Ben Cooks Everything

Billed by Bittman as “the salad for meat-eaters,” this was not one of my favorite dishes so far. Part of that could have been the greens I selected (mustard) or the fact that they were kind of on the wet side when I put the salad together (I don’t have a salad spinner). It was a good start, I guess, something I’d like to try again in the future.

So, to make this recipe, you fry up a few strips of bacon, cut into small pieces (I’m sure pancetta and the like work well here, too). Then you add some onions or shallots, and let those soften, then deglaze the pan with a bit of red wine vinegar and mustard. This sauce makes the dressing for the salad. Place the greens in a warm bowl, toss with the bacon dressing, and then top each portion with a poached egg.

I thought this salad would make a great main course, and that’s how I served it. Unfortunately, a series of circumstances made it a really just-okay salad. First of all, I’d never eaten raw mustard greens before; their name is no joke. It was like eating greens laced with wasabi. Some bites were mild enough, while others brought on hot tears. I could barely taste the bacon! Eating it, I thought that perhaps quickly blanching the greens might make them a bit milder, one possible tweak to make this recipe a bit more bearable.

Sidebar: Jacques Pepin makes a similar salad, with frisee instead of greens and the bacon on top instead of incorporated into the dressing. Looks really good. You can watch the episode of Pepin’s show where he makes the salad here.

Making every recipe in How to Cook Everything isn’t the most original idea in the world. Obviously I started my project in a post-Julie & Julia world,* and I’m hardly the first person to see the power contained within How to Cook Everything and its recipes. It’s impossible not to think to yourself, after a while of reading through Bittman’s encouraging prose, “What if I cooked everything?” It’s no surprise, then, that I am not the only blogger out there attempting this goal.

There’s the Clumsy Gourmet, who recently widened her approach beyond How to Cook Everything, but still worships at the altar of Bittman.

There’s Waiting for Bittman, a group-authored blog with “hopes of attracting the attention of their cooking muse.” Don’t they know how easy it is to e-mail the man?

There’s Cooking My Way Through How to Cook Everything, which is short on pictures but full of helpful pointers–much like myself, Brandy wants you to learn from her mistakes.

Shout out as well to the Big Girls, Small Kitchen blog as well. They’re not limiting themselves to Bittman’s recipes, though they use them occasionally, and I feel like I could totally vibe with Phoebe and Cara, the Quarter-Life cooks.

So who’s going to bite and write a story about this new wave of Bittman devotees? I’m embarassingly easy to reach for comment. Just saying.

*For the record, I think the movie was quite enjoyable, a unique rom com for the ages, while I thought Julie Powell’s original book was a piece of self-indulgent trash.

It’s that time of year when it seems like everything is in season. Basil, it seems, gets lost in the shuffle. But don’t let it! For three bucks you can buy more than enough basil for a batch of pesto. And it couldn’t be easier, as long as you have a food processor.

Basil, pine nuts, garlic, salt, pepper, and oilve oil go into the food processor. Turn it on, pour in a bit more oil as it whirrs, and you’re good to go. If you’re going to eat it right away, add grated parmesan or romano. Otherwise, leave it out until right before you serve the pesto. I was freezing this batch, so I left it out.

That’s it.

Carly and Rob are using a patch of their backyard to grow some organic vegetables. There are herbs, squash, beets, carrots, and even a couple of baby watermelons (adorable). I used some of their homegrown rosemary and cherry tomatoes on some grilled pizza, and then topped another small pie with dried figs, prosciutto and sauteed onions.

Like I learned last time Pizza dough is really easy to make, and grilling it is also surprisingly easy. I just rolled it out, brushed olive oil on one side, put it on the grill oil side down, and let it firm up a bit.

Then I brushed the other side with more oil, flipped it, added toppings, and let it finish cooking. Cooking time was only about five minutes–I opted for toppings that were all precooked. The tomato pie was simple and tasty–the dough was chewy and tender, less crunchy than it would have been in the oven but just as delicious. And the the fig-prosciutto-onion pie, not a Bittman idea but all Carly’s, had that amazing sweet-salty thing going on.

Basically, everyone should try making their own pizza, and if you are lucky enough to have access to a grill, then you should also grill your own pizza. Someday soon, I’m going to try this on the stovetop.

This doesn’t have to do with How to Cook Everything, or Mark Bittman, and it’s not even that recent (the post is a few weeks old). But I’m having some technical difficulties with our next regularly scheduled post. So: Blake Royer has an ode to the Chicago Hot Dog up on over at The Paupered Chef. Says Blake:

The Chicago Hot Dog is, perhaps, one of the most improbable food combinations in the world. We do know this: it shouldn’t work. A towering, precipitous bundle, loaded up with so many condiments that it’s twice the volume of the dog itself. It threatens to fall apart, to be so absurd it forgets its provenance as a hot dog. It’s misguided, it’s madness. Yet it’s mad enough to succeed brilliantly.

It’s complete with instructions and pictures (his form when it comes to mustard application, it should be noted, is a perfect ten). And Blake touches on what might be my very favorite part of the Chicago dog: “The only thing it doesn’t need is ketchup.”

The only thing I can’t back, no matter how authentic, is the steamed dog. I need mine grilled. Luckily, that’s fine by the Paupered Chef team. At least I don’t insist on ketchup.

Find a way to eat one of these. Going to Chicago is probably the best way: Wieners Circle is good, Murphy’s is better (that’s where I ate the hot dog pictured above). If you’re in New York, the Shake Shack serves a Chicago Dog (unfortunately renamed the “Shack-Cago Dog”) that I think comes respectfully close to the real thing.

Let me know your favorite hot dog in the comments; also please let me know if you care to weigh in on the “Wiener Circle” vs. “Wieners Circle” vs. “Wiener’s Circle” debate.

How to Make a Chicago-Style Hot Dog [the paupered chef]
Murphy’s Red Hots [yelp]
Wiener Circle [yelp]
Shake Shack [official site]

So, another weekend out of town and another feast prepared in a spacious regular-people kitchen. This weekend I was in the suburbs of Philadelphia, where my cousin Carly and her husband Rob and their seven month old daughter Lily live. I made what I’d call a feast, and I’m going to break it up into a few different posts.

The good news: Carly and Rob have a grill! It’s a gas grill, something I’ve never cooked on before, but I could get into. So convenient! Anyway, I decided that for the main course I’d make grilled split chicken, something I’ve done before in the broiler but never on the grill. I used the Sesame Grilled Chicken variation from the chart on page 642 (“11 More Ways to Vary Grilled or Broiled Boneless Chicken,” which I assumed work for bone-in chicken as well).

The hardest part of this is taking out the chicken’s backbone so you can flatten it on the grill. Splitting it, in so many words. After splitting, I threw it in a ziplock bag with the marinade (ginger, sesame oil, soy sauce, vegetable oil, salt pepper) and stuck it in the fridge ’til it was time to grill.

When the grill was hot, I put it on the cool side, skin side up, and let it cook for about 20 minutes. Then it was time to flip, skin side down, and let the skin crisp up and the chicken finish cooking on the inside. Then it was just a matter of carving it up and getting it on the table.

Splitting chicken is great because you decrease the cooking time of a whole chicken, while still keeping it really moist and juicy. It’s almost impossible to overcook this way. Just the best of both worlds: the juiciness of a whole chicken with the cooking time of chicken parts. It’s probably going to be my new go-to chicken method, since I’d rather broil than roast at home.

Last weekend, my friend and coworker Melanie invited me and some other friends to her mother Donna’s house in New Hampshire for a barbecue and weekend of relaxation.

Obviously I was going to take this chance to work in a real kitchen (I’d refer to my own kitchen as “fun size”) for all it was worth, but Donna had things covered with plans for smoked brisket (pictured above), chicken, and fish. So I brought some veggies to grill with the idea of making some Five Minute Drizzle Sauce, and decided I’d put myself on salad duty. It’s often hard at a BBQ to get your fill of veggies, but I always want to. You can only pack your body full of so much delicious meat before you want some salad or a nice grilled zucchini. I settled on the Spicy No-Mayo Cole Slaw and Carrot Salad with Cumin, in addition to some really nice summer squash I got at the greenmarket that would act as the vehicle for the Herbed Five-Minute Drizzle Sauce, as suggested in the chart on page 250 (“How to Grill Vegetables”).

The kitchen was a dream come true. Check out Donna’s easy access spice drawer:

OK, on to the cooking.

The Carrot Salad with Cumin is a real ace in the hole; you’re basically just grating a bunch of carrots, then tossing with cumin, lemon juice, orange juice, and olive oil, plus salt and pepper. The result is sweet and tangy and the cumin lends it a nice complexity.

If you have a food processor, it should take all of ten minutes including cleanup. The flavors intensify the longer you let it sit.

The Spicy No Mayo Cole Slaw should definitely be made ahead of time–it tasted way better the next day, even. I like this recipe; it’s not the kind of cole slaw I’m used to, swimming in sugary mayonnaise, but resembles something closer to an actual salad. I wouldn’t put it on my hot dog, but for a side at a barbecue it’s light and fresh and just what I wanted.

The dressing is mustard and sherry vingegar plus garlic, chile, and olive oil. That goes on top of a lot of cabbage, some scallions (I used a leek instead, as there were no scallions at the farm) and bell pepper. Like I said, this was a delicious salad, but it got a lot better in the fridge overnight. Cabbage is so underrated. Just saying.

Finally, the summer squash (and some onions!) and drizzle sauce. Grilling the veggies was just a matter of a quick brush with olive oil and bit of salt and pepper, then throwing them on the grill til they were sufficiently charred (for me, this is bordering on totally black).

The drizzle sauce is just olive oil, heated up, with shallot and lemon juice and herbs mixed in. It takes, as the recipe states, all of five minutes, and is another one of Bittman’s endlessly variable recipes (sub peanut oil or sesame oil for the olive oil, ginger or onion or garlic for the onion, soy sauce or vinegar for the lemon, etc.).

All in all, this was one of the most delicious meals, and relaxing weekends, of my life. Donna’s smoking technique, which invlolved getting up at 7am to light the coals, and nearly 12 straight hours of sauna time for the meat, is world class, to say nothing of her homemade barbecue sauce. Many thanks to Donna and Mel’s Aunt Lynne. We all had a great time eating, relaxing, and enjoying your beautiful home. Hope we can do it again!

Today’s Minimalist column is another one of Bittman’s lists of 101 one sentence recipes–this time with the theme of summer salads. They range from the standard to the completely zany (carrots, blueberries and pine nuts, anyone?) across a wide range of categories, including seafood, meat, noodles, grains, vegetarian, and “mostly vegan.” There’s even some dressing recipes. If you can’t find at least a handful of things you want to eat on this list, there’s something wrong with you. Go check it out.

Also, if you fancy this kind of super short recipe thing, check out Bittman’s latest book, Kitchen Express, a collection of these seasonal recipes from the Times.

101 Simple Salads for the Season [nytimes]
Share Your Salads [bitten]
Mark Bittman’s Kitchen Express: 404 inspired seasonal dishes you can make in 20 minutes or less [amazon]

Above picture jacked from the NYTimes.

This one is another dish that’s only as good as the veggies you can get your hands on; last night it was transcendent but if you made it with crappy vegetables (in the winter, say) it might not be much fun. It’s also endlessly adaptable–I’m guessing most vegetables would do pretty well in this, although the combination in the original isn’t something I’d necessarily want to mess with.

Basically, take the corn off three or so ears–you want about a cup of kernels–and brown them in some olive oil. Then add the zucchini, let it go a few more minutes, and then add the onions and optional garlic. When the onions are softened, you add some diced tomatoes, turn down the heat a bit, and cook the pasta.

When the pasta’s just about done (don’t overcook it) throw it in the pan with the veggies, mix, add a bit more olive oil and some of the pasta cooking water if you like, and you’re done. Serve with parmesan cheese.

I came across this recipe for garlic scape pesto on Dorie Greenspan’s blog, which uses the green shoots that grow off of the top of garlic plants. I’d been seeing them at the market with no idea what to do with them, and this seemed perfect–apparently they are best when raw. Wanting to hit two birds with one stone, I decided to take the inspiration from that recipe and use it with How to Cook Everything‘s Classic Pesto recipe.

Those are the scapes. Funny looking, right? Bittman’s pesto is an easy one: into the food processor go 2 cups of garlic scapes (or basil, for the traditional recipe), a handful of pine nuts or walnuts (I didn’t toast them, Bittman doesn’t say to, but I think I will the next time) and olive oil plus a pinch of salt. Turn on the machine, add a bit more olive oil while it’s working, and you’re pretty much done. The last step is to add the grated cheese, right before serving.

This stuff is really good: it tastes fresh, spicy, and yeah, incredibly strong in the garlic department. Next time I think I’d combine the scapes and basil, as I think they’d work well together. That is, if the scapes are around for long enough. If not, I’ll just have to try the traditional pesto. That’s one of those good problems.