Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Cheese Fondue

At 8:48 yesterday morning I looked up at the clock on the wall and seriously thought that I might:
1. Power vomit
2. Spontaneously combust
3. Die
4. All of the above

Sweat did not drip--it spewed--from every pore. I am guesstimating my heart rate was around 1,900 beats per minute. I gasped for air as if I was being waterboarded. My only rational thought was "Why? Why, Dear God...Why must I suffer so?"

I turned to the woman sitting next to me (who had an equally pained expression on her face, as if she was eighteen hours into a epidural-free labor) but my parched lips and pasty tongue were unable to form any distinguishable words, so I simply groaned. She looked at me, and although gulping for oxygen like a reeled in carp, somehow managed to find the strength to croak to me, "Only twelve more minutes left. We can do anything for twelve minutes."

And with those twelve words, I suddenly had the strength to go on.

No, I was not in my local emergency room, having eaten a rogue bad clam on Arthur Avenue the night before. Nor was I exposed to raw sewage, radioactive waste, Anthrax, or alien probes. Instead, I was at my 8:15 a.m. spin class, with the Spin Instructor from Hell--an ex-marine with the demeanor of a starved pit bull, the warmth of a pit viper, the compassion of Jeffrey Dahmer. And yes--I chose to be there.

Yet after 33 minutes, I began to question my sanity. "What in the world do I do this for, week after week, year after year?" I thought. "Am I out of my mind?" I wondered with what few neurons still fired upstairs, why I relentlessly tortured myself and my poor, middle-aged, gravity-weary body. Was it for that extra slice of cheesecake?...that second helping of pasta?...that crusty French bread dipped in that cheesy fondue? Yes...yes...and yes, again.

And with that confirmation, I mouthed a silent thank you to my spin partner for helping to get me over my 33 minute hump. Because what's twelve minutes of your life, when there's a warm, comforting fondue waiting for you on the other side?


Classic Cheese Fondue (PRINT RECIPE CARD)
1 garlic clove, peeled and halved
1 1/2 cups dry white wine
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 teaspoons kirsch liqueur
2 cups (1/2 lb) Gruyère cheese, grated
2 cups (1/2 lb) Emmental cheese, grated

For dipping:
Cubes of French bread
Sliced apples
Boiled red potatoes
Blanched broccoli florets
Sliced red peppers

Combine the cornstarch and kirsch in a small cup and set aside.

Rub the inside of a 4-quart heavy pot with the garlic, then discard. Place the pot over medium heat, add the white wine, and bring to a simmer.

Gradually add the cheese to the pot and cook, mixing constantly using a zigzag (not circular) motion, until the mixture becomes creamy (do not let the cheese boil!). Slowly stir in the cornstarch/kirsch mixture, then bring fondue to a simmer, stirring in the zigzag pattern for about 5-8 minutes, or until the mixture has thickened. Transfer to a fondue pot set over a flame + serve with bread, fruit and vegetables for dipping.

Serves 4

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Bolognese Sauce


I have to be honest with you, dear reader--despite the fact that I spent many years practicing my upper cuts, jabs, and hooks with my trainer, Bob, I was always a bit squeamish about the prospect of watching a ''real" fight, up-close, and in-person. Let's face it--watching a boxing match on television from the comfort of your pillowy sofa, with the remote control in one hand, and a bowl of popcorn in the other, is one thing; listening to the sound of bone-crushing blows delivered just feet away from you is a whole different beast. But when my cousin, Mati, invited me to the (not so) Annual Police vs. Firefighters Charity Tough Man Competition in Yonkers this past Friday night, I suddenly found my lips saying 'yes' before my brain had time to weigh in with a 'no'. And with that tiny utterance, I was going to my first fight.

So, there I was, standing on the floor of the old Yonkers Armory--shoulder to shoulder in a packed room with several hundred beer-swilling, blood thirsty cops and firefighters, anxiously waiting for my first fight to begin--when I learned that my cousin, Mark, was in fact, one of the Tough Men. Now, my cousin is a tough Yonkers cop, and I know very well that he can take care of himself, but...boxing? I thought to myself, "does he even know how to box?" A shiver ran down my spine. I made the sign of the cross, and prayed to my Grandmother, "Please Grams, don't let Mark die here in front of me tonight."

When it was finally Marks' turn to fight, I looked up at his face staring down at me from the big screen: 6 feet tall, 195 lbs, 24 years old. 24 years old?!?! Wait...Mark's 36 years old!! "Stop the fight...he's too old for this craziness!!!" Alas, my cries went unheard and the fight went on--all six minutes of it--and despite the fact that his opponent fought dirty, my baby cousin prevailed and took home a Tough Man trophy. All without a drop of his blood being shed, a single bone being crushed.

When I called to check up on Mark the next day, Mati informed me that he was sore, but not so sore that he wasn't in the kitchen making a pot of homemade sauce. As I hung up the phone I was comforted knowing that despite the fact that I come from a tough lot, in the end, what matters to us most is not who wins the fight or takes home the trophy, but who can put on the apron and make the best damn pot of Sunday gravy this side of Little Italy. That's the true sign of a winner in our family.


Sunday Bolognese Sauce (PRINT RECIPE CARD)

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup chopped yellow onion
2/3 cup chopped celery
2/3 cup chopped carrot
3/4 pound ground beef chuck
Salt + freshly ground pepper (to taste)
1 cup whole milk
1 cup dry white wine
1 1/2 cups canned Italian plum tomatoes, chopped (with the juices)

Place the oil, butter and chopped onion in a large pot over medium heat and stir until the onion becomes translucent. Add the celery and carrots, and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the ground beef, a pinch of salt and pepper and stir well until the beef has turned just brown, then add the milk, reduce the heat slightly and simmer, stirring frequently, until the milk has been absorbed. Add the wine and simmer until it evaporates. Finally, stir in the tomatoes, lower the heat and simmer, uncovered for 3 hours, stirring occasionally. Note: If the mixture begins to dry out as it cooks, simply add 1/2 cup of water as necessary (the end sauce should be dry and beefy. not watery!) Season with salt and pepper to taste before serving over cooked pasta + topping with grated Parmesan cheese.

Makes about 4-6 servings (depending on how many rounds you go beforehand, of course)

Applesauce + Latkes


Honeycrisp, Golden Delicious, Ginger Gold, McIntosh, Granny Smith, Fuji—it seems there are as many apple varieties as there are ways to enjoy them. We mash them into sauce, fry them into fritters, bake them into pies, press them into cider, shred them into slaws, ferment them into vinegar. We bob for them, candy them, dry them, carve them, and remain faithful to the notion that eating one a day will help keep the doctor away. I’ve even been told that by having an apple pie baking in the oven when you’re selling your home will make buyers stay longer & look more intently.

Our collective love of apples started with poor Eve, who despite living in the Garden of Paradise with Adam simply couldn’t resist having a taste of that sweet, forbidden fruit. (I’d do a lot for a Macoun picked straight off a tree on a crisp October day, but I draw the line at bearing the burden of Original Sin.)

Personally, I’m a sucker for warm, cooked apples. Give me a slice of hot apple pie, an apple fritter, or a big stack of cinnamon-topped apple pancakes--and a fork--and I’m happy and content. This weekend I'll be making some homemade apple sauce to spoon over a batch of crisp latkes that I've had a hankering for lately. These go perfectly with a pot roast, or a roast chicken. Or, standing over the kitchen counter, if you simply can't wait until dinnertime.

CROCKPOT APPLESAUCE (PRINT RECIPE CARD)
10 large apples, peeled, cored and cut into chunks
1/2 cup water
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 to 1 c. sugar

Place all the ingredients into a crockpot, cover and cook on low for 8-10 hours, or on high for 3-4 hours. Note: If you want to do this on the stove, just simmer, covered (stirring frequently), until the apples are tender.

LATKES (Potato Pankcakes)
1 pound russet potatoes
1 small onion
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1/2 teaspoon salt
Dash of pepper
1/2 to 3/4 cup vegetable or olive oil


Peel potatoes and coarsely grate using a box grater. Grate the onion as well. Soak grated potatoes and onion in a bowl of cold water for a minute or two, then drain well.

Spread potato and onions out on a dry kitchen towel, roll up and twist, wringing out as much liquid as possible. Empty mixture into a bowl, mix in the egg, salt and pepper.

Heat 1/4 cup oil in a nonstick skillet over high heat until it is hot but not smoking. Working in batches of 4, spoon 2 tablespoons potato mixture per latke into the skillet, flattening into 3-inch rounds with a slotted spoon or fork. Reduce heat to moderate and cook until brown on one side (about 4-5 minutes), then flip latkes and cook until the other side is brown.

Carefully transfer to paper towels to drain and season with salt. Continue cooking batches of latkes, adding more oil as needed. To keep latkes warm, place them on a wire rack set in a baking pan in a 250 degree oven.

Makes about a dozen latkes

Grilled Island Pork Tenderloin


I barbecued last night in the middle of a classic northeast snowstorm, by the light of a small flashlight, wearing layers of Thinsulate and Gortex, and it was the happiest I've been in as long as I can remember.

I am in love.

I am in love with irreverance.
And, non-conformity.
I am in love with coloring outside the lines.
And not eating my vegetables.
I am in love with sleeping at odd hours, if I so please.
And, laughing too loud at a stupid joke that only I get.
I am in love with the fact that I am becoming the person I want to be, and that I have finally--at the cusp of 45--stopped making excuses, or concocting explanations for my idiocincracies.

I am what I am, and who I am. And that person chooses to grill Caribbean pork tenderloin on a full-moon night, in the middle of a January snowstorm, while drinking summerhouse margarita's, and laughing out loud at the lunacy of it all.


Grilled Island Pork Tenderloin (PRINT RECIPE CARD)

I first discoverd this recipe for Island Pork Tenderloin Salad in Gourmet magazine back in 2003, and instantly fell in love with it. But being a Summerologist and all, I wanted to be able to cook it outside on the grill, so I got rid of the salad part and simply marinated the pork in a Ziploc bag for several hours, then threw it on the grill until the internal temperature reached 140°F. The result is a delicious BBQ-ed pork that pairs perfectly with mashed sweet potatoes, fried plantains, a spicy slaw, or rice and beans (or, go crazy, invite some friends over, and make all of those). And, just because it's winter, doesn't mean you can't head outside and enjoy a taste of summer tonight; summer--as I've said before--is not only a season, but a state of mind.

I'm living proof of that.


2 pork tenderloins (2 1/4 to 2 1/2 pounds total)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic
1 tablespoon Tabasco sauce

Place all ingredients in a large Ziploc bag, combine well, then refrigerate for several hours. Preheat grill for ten minutes on high heat, then place tenderloins on grill, and sear meat on all sides until brown. Lower heat, close grill top, and cook for approximately 5-8 minutes on both sides. Tenderloins are ready when a thermometer inserted diagonally in the center of each registers 140°F. Remove tenderloins from the grill, and let stand on a cutting board for 10 minutes (temperature will rise to about 155°F while standing) before cutting into thick (1 - 1/1/2") slices.

Serves 6-8

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Watermelon Martini + Key Lime Pie

It's hard to believe that the unofficial "last weekend" of summer is upon us; I know I say this every year, but I honestly don't understand how summer flies by so quickly, while winter seems to drag on forever. There are just a few days left before we have to start stuffing our feet back into practical shoes, trading in our comfy cottons for scratchy wool, and so--in the spirit of making the most of every precious drop of summer--I've compiled a last minute list of 21 things to do before the calendar flips into fall. You of course won't get to them all, but the point is simply to have fun this weekend. Enjoy your Labor Day and I will see you back here in September with lots of new crafts, recipes and ideas for the brand new season.

21 things to do before September 1st
Eat cotton candy Go skinnydipping Run through a sprinkler
Chase the Good Humor Truck Skip stones Camp out in the backyard Eat Key Lime Pie Go to a drive in movie (in your pajamas) Make pizza on the grill Learn to do a cartwheel once and for all Go see a live band and don't just stand there, but dance Pick wildflowers Stay up late and gaze at the stars (preferably in a hammock) Make a lobster roll (don't worry about the pricetag) Make fresh watermelon martini's Build a campfire and make smores (and tell ghost stories) Fry green tomatoes Have a water balloon fight Take a nap in a tire tube on a lake Make BBQ Chicken + Ribs (with homemade potato salad, too) Wear your flip flops until October


FRESH WATERMELON MARTINI (PRINT RECIPE)

1 cup water
1 cup sugar

2 cups diced watermelon

2 oz vodka

Juice of 1/2 lime

Ice

Mint leaves, slice of lime, or small wedge of watermelon (optional)


Make a simple syrup by bringing the water and sugar to a boil. Allow it to cool. (Leftover syrup can be stored indefinitely in the refrigerator.)


Place the watermelon in a food processor or blender, and pulse until smooth, then press through a fine sieve, reserving the juice.

Place the vodka, lime juice, ½ ounce of simple syrup, and 2-3 ounces of watermelon juice (to taste) into a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake well, and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with mint, lime or a wedge of watermelon if desired.

Makes 1 cocktail.



KEY LIME PIE (PRINT RECIPE)
From my book, Summer: A User's Guide

14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk

3 egg yolks

1/2 cup key lime juice

1 tablespoon finely grated lime peel
9-inch graham cracker pie shell (you can make your own or purchase one pre-made)

Whipped cream (optional)

Mint Leaves (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a mixing bowl, combine the milk, egg yolks, lime juice, and lime peel and blend until smooth.
Pour the mixture into the pie shell and bake for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow pie to stand for approximately 10 minutes, then refrigerate.

Enjoy plain or garnish with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprig of mint.

Monday, August 4, 2008

The Prolific Squash Patch


Zucchinis terrific! Like bunnies, prolific!

It's that time of year again, when zucchini + summer squash seem to take over every square inch of your garden, your kitchen, your life. Yesterday I received a comment from Lisa who requested some recipes to help put her prolific squash patch to good use, so today I am posting a few of my favorite recipes for everyone out there who could use a little end of summer squash inspiration.

(PRINT RECIPE CARD)

Fried Zucchini

Olive oil or Vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
1 1/2 cups plain breadcrumbs or panko
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
3 medium zucchini (cut into 3-inch long x 1/2-inch wide strips)

Mix together the Parmesan cheese, breadcrumbs, and salt in a medium bowl. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs. Working in small batches, dip the zucchini into the egg to coat, then coat with the breadcrumbs, patting if necessary to cover the zucchini completely. Place coated zucchini on a platter or cookie sheet and set aside.

Pour two inches of oil into a large frying pan, and heat over medium heat until it reaches 350 degrees (Note: If you don't have a deep-fry thermometer, don't panic! When the oil starts to glisten on top and bubble slightly, you're good to go.) Working in batches, fry the zucchini for around 3 minutes, or until they are golden brown, then carefully remove from oil with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Serve with marinara or aioli sauce. Or, just eat them plain! Makes approximately 4 servings.


Summer Ratatouille

This is one of those recipes that you can totally make your own. Feel free to add more or less of any of the vegetables in this recipe, or throw in whatever other veggies you might have on hand like red or green peppers, patty pan squash, onions, green beans, or even leftover corn, cut from the cob.

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, chopped (red or white)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 large eggplant, diced
2 cans (14.5 ounces each) diced tomatoes
2 zucchini or summer squash (or a combo) cut into chunks
1 red bell pepper, sliced
1/2 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped
Salt + Pepper

In a large stock pot or Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat, then sauté the onion and garlic until tender. Add the eggplant, tomatoes and thyme, lower heat, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the zucchini and cook for an additional 15-20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Makes approximately 4 servings.


Italian-Style Zucchini Fritters
2 cups grated zucchini
2 eggs, beaten
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
dash of salt + pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil

Combine all the ingredients, except the oil, in a large mixing bowl. Heat oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, drop zucchini mixture by heaping tablespoonfuls, and cook for a few minutes on each side until golden brown. Drain fritters on paper towels, then serve with marinara sauce, or enjoy them plain (equally good!). Makes about 12 fritters.


Stuffed Patty Pan Squash
This is similar to a stuffed mushroom recipe, only using Patty Pan rather than mushrooms.

6 pattypan squash, stem and blossom removed
6 slices bacon
1/2 cup onion, diced
1 1/2 cups bread crumbs
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese + a handful more
salt + pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a large saucepan, bring approximately one inch of water to a boil over medium-high heat, add the squash to the pan, cover and cook for around 10 minutes, or squash are just tender. Drain patty pans, and allow to cool slightly. When cool, slice off the top stem, then, using a melon baller, carefully scoop out the centers of each, reserving the meat. Chop the reserved squash meat and set aside.

Place the bacon in saute pan and cook over medium-high heat until browned. Remove the bacon from the pan and drain on paper towels. Saute the onion in the bacon drippings, then add the squash pieces, and cook for about a minute or so. Remove the pan from the heat and add the breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese. Crumble in the bacon, and mix until all ingredients are combined. Add a bit of salt and pepper if you wish, then stuff the mixture into each patty pan, place them in a baking dish, top with a handful of Parmesan cheese, cover with aluminum foil, and bake for 10 minutes. Remove foil and cook for another 5-7 minutes, or the until cheese is bubbly.

Chocolate Chip Zucchini Bread
3 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 oz. unsweetened chocolate, melted
2 cups grated zucchini
2 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, beat eggs until light and fluffy, then gradually mix in the sugar, oil and vanilla. Stir in the melted chocolate and zucchini, then the flour, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon. Finally, mix in the nuts and chocolate chips, making sure all ingredients are well-combined. Pour batter into two greased and floured 9x5 loaf pans. Bake for 1 hour, or until wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool before serving. Makes two loaves.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Summer Spreads


It's Friday evening and instead of fluttering around town like the champagne-sipping social firefly I planned on being this week, I am instead, in the kitchen--looking anything but glamorous with my hair in a librarians bun, and spectacles perched on the tip of my nose--cooking up a storm. But I don't mind, because it's all for a good cause, as tomorrow I have a little ladies cocktail luncheon to attend. A friend of mine is turning thirty-nine for the fiftieth time, and so I am whipping up some quick and easy appetizers to counter the effects of our late afternoon cosmo-fest. I'm making two of my favorite spreads for the occasion--a white bean spread with rosemary and a bit of lemon zest, and a sun dried tomato and goat cheese spread that is so flavorful my mouth is actually watering just from typing the name of it. They are the perfect summer recipes as far as I am concerned, because they use just a handful of inexpensive and easy-to-find ingredients, and require no cooking whatsoever. I'm going to serve them tomorrow with warm pita bread, toasted baguette slices and a vegetable crudite, but I love the bean spread on toast, topped with slices of ripe tomato, or roasted red peppers out of the jar, or even chopped black olives. And the sun dried tomato spread does double duty as a delicious pasta sauce that tastes like summer itself (or, stuff some into an omelet, add a little to your next BLT, use it as a pizza topping if you are grilling pizza outdoors this summer).

These are two healthy and soul-pleasing recipes you will turn to again and again, and want to keep in your refrigerator well after the summer season has passed.

Enjoy!
Suzanne


PRINT RECIPES
WHITE BEAN SPREAD with Rosemary + Lemon Zest
2 - 15.5 oz cans cannelli beans (drained)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons chopped lemon zest
salt + pepper to taste

Place all ingredients in your food processor and blend until smooth and creamy. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

SUN DRIED TOMATO + GOAT CHEESE SPREAD
10.5 oz log goat cheese
6.5 oz jar sun dried tomatoes in olive oil

Place the goat cheese and 3/4 of the sun dried tomatoes (drain them first) in the food processor and blend until creamy. If you'd like you can add some fresh rosemary to this recipe.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Clamaholic


As you might recall, I spent most of this past Saturday stuffing thousands of empty calories into my poor, defenseless body, the exception being, a plateful of delicious steamers, coated in butter (ok, so maybe it wasn't exactly health food) and garlic. Those twelve little hatched-footed mollusks were the culinary highlight of my day, and quite possibly my summer, thus far. I love clams. Linguini with clam sauce, clam pizza, baked clams, raw clams, clams casino, clam chowder; if it's got clams in it, on it, or around it, I will eat it until I burst (well, not really; I'm being somewhat dramatic). Last October I posted a recipe for Linguini with Clam Sauce that I adapted from the oh-so-talented Juan, at the Fish Market in San Diego. This year, I've decided upon a recipe for garlic steamed clams that are so chock-full of garlic, that I personally guarantee that you will be 100% vampire-proof for at least a week after digging in. Of course, no one will want to kiss you either, but that's a small price to pay to be in bivalve bliss.

GARLIC-STEAMED CLAMS (PRINT RECIPE)
4 dozen hard shelled clams, well scrubbed
3 tablespoons olive oil (or butter)
10 cloves garlic, peeled & minced
1-cup white wine
1/2-cup parsley, chopped (optional)
Lemon

Make certain your clams are alive by checking that they are tightly closed. If they are open slightly, tap to see if they react to your touch; if not, discard. Also discard any clams that have cracked shells. When ready to cook, scrub the clams with a stiff brush under cold running water.

In a large stockpot or Dutch oven with a firm fitting lid, heat the olive oil, then add the garlic and sauté for approximately 5 minutes.

Turn up the heat and add the water, the wine and the parsley. Add the clams, close the lid and allow clams to steam for approximately 10-15 minutes, or until the clams open. (Note: During the cooking process – without opening the lid - shake the pot a few times to redistribute the clams)

When done, place the clams and the broth in a large bowl, discarding any clams that did not open. Squirt some lemon over the clams and serve with crusty bread. You can also serve with a side of melted butter for dipping.

Makes 6 appetizer servings, or 2 entrée servings

Monday, June 30, 2008

Down East Lobster Roll


Whether you say “lobster” or “lobstah”, there’s no denying that the lobster roll is one of the favorite foods of coastal New England. I ate my first lobster roll at the famous Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, Maine, then immediately turned around and ordered another; I was instantly hooked. Since that wonderful first taste, not a summer has passed by without my indulging in a couple of rolls, washed down with a cold beer.

The recipe for this Down East delight could not be simpler; mix supremely fresh lobster meat with a bit of mayonnaise, then stuff the mixture into a warm, buttery, split-top bun, and garnish with a few leaves of tender butter lettuce. To this day amazes me that something so easy to make, can be so astonishingly delicious.

DOWN EAST LOBSTER ROLL (PRINT RECIPE CARD)

From my book, Summer: A User's Guide

8 ounces cooked lobster meat, torn or cut into bite-size pieces
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1-tablespoon butter, room temperature
2 hot dog rolls
2-4 leaves of butter (Boston) lettuce

Combine lobster and mayonnaise in medium bowl, then season to taste with salt and pepper. Butter outside surfaces of hot dog rolls.

Heat skillet over medium-high heat and place rolls, buttered side down, in pan; cook until browned slightly (appx 2 minutes per side).

Fill toasted rolls with lettuce leaves, then stuff with lobster.

Makes 2 rolls.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

South of the Border, New York


Maybe it's the tropical weather we've been having these past few weeks, or maybe I'm simply bored, bored, bored to death with Pinot Grigio + Sauvignon Blanc, but lately I've had a mean hankering for a big, salt-rimmed margarita, served straight up, with side of warm tortilla chips, and a molcajete filled with creamy guacamole just waiting to be dug into. I don't know about you blogoholics out there, but few things give me more pleasure than eating good, simple, handcrafted foods; make me a BLT with toasted white bread, real mayo, and ripe, red tomatoes (yes, I'm still eating tomatoes; salmonella, shmalmonella) and I'm the happiest girl in the world, pass me a bowl of fresh pasta with butter and grated Parmesan cheese and I will be your friend for life, and I can't even begin to to tell you what I will do for a crispy, thin-crust New Haven-style clam pizza, cooked outside on the grill. So, when I tell you that I've been itching for a couple of margarita's and a belly full of guacamole, I guess you know by now that it can't just be any old margarita, or ho-hum guacamole that passes by these taste buds, and down into this gullet of mine. Nope, I can't settle, and I won't let you settle either, dear reader; there's no time for bland guacamole or sour margarita's in our world.

With the longest day of the year just a few days away (yes, the days will be getting shorter after the 21st) I can think of no better time than right this second, to drop everything you're doing (unless you are holding an infant, carrying a vat of nitroglycerin, storing a priceless Ming vase, or juggling knives), to start squeezing limes, mashing avocado's, and kicking back with some good friends for an impromptu mid-week summertime happy hour.

I'm off to take my own advice...

TRADITIONAL MARGARITA (PRINT RECIPE CARD)
From my book, Summer: A User's Guide

This recipe can easily be modified if you prefer a fruity, frozen Margarita. Simply add a handful of strawberries, some sliced mango, a splash of peach nectar – or whatever kind of summery fruit or fruit juice you have handy – and blend with ice.

1 1/2 ounces tequila
1-ounce Cointreau, Grand Marnier, or Triple Sec
1-ounce lemon juice
1-ounce lime juice
Kosher salt (optional)
Sliced limes (optional)

If you prefer your margarita with salt, pour salt onto small dish, moisten rim of chilled cocktail glass with sliced lime, and dip into salt. For a straight-up cocktail, add all ingredients and cracked ice to a cocktail shaker, shake well, then strain into a margarita glass. Garnish with a slice of lime. Makes 1 cocktail.

CANTINA GUACAMOLE (PRINT RECIPE CARD)
From my book, Summer: A User's Guide

If you’d like, you can add some minced jalapeños to this recipe to spice it up, or some chopped cilantro for a bit of South of the Border flavor.

2 plum tomatoes
2 firm-ripe California avocados
2 tablespoons minced red onion
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
Salt and pepper, to taste

Quarter tomatoes, remove seeds and chop. Halve and pit avocados, scoop flesh into a bowl and mash (you can use your hands, a masher or a mortar and pestle). Stir in remaining ingredients.
Season with salt and pepper to taste. Makes 2 cups.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Goat Stew and Mamposteao

Note: Forgive me; I posted this yesterday on my Suzanne Brown weblog from Puerto Rico, but it seems more appropriate for this web journal, so I am double posting for the first time ever. I will be back in New York on Sunday night, so give me a few days to work these recipes out in my head, then the kitchen, and hopefully get them posted by the end of the week. I also realize that there is a very good chance that these recipes will fall outside of the monthly chile theme, but they are so good, I simply couldn't resist breaking away from our regularly scheduled programming..

Bold Claims and Goat Stew
It's 10:00 am in San Juan and I just got back from a rigorous workout at the hotel gym, where I attempted to sweat out of my pickled body the seven hundred cocktails, and five billion calories I've consumed in the past forty eight hours. To say I've been on an eating jag is an understatement; I came here to eat my way through San Juan, and, overachiever that I am, that's just what I've been doing.

Last night we had a superlative dinner at a restaurant in Condado, called Ropa Vieja. I actually went there for the classic dish, ropa vieja, but the goat stew caught both my eye and attention as the owners confidently claimed it was "The Best in the World." Now, I can claim many things about myself; I'm a trustworthy friend, I have a wry sense of humor, I am pretty good in the kitchen, I like to think I'm a decent writer and designer. But, Best in the World??! That's a bold statement, and one you better be able to back up. So, I called them on their brazen claim, and ordered the goat stew with a side of rice and beans, and for a starter, a cazuela of cuttlefish broiled in garlic and wine. Jay--our faithful dining and drinking buddy for the past two evenings, and always open-minded and enthusiastic about new foods and experiences, which is what I love about him--engaged in a lengthy and passionate dialogue with the owner about the difference between Cuban and Puerto Rican rice and beans (for those who care, Cuban is black, Puerto Rican is red), and the next thing we knew, the most delicious dish of rice and bean dish I have ever tasted--Mamposteao--was delivered to our table. Even Jay, who just lost twenty pounds on a low-carb diet, and has ten more to go, couldn't resist throwing Atkins out the window, and dug in to this traditional Puerto Rican dish with gusto. I cannot wait to get back home to make it, test it, and share the recipe.

But let's move ahead to the goat, shall we? (I'm not dismissing the tender, juicy and superbly garlicky cuttlefish, but I have tanning and cocktails by the pool to get to after all). The goat stew--tender pieces of lamb, still on the bone--simmered for hours with tomatoes, and onions, and peppers, and traditional Puerto Rican spices, was so meltingly tender, so stuffed with flavor, that I actually closed my eyes after the first bite, and took a deep breath, like I had just witnessed something incredibly moving. The rice was perfect, and I used it to sop up all the flavorful tomato and lamb broth, and then grabbed a wedge of bread and mopped up the rest; when I was done, all that was left on my plate were the picked-clean lamb bones, and a few bay leaves. I have not had many stews made of goat in my life, but the ones I have had pale in comparison to the dish last night at Ropa Vieja. Of course we are going back this evening to try the actual dish, ropa vieja; if it is anything like the Best in the World Goat Stew, I may never return back to New York.

Suzanne Brown 2-9-08

Monday, February 4, 2008

Ropa Vieja


Ropa Vieja—Spanish for "Old Clothes"—is one of those sexy peasant dishes that made it's way across from Spain, from deep within ships galleys, to the Caribbean islands, and Cuba. Honestly, just the thought of those tattered shreds of beef, bathed in a rich, chile-infused tomato broth, and spooned over fragrant rice gets my heart pounding, and my salivary glands juicing up, like I'm a vampire at a blood bank.

I'm hopping a plane to Puerto Rico on Wednesday morning, and by dinnertime that same day, you can bet dollars to donuts (whatever the heck that means) a big, heaping bowl of ropa vieja will be placed before me like some sacred offering to the Gods. Of course—cholesterol, be damned—I will make short work of that jumble, as well as the two orders of rice and bean chasers I plan on demolishing shortly thereafter. In preparation for my forthcoming Puerto Rican Culinary Olympics, I have a flank steak simmering on the stovetop as I type. It's almost tender, so next comes the spices, which goes without saying are my favorite part. For without big, generous spoonfuls of hot, savory, tantalizing spices, added liberably and lustily to your everyday blah, blah, ho-hum, then tell me, dear reader, what exactly is the point of life?

Ropa Vieja
2 pounds flank steak (or skirt steak)
2 carrots, chopped
3 celery stalk, chopped
2 bay leaves
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 yellow onions, chopped
3 jalapenos, minced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
Salt (to taste)
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin


Place the meat in a large stock pot with carrots, celery, bay leaf and enough water to cover by 1-2 inches. Simmer, uncovered, for 2-3 hours, or until meat is very tender.

Allow meat to cool, then remove from broth. Strain broth, discard vegetables and return broth to stockpot and bring to a rolling boil for about a half hour, or until liquid is reduced in half. Meanwhile, shred meat with your a fingers or a fork into rough, stringy pieces, and set aside.

In a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat, then add garlic, onions, jalapenos and green pepper. Cook until tender (about 8-10 minutes), then add salt. Add all of the cooked and remaining ingredients to the stockpot and cook for another 10-15 minutes, until flavors are well combined. Serve over white rice, with fried plantains or black beans on the side. And, if you really want to impress, some homemade flan is never a bad idea for dessert.

This recipes serves about 4. Double if you are having a party; this is a great dish to make ahead, and simply reheat before serving.

Suzanne Brown 2.4.08

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Morrocan-Spiced Vegetables with Couscous, Chickpeas + Grilled Chicken


A few weeks ago I wrote about a superlative lamb stew I enjoyed under a tent at Savuti Camp in Botswana while on safari with my sister-in-law, Arlene. Savuti was the first of three camps we visited, and we fell madly, head-over-heels in love with every person, every animal, every experience we had during our sojourn, and we made friends that we still—despite being half a world apart—keep in touch with to this day. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried like two-year-old that hadn't napped when we finally had to leave this Shangri La, but at Kwetsani Camp, in the Okavango Delta, a whole new world awaited us; baboons stealing the soap from our outdoor shower, scorpions scurrying across the floor of our loo, a whole new cast of characters to get to know. But the highlight of our stay--one of the most perfect evenings of my life--was a traditional African meal served out in the bush, under a canopy of sparkling South African stars.

This particular dinner came as surprise to us; after a typical safari day of watching eles, and hippo, and giraffe, rather then heading back to camp, our guide instead drove us through a thicket of scrubby brush, to a large clearing, lit up by a wild, blazing bonfire. Upon exiting the Rover, we were greeted by the camp staff singing traditional African songs, while playing percussive instruments. As the beat increased, they started dancing around the fire, and—after a few lubricating cocktails—we kicked off our shoes and joined in the dance as well (as they say, "when in Rome...")

And then, under an African sky peppered with so many sparkling stars that I had to pull my eyes away, lest I fall under a spell, we all—friends and strangers, from different worlds, and lives, and backgrounds—sat down at a long table, covered in white linen, and topped with fine crystal. We started our meal with a soul-restoring pumpkin soup, laced with cinnamon, and cumin, and coriander, and oh, how I wish I knew what else! In between courses, we chatted with the other guests and amazingly, I discovered that the gentleman sitting directly across from me was not only from my hometown, but knew my brothers as well (reminding me once again what a small world it truly is). For our entree, we hungrily dug into fluffy couscous, nutty chickpeas, and exotic, spiced vegetables, served, the African way, with grilled meat, on the side. I loved every second of the evening and never wanted it to end. But that's the thing about Africa, the more you experience it, the more you want it, the more you need it; it's the most addictive drug I've ever known.

Morrocan-Spiced Vegetables with Couscous, Chick Pea + Grilled Chicken
You can use grilled chicken, or beef or lamb with this dish. Or, skip the meat all together and make this a vegetarian dish. For the couscous, simply follow the directions for the entire box.

Garnish

Dried apricots, soaked in warm water for ten minutes, then thinly sliced
Toasted pine nuts
Shelled pistachios

Spiced Vegetables
8-10 (really fresh, preferably organic) carrots, sliced
1 butternut squash (preferably organic), diced
1 large onion, diced
3 cloved garlic, minced
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
1/2 tablespoon ground coriander
Salt + Pepper to taste

Place all ingredients in a roasting pan and roast in 450 degree oven for 1-1 1/2 hours, or until vegetables are just tender.

Chick Peas
2 cups dried chick peas
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
Place chick peas in a large bowl, cover with water (+1"), then soak for 8 hours, or overnight. Drain, rinse and place peas in large pot. Add 5 cups water and 1 teaspoon cumin seeds, bring to boil, then simmer until peas are soft (appx. 2 hours.) Add more water as needed. When tender, drain and set aside.

Composing the Dish
When ready to compose, place couscous in the center of the platter, spoon vegetables, and chick peas around edges, add meat. Sprinkle pine nuts, pistachios, and chopped apricots over the top and serve at warm or at room temperature.

Enjoy!
Suzanne Brown 1.31.08

Monday, January 21, 2008

Sweet Potatoes + Acorn Squash in Spicy Coconut Milk


Unable to sleep at 2:00 a.m. this morning, I tossed and turned, trying to distract myself with visions of seascapes, and secret gardens, until finally I just gave up trying and instead started planning my next cumin-inspired meal. Too weary (and cold, since heating your house with wood means a 50 degree bedroom in the wee hours) to drag myself into the kitchen to look for inspiration in my cookbook library, I instead chose to throw tradition out the window (methaphorically speaking , of course), and simply improvise a meal in my head; by 2:45 a.m. I had decided upon a vegetarian supper inspired by the flavors of Asia; sweet potatoes and acorn squash, bathed in a rich coconut milk sauce. Can you say, "aroi mak" (very delicious, in Thai)?

This spicy, flavor-packed dish is wonderful spooned over steamed basmati rice, but can certainly share center stage with a simple chicken or beef dish, if you can't survive without protein for a few hours. However you serve it, prepare for a chiminea-like warmth in your belly; the perfect antidote for a bitter January evening.

Sweet Potatoes + Acorn Squash in Spicy Coconut Milk
5 sweet potatoes, peeled, diced into 1" cubes
1 acorn squash (or butternut squash, or a combo of the two), peeled, diced into 1" cubes
1 yellow onion, diced
2-3 tablespoons chopped, fresh ginger
2 garlic cloves
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin
3/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
1 - 13.5 oz can coconut milk (not lite)
1/2 cup water
Chopped cilantro

Steam the potatoes and squash for 10 minutes, or until just barely soft. Drain, set aside.

Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in skillet or wok over medium-high heat, then add onions, cumin, coriander, cayenne pepper, and garam masala, and cook until onions are tender. Remove from pan and set aside. In same skillet, add 2 tablespoons olive oil until hot, then cook sweet potatoes and squash until golden, stirring occasionally (about 5 minutes). Add onion mixture, coconut milk and water, continue cooking for another 5 minutes, then serve over basmati rice.

Serves 4

Simple (but by no means boring) Spiced Rice
4 cups water
2-3 teaspoons salt
1 cinnamon stick
1/4 teaspoon saffron
2 cups basmati rice

Bring water, salt cinnamon, and saffron to a boil in a saucepan. Add rice, reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for approximately 2o minutes, or until liquid is evaporated. (note: don't peek; good rice gets that way by not being checked on.)

Suzanne Brown 1.21.08

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Arroz Con Pollo + Black Beans


¡Soy así que excitado; amos a Puerto Rico! (Translation: I'm so excited; we're going to Puerto Rico!)

Looking as pale and pasty as could be (short of laying on a gurney with a tag tied to my toe), and seriously needing a break from Ice Melt, 4-wheel drive, and Thinsulate, we just booked a little getaway to Old San Juan. For those who have never been there, Puerto Rico is a bubbling stockpot of excitement; the weather is pretty much perfect every day of the year, the music makes even the most buttoned-up wallflowers start tapping their toes, and the food is...well, where do I begin? Puerto Rican food is sassy, and flavorful, and exciting, filled with warm, earthy spices, and loads of garlic and onions. Like all my favorite foods, it gets its roots from simple, filling, peasant fare. Rice, beans, pork, chicken, fish, plantains, and fresh vegetables make up the typical Puerto Rican menu; there are blissfully no anxiety-inducing cream sauces, no expensive cuts of meat, and no complicated preparations. Puerto Rican food is food for the soul, that you roll up your sleeves for, and dig into heartily, stopping only to take a sip of a cold cerveza, and maybe let out a sigh, and close your eyes in utter delight.

In anticipation of our trip, I am making Arroz con Pollo with black beans tonight for dinner. I've been cooking the black beans with two ham hocks, and a handful of seasonings for about two hours now, and the smell is so amazing, that my mouth is watering like I am Homer Simpson in a Krispy Kreme shop. Clearly, it's time to roll up my sleeves, and start digging in.

Black Beans
16 oz. bag of dried black beans
1 or 2 ham hocks
6 cups chicken stock
6-8 cloves of garlic, whole
1 heaping teaspoon, cumin
2 bay leaves
Salt + Pepper, as needed

Soak beans in cold water for 2-4 hours, then drain and rinse. Throw all the ingredients into a stockpot, and simmer for 2-3 hours. Beans should be tender, and still inside their skins when ready. Season with salt and pepper if needed. Remove ham hocks and bay leaves, and serve beside white rice, or arroz con pollo.

Arroz Con Pollo
Chicken
3 lbs of chicken thighs, skin on/bone-in
1/2 cup flour, seasoned with a bit salt and pepper
Olive oil

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Dredge chicken in flour, then cook chicken in batches in the pan, turning once (and adding more oil if necessary), so until the chicken is browned on both sides. Remove pieces from pan and drain on paper towels.

Rice
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups long-grain white rice
1 yellow onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 red pepper, sliced into thin strips
1 green pepper, sliced into thin strips
2 heaping tablespoons diced tomatoes (canned or fresh)
4 cups chicken stock
1-2 cups cooked peas (optional)

Heat oil in stockpot over medium-high heat, add rice, and stir to coat. Cook rice, stirring only occasionally, until golden brown. Add onion, garlic, peppers and tomatoes, and continue cooking for 5 or so minutes. Add chicken stock and chicken pieces to the pot, then cover and simmer for approximately 20-25 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through, and rice is tender. Stir in peas if you'd like, season with salt and pepper, and serve.

Serves 4-6

Suzanne Brown 1.17.08

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

African Lamb Stew


There are some meals in life that for whatever the reason--taste, setting, company, two too many glasses of Cabernet--that you remember forever. I have several meals that stand out over the years that I feel are worthy of taking up precious space in my ever-dwindling supply of brain cells, and I am happy to share them with you today.

-A lobster roll, at Red's Eats in Wiscasset, Maine. So good, I gobbled it down in three bites, then went back for another.

-A plain, brown paper bag filled with briny, juicy, indescribably delicious, fried whole-belly clams, on Martha's Vineyard.

-Ropa Vieja at Puerta Sagua's in South Beach, Miami.

-My grandmothers matzoh ball soup.

-The mixed green salad with a farmers egg, at Blue Hill Restaurant in Pocantico Hills.

-Linguini with manilla clams, made by Juan, at the Fish Market in San Diego.

-Ravioli Alfredo at Luna's, on Mulberry Street in Little Italy.

-A bowl of hot chicken broth that Jerry brought me after three days of not eating because of a bout of food poisoning.

-A 3-lb, perfectly grilled lobster, at Charlie's Crab in Hilton Head.

-My first fish taco, at Fred's in San Diego (and then another a few days later at Taco Loco in Laguna Beach, after a morning of surfing lessons).

-Grilled hotdogs, at Rumrunners, on the beach at Hilton Head.

-Lamb stew, at Savuti Camp, Botswana.

As I look over my list, I'm amused at how diverse it is; clearly I'm not swayed by ethnicity or pricetag! Instead, I like to think (outside of the food poisoning, and my grandmothers Perfect 10 matzoh ball soup), that these meals were special not just because they tasted good, but because they were part of a road trip, an adventure, a departure from the everyday blah, blah, blah baked chicken. Certainly I've had my share of lamb stew in my lifetime (thank you, St. Patrick), but when I enjoyed it under a starlit sky in Botswana, sitting around a candlelit table, with Arlene, a bakers dozen of strangers, and safari guides, with elephants trumpeting at the waterhole just feet away, and plenty of good wine being poured freely and generously, it suddenly became the best lamb stew of my life.

And so, I encourage you to take a day this weekend, or the next, to get in your car and just drive. Drive to a town you've never been to, but always wanted to explore. Or, head into the nearest city, and take a chance on a restaurant that might open your mind, and your palate. For if there is one thing I've learned on my culinary journey, it's that you don't have to travel the globe for a wonderful meal; sometimes, the taste of a salty hotdog on a hot August afternoon, can remain in your memory for a lifetime.

African Lamb (or beef) Stew
2 lbs. boneless shoulder of lamb, cut into 2-inch chunks (or, feel free to substitute stewing beef)
2-4 tablespoons olive oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon hot paprika
16 oz can chopped tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon finely grated orange zest (no pith)
1 cinnamon stick, or 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup dried apricots
Salt + pepper (to taste)
1/2 toasted (in a dry skillet) pine nuts (optional)

Place a bit of olive oil in a large skillet or wok over high heat, and cook meat in batches until browned on all sides (add more olive oil as needed). Place meat in a stock pot, then saute onion and garlic in the skillet or wok until tender. Add onions and garlic to stockpot along with chicken stock, cumin, paprika, tomatoes, orange zest, and cinnamon, and cook over medium-low heat for approximately 2 hours. Add apricots, and continue to cook until beef it fork-tender (about another 1/2 - 1 hour). Season with salt and pepper, if needed. When ready to serve, spoon over white rice, couscous, or mealie meal (cooked white cornmeal), and top with toasted pine nuts.

Serves 4.

PS. This is even better the next day, so if you have the time, make the stew one day ahead, then reheat

PS.PS.
This is a photo I keep on my desk of my sister-in-law, Arlene, and me in Africa. We had just enjoyed a few sundowners out in the bush (Sundowners are the safari equivalent of happy hour, except there's usually not a chance of getting eaten by a lion at your neighborhood pub). I don't recall what has Arlene laughing so hard in this picture, but I tend to think it has something to do with the absurdity of having a wild elephant meandering by directly behind us as we posed.

Suzanne Brown 1.15.07

Monday, January 14, 2008

Green Chile Pork


We had a wee bit of snow last evening, which I was secretly hoping would lead to one of those classic snow days, where commerce would come to grinding halt, and I would snuggle in for the duration, with the woodstove cranking, and a big pot of deliciousness simmering on the back burner. Alas, the much feared BIG! storm of 2008 turned out to be an anemic one at best, and so commerce pushes forward, and sadly, so do I. I did, however, stock up on groceries in anticipation of a potential blizzard, and so right now the house is filled to the rafters with the scent of cumin, and chiles, and garlic, and goodness. Inspired by the pork taquito's I dug into this past Saturday at Dos Camino's on Park and 26th, I've got a stew of green chiles, and pork simmering away in my slow cooker, just waiting to be tucked into flour tortilla's, and cooled off with a spoonful of sour cream, come dinnertime.

This is one of those recipes that gets even better the next day, so if you're ambitious, make it the day before, then simply reheat when you're ready for a belly full of yum.

Green Chile Pork
1 - 3 tablespoons olive oil
2 pounds boneless pork, cubed
1 yellow onion, chopped
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 cup chicken broth
4.5 ounce can chopped green chiles
14.5 oz can diced or stewed tomatoes
1/2 jalapeno, or hot red pepper, seeded and chopped (optional...only if you prefer extra spicy)
Salt + Pepper, to taste
Warm tortilla's (flour or corn), or rice, or cornbread (optional)

Heat oil in a wok or heavy skillet on high heat, then cook pork in batches, until browned on all sides. Remove pork with a slotted spoon and place in crockpot, then saute onions and garlic in the wok/skillet until tender. Add onions and garlic to crockpot, then mix in cumin, chicken broth, chiles, tomatoes. Simmer on low heat for 6-8 hours, or until meat is very tender. Season with salt and pepper. When ready to serve, spoon over white rice, or tuck into warm flour or corn tortillas and top with salsa and/or sour cream. Or, just serve in a big bowl with a wedge of cornbread on the side.

P.S. By all means, feel free to cook this on your stovetop. Just simmer on low heat in a heavy stockpot or dutch oven, until pork is tender (approximately 3-4 hours).

Serves 4

Spice + Life


The idea for this weblog has been stewing and brewing around in my head for some time now. I originally thought it would be fun to write a book about my taste travels, and the spices I encountered along the way, but then I wrote Summer, and everything changed; I suddenly found myself writing about New England lobster rolls, as opposed to Vietnamese summer rolls, surf shack fish tacos, rather than green chile pork tacos. But I'm certainly not complaining, as I loved writing about my very favorite season, and the wonderful foods that go along with fresh air, abundant sunshine, outdoor cooking. Nope, no regrets here.

But I'm currently in publishing limbo, and find myself with some welcome free time on my hands, and so, I thought to myself "why not?" Why not take a stab at creating an online destination for foodies who love adding a bit of spice not only to their recipes, but to their lives as well. My goal is to explore as many global tastes as possible (ambitious yes, but I do live in New York, so not impossible) and to translate those experiences into an inspiring culinary destination.

As those who know me well will sagely concur, there will most definitely be bumps, and potholes, and construction signs along this road I'm planning to travel, but that--without saying--is half the fun. For it's only when you ignore the road blocks, and veer off that well-worn, heavily-trodden path, that you somehow, without a moments planning, stumble upon the best meal of your life. I invite you to join me on my journey.

Suzanne Brown 1.14.08