Ben Cooks Everything

So, this dinner was held at my parents’ last month, during the hottest days of August, when we really didn’t want to turn on the oven. So, salad party! With an essential assist from Sullivan Street Bakery’s pizza bianca.

First up was the Bean Salad. At first glance, it’s not the most exciting recipe in the world. Sitting there on p. 215, it’s just onion, salt, pepper, cooked or canned beans, olive oil, vinegar (or lemon juice) and some parsley. There’s a list following, “7 Simple Last-Minute Additions to Bean Salads” that has some good ideas. But it’s not until you make your way to p. 216 that the variability really hits you: here we have a full-page chart of variations (eight in all) of Bean Salad. You think you can go either way on bean salads, but what about a Spicy Black Bean Salad? Chickpea Salad w/ Chutney? Meditteranean Stlye White Bean Salad? Yeah, I thought so.

The latter is what Mom decided on: white beans with tomato, cucumber, a bit of shallot, and lemon juice for the acid. This salad was delicious and I imagine the leftovers tasted even better after the additional soak time.

Next up was Tomato, Mozzarella, and Basil Salad, also known as the Caprese salad. This is one of those recipes that is so simple it’s almost sitting there on the page, mocking you. “You really need me, asshole?” it seems to taunt, complaining to its recipe friends what an idiot you are.

Cut up some tomatoes (using good ones is important). Cut up a ball of mozzarella. Tear up some basil leaves. Layer it all on one plate. Salt, pepper, drizzle with olive oil (I like a splash of balsamic, too, though Bittman omits this). Done. A combination that’s as common as PB&J;, and with good reason.

Next up was Bittman’s Chicken Salad with Olive Oil and Fresh Herbs, a lighter alternative to the usual mayo-heavy chicken salad. This recipe is free of any mayo–it’s just shredded chicken, shallot, olives, lemon juice and zest, and a whole lot of any type of herbs you like (fresh, not dried, if possible). You can also add a bunch of torn greens, though we declined to do so.

This recipe, like the Bean Salad, is really just a matter of throwing everything into a bowl and mixing it up. It’s delicious, and it’s nice to not have all that mayo–makes the salad a lot more chickeny.

Finally, we made a salad not from How to Cook Everything, but rather from Bittman’s list of 101 simple salads for the summer. This one (#48!) was simply sliced fennel and plums (hello food processor!) tossed with a cider-ginger vinaigrette. Simple, interesting, refreshing, this may have been the star of the table.

It may have been, if we hadn’t served it all with the Sullivan Street Bakery’s pizza bianca, which very well may be the most delicious bread in the world. This meal was one of the best of the project so far. Salads: who knew?

I’ve done the steamed clams thing before, and it’s becoming something that gets easier and tastes better every time.

In Bittman’s recipe, you just sautee some shallots in olive oil, add the clams and some beer, white wine, or water. The clams do all the work from there, releasing their juices into the delicious broth until all of them are open. Then you’re done. This time, I used wine instead of beer, and I added leeks and celery to the shallots. Although I think I like the dish better steamed in beer, I will say that I was drinking the broth from the serving bowl by the end of dinner. My guests were horrified and amused, respectively.

Another recipe that’s become a new favorite is pizza dough. I’ve made pizza twice already, and I decided I’d try out the rosemary focaccia recipe, which is basically the same as the pizza dough, but you let it rise in a pan and drizzle it with olive oil, salt, and rosemary (some olives would work, too). Then you just bake it until it’s golden brown. It’s really good.

And Bittman says it freezes well–wrap the finished focaccia in plastic wrap, then a layer of tin foil, and then just reheat in the oven wrapped in another sheet of tin foil (after you remove the plastic wrap, of course).

Also, for no other reason than they were super cheap at Fairway, we enjoyed a pre-dinner snack of fresh green figs topped with a soft goat cheese.

Not something I necessarily got from Bittman, but I’m sure he’d approve.

This blog is first and foremost about cooking, and I would never try to make it a soapbox. But sometimes, politics and food intersect in ways that are hard to overlook. What we eat is often a more political issue than we care or wish to consider.

Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma (which everyone should pick up and read, stat), has an op-ed in today’s New York Times about the link between healthcare and big agriculture, and how the healthcare reforms currently being debated can, if they make it through congress intact, have a huge effect on the industrial food industry.

The moment these new rules take effect, health insurance companies will promptly discover they have a powerful interest in reducing rates of obesity and chronic diseases linked to diet. A patient with Type 2 diabetes incurs additional health care costs of more than $6,600 a year; over a lifetime, that can come to more than $400,000. Insurers will quickly figure out that every case of Type 2 diabetes they can prevent adds $400,000 to their bottom line. Suddenly, every can of soda or Happy Meal or chicken nugget on a school lunch menu will look like a threat to future profits.

When health insurers can no longer evade much of the cost of treating the collateral damage of the American diet, the movement to reform the food system — everything from farm policy to food marketing and school lunches — will acquire a powerful and wealthy ally, something it hasn’t really ever had before.

Yet another reason we need healthcare reform so badly.

Big Food vs. Big Insurance [nytimes op-ed]

This one’s a variation on Bittman’s Fresh Tomatillo Salsa recipe, where you replace the tomatillos with 2 cups of fresh corn kernels, roasted quickly with a bit of olive oil (two recipes with one stone!).

I used four ears of corn for this, roasted them briefly in the oven and then cut the kernels off the cob. To that, you add some fresh green chiles, chopped scallions, and minced garlic (I just threw all of this in the food processor and let it do the hard work for me), plus some chopped cilantro leaves and lime juice. I added some chipotle and ancho chili powder for good measure. This stuff is delicious, and it’s one of those dishes that gets tastier the longer it sits in your fridge–this definitely peaked on day three. Next time, I’m making this for taco night.

This looked like a yellowish goopy mess, so I’m sparing you the pictures. It’s pretty easy–chiles, garlic, shallots, turmeric, and secret weapon lemongrass get pureed in the food processor. Then that puree gets sauteed in a bit of hot oil and mixed with peanut butter, lime juice, soy sauce, brown sugar, and a good amount of coconut milk. That’s pretty much it.

I served this on Chinese egg noodles, which was pretty good, but I think it’d be better on meat. Slathered on a broiled or grilled chicken would be pretty good, I bet.

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]