Chicken Soup

• 4 split chicken breasts, bone in, skin on
• 1 onion, diced
• 3-4 cloves of garlic, smashed, peeled, and sliced
• 2-3 outer stalks of celery, and entire inner heart, sliced, leaves and all.
• 6-8 carrots, peeled and sliced
• At least 1, and some of a second box of chicken broth, approx 6 cups total.  Ish.
• 3/4 cup small pasta such as orzo, stellini, acini de pepe or even alphabets
• Fresh chopped parsley
• 3-4 egg yolks (optional)

Preheat oven to 375. Rub chicken breasts with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast for 1 hour. Let cool. Eat skin if you're that kind of person. Discard skin if you're not that kind of person or give it to me. Take meat off bones and roughly chop or shred. Discard bones. Don't give them to me.

Heat little bit of olive oil in your soup pot. Add all the veggies and saute 5-7 minutes.

Add broth and bring to a boil. Add pasta, lower heat and cover. Simmer until vegetables are tender and pasta is cooked. Add reserved chicken. If desired, slip egg yolks into broth while simmering and poach until cooked through.

Add chopped parsley and serve.

A good trick to cool down soup for kids is to put some frozen peas in the bottom of the bowl and then ladle the soup on top. Clever, huh?

Chicken Salad Véronique (although I prefer Betty)

Betty. And Ginger. And Moneypenny. Those are my girls. Anyway, I just realized I didn't follow up the Tarragon Chicken post with the Barefoot Contessa's chicken salad for next day's lunch, so here it is. Obviously I skipped the first few steps in the recipe because I was using leftovers. Just goes to show you should always have two extra breasts.

...Never mind.

Ina Garten's Chicken Salad Véronique

• 4 split (2 whole) chicken breasts, bone in, skin on
• olive oil
• kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup good mayonnaise (the Countess approves of Hellmann's, thank God)
• 1 1/2 tbsp chopped fresh tarragon leaves
• 1 cup small-diced celery (2 stalks)
• 1 cup green grapes, cut in half

Preheat oven to 350

Place chicken breasts, skin side up, on a sheet pan and rub them with olive oil. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Roast for 35 to 40 minutes, until chicken is cooked through. Set aside to cool

Remove meat from bones and discard along with skin (or if no one is looking, eat the skin. C'mon, who are we kidding here?). Cut the chicken into 3/4 inch dice. Place chicken in a bowl, add mayonnaise, tarragon, celery and grapes. Toss well and salt and pepper to taste.

Bon luncheon, Betty!

Signs of Spring

The weather has been nice to me and my anxiety lately. Remember not so long ago it looked like this outside:

All that snow on top of snow on top of snow, and it seemed like it would never go away. Well it has. Apart from a tiny patch in a northeast corner of the yard, the snow has gone and the temperatures are rising. During the day I try to step away from the computer and go outside for oxygen as often as I can, to walk around and regroup and see if anything has emerged from the ground since I went outside 2 hours ago.

The Lenten roses (Hellebores) never let me down. They are an expensive plant if you buy them full-sized at the nursery. I bought a bunch online a few years ago. They were cheaper but they come as babies—one leaf on a stem, and it's taken this long for them to put out flowers. But so worth the wait.

And then it's St. Patrick's Day, which heralds the official time to start seedlings. Actually, the date truly only applies to peas, which are direct-sown into the ground, but I've adapted it to suit my own needs and I start my broccoli and tomato seedlings indoors.

In case you are wondering, that is the original 60-cell Bio Dome sold by Park Seed, available here and a terrific investment for any avid gardner. Mine is like ten years old and in great shape, I just buy the sponge refills every year or steal them from my friend Jen (she hates that).

So all this has contributed to me not reading a damn thing, and dinner being scrambled eggs and pizzas the past few days. I managed to throw together a 3-bean salad tonight and now I'm exhausted. But I thought I should at least explain my whereabouts.  My friend Stacie is keeping the ERT dream alive by cooking everything I ever blogged about, bless you my child.  Her friend in Germany made the black bean fritters the other night. International exposure, how cool is that?!

God Bless All in This House

Our friends Pat and Claudia throw a hell of a St. Patrick's Day party every year.  It's a true herald of spring and I always look forward to it.  While usually the festivities are held at their house, this year St. Patrick's was combined with St. Pat's 50th birthday, which is a much grander affair and so the party was moved to their community clubhouse.  As all-out as they normally go, it was even more all-out, and the Irish passion is so contagious. First of all: the food. They do the traditional menu of corned beef and the cabbage and the boiled potatoes and the soda bread. Big chafing dishes set out in a long buffet; I hit the line at least 3 times and if you are not paying attention I will cut in front of you and take the last potato. Nary a vegetable in sight but who cares. The corned beef falls apart as you try to serve yourself, pink and perfect. Most people make sandwiches but I prefer to just dip forkful after forkful in mustard. Fantastic. And cabbage...who eats boiled cabbage at any other time but St. Pat's and does it ever taste as good? Every year I tell myself, "I should make this at home," but I never do and then it's a year later and I'm at the McGuinnesses eating cabbage and telling myself, "I should make this at home."

Pat1

Next: the entertainment. This is a multi-media theatrical experience. Pat has Irish music cued up and printed-up sheet lyrics so everyone can sing along. And you will sing. You can’t help but sing. There are the die-hards who need no stinkin’ lyrics, and they stand arm-in-arm, swaying and gesturing and stomping.

“There was a wild colonial boy, Jack Dugan was his name He was born and raised in Ireland, in a place called Castlemaine He was his father's only son, his mother's pride and joy And dearly did his parents love the wild colonial boy”

And then the rest of us, following along and barely able to sing because we’re laughing so hard. And it’s not like these are cheerful songs!

“Look at the coffin with golden handles Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well dead? Let's not have a sniffle, Let's have a bloody good cry And always remember the longer you live, The sooner you'll bloody well die!”

It’s so bad it’s wonderful.

Pat4

Pat5

In between songs, we cut to the TV where Pat has compiled all the good dance segments from “Riverdance”. Yes, make fun of Michael Flatley’s mullet and do your own version of the stepping, but God Forbid you stand in front of the screen. HEY! DOWN IN FRONT!!! I gotta tell you, I am a sucker for Irish dancing and that opening sequence of Riverdance gets me every time. The dancers in black and green, slowly turning to face the audience with their stony stares. And that first riff - Chagga-da-CHA! Step, drag toe. Chagga-da-CHA! Step, drag toe. Chagga-da-CHA! Chagga-da-CHA! Chagga-da-CHA! I get chills, I admit it, no shame here.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2p5kx_l6zo]

Pat6

And the kids are running amok and the beer is flowing and Pat has the little shrine set up with shot glasses of Jameson’s and every half-hour or so comes the call “GOD BLESS ALL IN THE HOUSE!” and you step up and take a shot.

It’s such a great party. I wish I could bring my parents to it one year, they would get such a kick. I know my Mom would be singing away!

"O-ro the rattlin' bog, the bog down in the valley-o O-ro the rattlin' bog, the bog down in the valley-o"

Pat2

Pat3

Black Bean Fritters

“And all week long your River City youth’ll be fritterin’ away, I said your young men will be fritterin’. Fritterin’ away their noon time, supper time, chore time too...”

— "Trouble," from The Music Man

If you're going to fritter away supper time, do it with black bean fritters. These can be the appetizer, or the side dish, or even the main course. Or you could simply make them as comfort food, when a needy friend stands stoveside, beer in hand and heart on her sleeve, and eats them as they come out of the pan. This has never happened to me but it's a sweet picture. (Writes that down)

Stoveside Black Bean Fritters

• 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1/2 bag frozen corn, defrosted or not.  I use Trader Joe's.
• 1 red bell pepper, diced small
• 1 zucchini, grated, and squeeze out as much juice as possible
• 2-3 scallions, chopped
• 2 tsp ground cumin
• 1/4 cup chopped parsley or cilantro (or a mix of both)
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar (optional, but it makes a bit of difference)
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup cornmeal

Mix all of the above in no particular order. You may need to add in another 1/4 cup cornmeal if consistency is too wet (from the zucchini).

Drop tablespoons of batter into olive oil, fry both sides until golden brown, drain on paper towels, sprinkle with salt.

These go good with butternut squash or tomato soup, or tossed on top of a spinach salad.  They are also good on their own with beer and heartache.

We Make Quite a Pear

Poached pears are yet another thing I've had in the back of my mind to try but never got around to trying. Until tonight. By virtue of me slowly working my way through a stack of old Everyday Food issues I found in the basement, and putting post-its on the pages with things to try, and seeing Bosc pears in the store today and taking it as a sign.

And of course, having a willing sous-chef who loves pears, and who owes you big time for eating all your celery-radish slaw before you could get it on camera.

This recipe uses 1 dish (microwave-safe 2-qt dish with a cover), has 4 ingredients and takes 10 minutes. Watch.

Poached Pears with Vanilla Cream Sauce

• 4 firm, ripe Bosc Pears
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, cut into slices
• 1/4 cup vanilla ice cream

Peel the pears. Slice the bottom so the pear will stand on end, and with a melon baller or sharp knife, core the pear from the bottom side.

Scatter the butter in the bottom of the dish. Scatter sugar on top. Stand the pears up on top of the butter and sugar.

Cover. Microwave 10-12 minutes. Carefully uncover as dish will release steam.

Transfer each pear to a small bowl or saucer, leaving juices in dish. Add ice cream to juices and stir until melted.

Evenly spoon sauce onto each pear.

Serve.

Die.

Springing Forward

Always fun to put the clocks ahead on a night when you're partying hard. Makes for an exhausting Sunday but I do love the extra hour of daylight.Between hangovers and lost time, we were all hitting the wall around 5:00 tonight. I knew it wasn't going to be anything more strenuous than toasted cheese and tomato soup.

Now, that gap that the spoon is lying across was supposed to be filled with something. See, I was jonesing for something toothsome like a slaw, and DeCicco's had these really cute bunches of easter egg radishes—white, pink, red, purple. I remembered seeing somewhere a recipe for radish-celery slaw. I had celery. I also had a bulb of fennel.

In the spirit of "don't make a lot of what you haven't made before," I sliced thin 4 radishes, and the very interior heart of two bunches of celery, leaves and all. Then half a bulb of fennel, core removed and sliced thin thin thin, then I chopped up some of the fronds as well for flavor. I tossed it all with the 1/2" of vinaigrette that was left in the bottle. It tasted awesome, and I took a small forkful over to Panda.

"Celery-fennel-radish slaw," I said. "What do you think?"

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "Should be creamier, like cole slaw. Can you put some mayo in it?"

Dammit, she was right. I put in a squeeze of mayo and it was totally, completely perfect.

Now, I set the bowl aside on the kitchen counter and went in search of my camera so I could capture this for the blog. When I got back, here's what I found:

Between the two of them, Lovely and Dovely here polished off THE ENTIRE BOWL!! ON CHIPS!! I could barely get in over their shoulders to take a picture of it, and the one I got is very washed out so you can't see the pretty red, pink and purple edges of the radishes.

I was going to file this under "salads" but I guess I'll file it under "appetizers" instead?

Tarragon Chicken

Artemisia dracunculus.

Dragon's Wort.

Tarragon.

One of France's fines herbes and best friend to chicken. I tried my hand at tarragon chicken tonight and really came up with a winner. This was quick, simple and delicious.

I stripped the leaves off 2 big sprigs of tarragon, chopped them fine and mixed them into some butter (I can't say how much because I'm still suffused with shame from the cream of mayonnaise broccoli soup). I chopped up another sprig and set aside.

I had three bone-in, split chicken breasts, so six pieces. I put three on each baking sheet, then took a teaspoon of the herbed butter and slipped it under the skin.

I sprinkled the chicken with a little garlic powder, sea salt, pepper, and the remaining chopped tarragon.

Baked at 375 for 30 minutes, then rotated the pans in the oven, and baked another 35 minutes.  After taking out, I tented them with foil and let sit while I steamed some green beans, and the roasted sunchokes and brussels sprouts were finishing up.

A kick ass dinner, if I do say so myself.  And leftovers to make Ina Garten's chicken salad Véronique for lunch tomorrow.

Hold that thought.

Jerusalem Artichokes

As I wandered through the produce section of DeCicco's, I saw them suddenly on the shelf, like a vision from Heaven: Jerusalem artichokes. This guy in my office, Pete, is a foodie extraordinaire. A real gourmand. And we're always talking shop about menus, particularly around the holidays. A couple of years ago at Christmas, I was planning to make a beef tenderloin, and I asked Pete what I should serve alongside. He came back with roasted brussels sprouts with Jerusalem artichokes. Brilliant, I thought, for I'd long wanted to try these things.

Foist of all, the Jerusalem Artichoke is neither from Jerusalem nor an artichoke.

Discuss.

These are actually the roots, or tubers, of the wild sunflower Helianthus tuberosus. I'd heard them described as a cross between a potato and a water chestnut, and always described as very, very good. After Pete's suggestion, I wanted so much to make them for Christmas dinner, except there was one problem: I couldn't find them. I searched grocery stores and Asian food markets, high and low. Here was one of the most prolific, nearly-invasive plants in the country and I couldn't find one tuber.

And now here they were at DeCicco's, packaged as "Sunchokes" and smiling at me benevolently, seeming to say, "Take me home, darling..."

So I did.

There were nine chokes in the package, and one thing I've learned over the years is never to make a lot of something you're making for the very first time. So I scrubbed up four of the chokes and sliced them 1/4" thick. Then I peeled and sliced three carrots, peeled and smashed three cloves of garlic, and cleaned the outer leaves off a handful of the teensiest, tiniest brussels sprouts I'd ever seen in my life (did I mention I love DeCicco's?)

I tossed all with olive oil, sea salt and pepper, and roasted on a baking sheet for an hour at 375, tossing occasionally so that the sliced sunchokes got good and browned on both sides.

Delicious with the tarragon chicken!! I snuck a slice of sunchoke on each kid's plate and they ate them, no questions asked, thinking they were potatoes.

How to Have Your Pudding if You Don't Eat Your Meat

How?  HOW?! Why with individual corn puddings, of course.

I took a walk through some other recipe notebooks I have, mostly things torn out of Martha Stewart Living, and came across this nifty one for corn puddings. Though the recipe calls for fresh corn, I just use frozen, and this time I added peas to them. I suppose you could even do frozen vegetable medley, too. Why not?

Why Not Corn Puddings?

• 4 ears fresh corn or 1 1/2 cups frozen (or mix of corn and peas) thawed and drained well
• 4 tbsp unsalted butter
• 2 tbsp flour
• 2 large eggs, separated
• 1 3/4 cup milk
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp ground pepper
• 1/8 tsp nutmeg
• Pinch of cayenne

Fill up your teakettle and get it going on a back burner; you need boiling water for this later.

If using fresh corn, cut kernels off cobs and set aside.

Heat oven to 325. Spray 8 6-oz ramekins with Pam and set aside (I actually do own ramekins, which I love, but I only have 5 in the 6-oz size. The batter ended up filling all 5 and then a larger 8-oz one)

Melt the butter in a saucepan, then whisk in the flour

In a mixing bowl, whisk the corn, egg yolks, milk, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and cayenne. Add the melted butter and whisk to combine.

In a small bowl, beat egg whites until soft peaks form (or use the immersion blender that your FABULOUS SEESTER gave to you for Christmas, oh thank you thank you thank you, I love it so much that I have to name it. Seriously, this thing rocks. Before, to beat two measly egg whites I'd have to drag out the Kitchen Aid. No more!)

Fold egg whites into corn mixture

Pour the mixture into ramekins, distributing corn and batter evenly.  Don't overfill—leave 3/4" at the top to allow puddings to rise.

Place ramekins in a baking dish. Fill the pan with enough boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the ramekins.

Transfer baking dish to oven, bake until puddings are puffed and golden, 50 to 55 minutes. I took mine out at 50 but they could've used that extra 5 minutes. Using a potholder, transfer ramekins to individual saucers to serve.

Best served piping hot if you want ultimate "puff". As they cool, they will deflate somewhat but still be delicious.