of hand, but I can't resist banana desserts and baked goods.

We've had some sweet family time this weekend--cooking, a little road trip with lots of singing, naps, New York Times. And, despite my skepticism, Spring has got to come. It can't help but get closer.

Banana Lemon Scones
Adapted from Fine Cooking. I added 1/4 c. brown sugar for two reasons--to make them sweeter and to make them more tender. It had the effect of the scones spreading ever so slightly, but it was worth it. If you want sturdier guys, leave it out. Most scones aren't good the next day, but these are delicious as the banana keeps them moist.

For the scones:
2 c. flour
1/4 c. granulated sugar
1/4 c. brown sugar
1 Tb. finely grated lemon zest
1/2 tsp kosher salt
6 Tb. cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 medium ripe (but not mushy) banana, cut into 1/4"dice
3/4 c. + 2 Tb. heavy cream(and more for brushing)
coarse white sanding sugar (optional)

For the glaze:
3/4 c. powdered sugar
1 1/2 Tb. lemon juice
1 Tb. butter, softened
pinch kosher salt

Heat oven to 375 and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugars, lemon zest, and salt. With your fingers, rub the butter into the flour mixture until a few pea-sized lumps remain. Stir in the banana. Add the cream, and with a fork, gradually stir until the mixture just comes together.

Turn the dough onto a lighly floured surface and pat into a 7" circle about 1" high. Using a chef's knife, cut the dough into 8 wedges. Transfer to the baking sheet, spacing the wedges 1-2" apart. Brush the tops with heavy cream and sprinkle liberally with sanding sugar (if using).

Bake until tops are golden, about 18-20 minutes, rotating halfway through baking for even browning. Transfer scones to a wire rack and cook slightly, 3 or 4 minutes.

In a small bowl, stir the powdered sugar, lemon juice, butter, and salt until smooth. Drizzle the warm scones with the glaze. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Chicken Chickpea Stew

2012-02-25T16:05:12Z

I know I'm not the first to praise the restorative powers of chicken soup.

I've been meaning to make some of these, and nothing cheers me up in cold February like a big bowl of pho, steaming with anise-scented broth and lime juice.

And when new babies come or when tragedy or illness strikes, soup is inevitably my answer. I usually don't bring over a multi-course dinner, because I find that prevents me from offering. And I usually don't plan when I'll drop something by. I just do it according to my energy and schedule. And the recipient can always freeze it if 20 other people brought dinner that day.

I don't remember where I read the story of an American traveler, somewhere in remote parts of Southeast Asia. He approached a hut, needing a question answered or maybe needing shelter. He heard the inhabitants scurrying around, saying to one another, "There's someone on the porch! Let's make rice!"

I love that. I try to live by it--"There's someone on the porch. Let's make rice." Instead of keeping them standing at the door, having a perfunctory conversation, pretending like I don't have time, or resenting the interruption. I don't do this perfectly, but I know I won't get to the end of my life and wish I'd vacuumed the floor or answered my email instead.

My friend Liz's mom fell and broke her arm in 3 places, so it was soup time. I checked my pantry and freezer, and this is what I came up with. I rarely actually cook recipes out of magazines, but they always influence me. I'd just been reading the new issue of Saveur and their feature on Persian cooking (salivate!), so was thinking about pomegranate molasses and walnuts.

Happy Rice-Making!

Chicken Chickpea Stew
Serves 6. If you don't have pomegranate molasses, just add a little more lemon juice. The tahini gives this soup a richness and depth that's unbelievable, but I bet you could substitute finely ground walnuts if you don't have tahini around. And chicken thighs are my favorite for this sort of thing, but you could certainly use breasts if that's what you have in your freezer. I didn't make this spicy since it wasn't for me, but you could spice it up with dried chile flakes, fresh chiles, or sambal.

If you're slow cooker kind of folk, this would be great in a slow cooker. I gave mine away because I like to fuss, stir, taste, and hover. I never wanted to be away from my project that long. I'm weird.

4 garlic cloves
4 Tb. olive oil
2 roasted red peppers, drained (I just used the kind in the jar)
2 tsp. cumin
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, fresh or frozen
1 14 oz. can chickpeas, drained
1 28 can crushed tomatoes
juice of 1/2 lemon
3 Tb. tahini
3 Tb. pomegranate molasses
1 Tb. sugar
1/4 c. chopped fresh cilantro

Optional garnishes:
cilantro
toasted walnuts
lemon wedges
olive oil
chile flakes

In a food processor, pulse garlic and roasted red pepper until you have a puree. Heal olive oil in a large, heavy stockpot and add red pepper puree. Add cumin fry for a couple minutes, stirring constantly. Add everything else except cilantro and cover with about 1" of water.

Simmer for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally, until chicken is tender and flavors have melded. Break chicken pieces up with a spoon or remove them from the soup and roughly chop. Add them back and add more salt, pepper, or lemon juice to taste and the cilantro.

Serve soup with garnishes, if you like, or with a scoop of rice or quinoa in the middle.

Kale Caesar with Rye Croutons

2012-02-19T02:40:31Z

This one is for Emily. Apparently it's possible for someone to love kale more than I do.

We met her for lunch yesterday at Skillet Diner. We split lunch, and she wisely chose the Kale Caesar instead of fries as our side. I was a little wistful--I've said no to fries maybe one other time in my life. But love demands sacrfice, so I went along.

Of course, it was no sacrifice. Curly, bright green kale with garlicky caesar clinging to the ridges, every forkful a hit of winter vitamins. I made the kids a giant vat of white rice for lunch today and got busy making this for myself. (White rice is like crack to them. If they have enough of it, I could probably sneak out of the house, go for a sauna at the Y, and come home before they'd notice.)

I'm tracking my calories lately, and apparently a plateful of this salad will deliver over 800% of your daily vitamin A. I know you don't need that fact to entice you, though.

P.S. I want this t-shirt. Kind of a friendly way to get up on one of my soapboxes?

Kale Caesar with Rye Croutons
Serves 4. These days, I often have a bag of Trader Joe's washed kale around. When the farmers markets open, I'll commence with washing it again. If you have dino (aka lacinato) kale around, that's even more delicious here, but more expensive and a little harder to find. (Have I mentioned that our house in Bellingham is 5 minutes from Trader Joe's? It's rough.)

For salad
1 large head kale, washed, spun dry, and chopped
4 slices dense rye bread
olive oil
Parmesan or manchego cheese, shaved off with a vegetable peeler

For dressing:
1 large clove garlic
2 anchovies
1 Tb. dijon
1 Tb. worchestershire
1 Tb. mayonnaise
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/4 c. olive oil
freshly ground pepper
pinch of kosher salt

To make dressing, put all ingredients into a beaker and stick your immersion blender in there. (Or use a food processor.) Add more of anything to taste or thin with a little water if it's too thick.

To make croutons, heat a castiron griddle or pan over medium-high heat. Brush bread with olive oil and fry until golden brown on both sides. Cut into cubes.

Toss kale with croutons, cheese and dressing (maybe not all of it), saving a bit of everything for the top.

Love Note

2012-02-15T01:09:57Z

I dare you to sit in front of this muffin-faced rascal and feel blue.

Winter is doing a number on me. I've heard there are some people in the world whose sadness, madness, or darkness means they paint more. Or write more. Apparently, that's not true for me. I was just beginning to wonder if I'd ever log in here again when some universal promptings showed up. A comment from Grace Young, my hero of Chinese cooking and wok love. A nudge on Facebook. And finally, some little well in me beginning to fill up. Some quiet voice that said, "When you don't have anything to say, that's saying something, too."

In my professional life, I help individuals, groups, and organizations be appreciative as they go through change. Usually, I get helped too. Recently, I facilitated a retreat for a friend who's trying to discern what's next. We read this passage from William Bridge's Transitions:

One of the difficulties of being in transition in the modern world is that we have lost our appreciation for this gap in the continuity of existence. For us, "emptiness" represents only the absence of something. So when what's missing is something as important as relatedness and purpose and reality, we try to find ways of replacing these missing elements as quickly as possible. That state of affairs, we imagine, cannot be an important part of the transition process: we hope it can only be a temporary, if unfortunate, situation to be endured.

In this view, transition is seen as a kind of street-crossing procedure. One would be a fool to stay out there in the middle of the street any longer than was necessary; so once you step off the curb, you move on to the other side as fast as you can. And whatever you do, don't sit down on the centerline to think things over!

I'm on the centerline. And it feel dangerous! Moving from Seattle to Bellingham seemed liked a clear end and a clear beginning. But I forgot about the drab Neutral Zone. And then there's sunless days, two funerals in six weeks, and the little boy in Wyatt's class who said to Yancey, "Can I trade my dad for you?"

I love Valentines Day. I always have. Especially those little white bakery bags, decorated with red and pink hearts, full of friendly messages. I remember keeping everything intact for weeks, taking the cards out, reading them, and putting them back in in their envelopes. You don't have to tell me twice to celebrate love. I'm all over it. And that makes me very open to sadness, too. Sometimes it finds me and it takes up residence, right there with the love.

Were I to relate this to food (not hard!), I'd say my New Year's resolve to take care of myself has been what's sustained me. I've been getting outside to run or walk, eating great, and doing crazy things like drinking kale smoothies. If I try, I can see this (mild) depression as a gift, getting my attention and maybe leading me deeper into love if I don't try to squirm out of it, if I don't try to get to the other side of the street too fast.

The photo is from Loretta's preschool valentine party today. 16 5-year-olds opening Valentines. If that isn't a cure for what ails you, I don't know what is. Wherever you are tonight, favorite readers, I hope you're reaching in and pulling out some love notes. Consider this one. xo

Wokking and Walking in 2012

2012-01-10T00:37:15Z

My wok will be 2 years old in April. I am pathetically keeping track, since 2 years is supposed to be the time when an often-used wok is finally seasoned perfectly. Sometimes I get it out, set it on the cooktop, and just look at it. It's getting so wondefully burnished and banged up. And, more importantly, absolutely nothing is sticking to its surface.

I talked here about wok love and about Grace Young's book, The Breath of a Wok. What I'd add this time around is the following:

If I'm making an Asian stir fry, I use vegetable or peanut oil. More and more, though, I'm using olive oil and getting very far away from traditional Asian combinations. The "recipe" here is an example.
I've gotten discouraged a couple times when, just when my wok seemed to be developing the longed-for patina, it all disappeared because of enthusiastic vinegar use, wok cooking naiveté, or other mysterious reasons. My admonishment is Keep Going! The only way to really wreck a wok (say that 5 times fast) is to let it get rusty with standing water or to not use it. Continued use, even if it takes you 5 years, will pay off.
It's really hard to experience what I'm talking about here if you have an electric cooktop. Woks need raging heat.

And, wok cooking is a fabulous way to eat more vegetables in one sitting than you ever thought possible. The stir fry here is 80% cabbage, kale and brussel sprouts, with just a handful of cold brown rice thrown in at the end. That description sounds depressing, but it was DELICIOUS. And made my fiber and Vitamin A off-the-charts that day.

I'm starting out the new year realizing I've spend most my energy the past six months caring for others, and not enough caring for myself. Sound familiar, anyone? When I do that, carbs (empty ones, of course) somehow taste so good, show up everywhere, and supplant the vegetables my body really wants. I'm trying to change that, and trying again to move as much as possible, even if it's not the 60 minute workout I want. Wokking and Walking. You'll hear more about it in April, I'm sure, when I throw a little birthday party for the blasted thing.

New Year's Stir Fry
Serves 2. (If you want to serve 4 as a meal, you'll have to do this twice, since an over-filled wok just steams everything.) Thinly slice 1/4 head of green cabbage, a few cups of washed kale leaves (stems removed), and a couple handfuls of washed brussel sprouts. Mince 2 cloves of garlic, thinly slice 2 red Fresno peppers (red Jalapenos), and see if there are any stray bits of meat in your fridge. You can use ham, cooked or uncooked chopped bacon, proscuitto, etc. This is optional, but yummy. Heat your wok over high heat for about 15 seconds, then pour 2 Tb. olive oil in. Add garlic, stir, then add veggies. Fry over high heat for about 4 minutes, moving everything around quite a bit, and add kosher salt to taste. When everything's getting crispy/tender, add 2 handfuls of COLD cooked brown rice (or white rice or bulgar or quinoa or barley), fry for another minutes, then add 1 Tb. of white wine vinegar and fry for another minute. Dump everything into 2 bowls and top with some crumbled feta, if you like. Or a fried egg.

Hazelnut Sesame Granola Clusters

2012-01-01T20:18:47Z

Happy New Year! Predictably, I've started out with a lot of health resolutions. Even I am not divulgent enough to display my little chart here, but some are easy, some are harder. And by "health," I mean it all--body, mind, spirit. Go overboard with fruits and veggies, send mail, get outside, sit up straight, meditate and read poetry more often. I've learned the hard way that it's not about conquering all those resolutions. It's about putting them out there.

I've read a lot of poetry this week, remembering how its economy of words gives me something to hold onto when the day's anxieties hit. Coleman Barks, the preeminent translator of Rumi, relates this story:

Meditation, or any solitary practice (a walk before dawn, a poem every morning, sitting the roof at sunset), gives depth and expands the soul's action.

A man in prison is sent a prayer rug by his friend. What he had wanted, of course, was a file or a crowbar or a key! But he began using the rug, doing five-times prayer before dawn, at noon, mid-afternoon, after sunset, and before sleep. Bowing, sitting up, bowing again, he notices an odd pattern in the weave of the rug, just at the quibla, the point where his head touches. He studies and meditates on that pattern, gradually discovering that it is a diagram of the lock that confines him in his cell and how it works. He's able to escape. Anything you do every day can open into the deepest spiritual place, which is freedom.

I just love that--anything we do every day can open into the deepest spiritual place. And you know me--I put cooking into this category. Increasingly, cooking is something it's possible to get away from. You can do "food preparation" instead, removing things from boxes and warming them up. You can buy all your carrots already cut up or eat most of your meals out. But when we do that, I think we're missing out, not just on the health benefits, but on the meditative ritual cooking can be.

I paid $4.00 yesterday for a bunch of rainbow carrots grown in this county. Splitting the red one down the middle, I saw two more layers inside--orange, then yellow. A whole riot of color! Standing there with my knife on New Year's Eve, arranging those beautiful carrots on a platter, was another chance to be mindful, to think of the farmers that tended those carrots, to be grateful for this region we live in, and to enjoy the small movements of running the carrots under the sink, twisting off the tops. Of course I don't always slip into this state while cutting vegetables! But these moments aren't as accessible to me when I'm not in the kitchen. It's one of the places I feel most free.

And my kitchen always has a jar of granola in it. The kind I'm into lately is made with brown rice syrup, which makes it unbelievably clustered and shiny. Almost shellacked. This is the olive oil granola recipe I've been into for the last 18 months, just a bit different. Another health goal of mine is "Automate my breakfast." A jar of this makes that easy to do.

Hazelnut Sesame Granola Clusters
You can find brown rice syrup at good grocery stores, at a natural foods store, or even bulk at some places. This is the same olive oil granola recipe I've been wild about for the last 18 months, courtesy of Melissa Clark. As you're cooking this, it might look like you've done something wrong. The syrup will be bubbling up around the oats and it will look much more viscous than your regular granola might. Don't worry! Stir it every ten minutes, and let it cool all the way when it comes out of the oven. It will dry up nicely.

3 c. old fashioned oats
1 c. slivered almonds
1.5 c. hazelnuts
3/4 c. raw sunflower seeds
1/4 c. sesame seeds
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/3 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
3/4 c. brown rice syrup
1 c. whole dried cranberries

Preheat oven to 300 and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. (I wouldn't recommend doing it without parchment paper, a silpat, or something that will make your sheet non-stick, as the syrup acts like glue!)

Combine first 9 ingredients in a large bowl, then add olive oil and brown rice syrup, mixing until everything is coated.

Spread mixture out evenly on baking sheet and bake for 35-45 minutes, stirring every ten minutes and removing when mixture is an even golden brown. Granola will be wet when you remove it from the oven, and will stick together quite a bit as it cools. Once it's totally cool, break it up into chunks. You can, of course, break it up so it's quite loose. Whatever is to your liking. Add cranberries and store in an airtight container.