love.life.eat
a relentless pursuit of the perfect home + dish
a moveable feast: mango, avocados, greens + guac!
Posted on May 14, 2013
To say that every day I wake to a typhoon or a circus or something in between would be a grand understatement. The past few months have been exhilarating, thrilling, frightening and magical all at once. Not only did I have a chance to explore unknown cities, I’ve had the luxury of rediscovering art, finding it, having it find me, and somewhere along the way I’ve managed to create a little bit of art of my own. I’m starting to learn who I can trust and who I can’t. I’ve become weary of the intensity of people, and am now drawn to the quietness and calm of others. I say Good Morning, I read Faust, I write longer emails to friends (from one line to a paragraph!). I don’t know what I want next, but I think I do. Every day is a stutter, a series of starts and stops, and the constant, the satisfying threadline through all of this has been food. Always the food.
I had a dear friend come round this weekend, and I prepared a feast that made us swoon. Verdant, flavorful and bright, it was a delicious melange of texture and taste, and not for a moment did we feel we were missing something because it was vegetarian and virtuous (or at least, semi-virtuous, as we had a heaping of fried millet falafel). Rather, we were sated, full, and excited to dive into my stash of French dark chocolates.
We spent four hours trading stories about our respective experiences the past few months, and it occurred to me that the other crucial threadline, perhaps one that supersedes food, are friends. Those great, magical people who are always there, who talk you off ledges, who encourage you to climb new ones, and those who tell you that although the millet falafels are far from attractive, they are DAMN GOOD.
INGREDIENTS
For the salad
2 cups packed baby kale
1 cup packed spinach
1 cup packed arugula
1/2 cup cashews, toasted in a dry pan
1/2 cup fresh blueberries
2 oz soft cheese of your choice (I used a truffled cow’s milk cheese that had the texture of brie, however, you can use goat, brie, or gorgonzola)
1/4 sundried tomatoes, packed in olive oil
1 tbsp olive oil
Sea salt/cracked pepper to taste
For the mango + avocado salad, dressed in a lime balsamic vinaigrette: Recipe adapted from Gwyneth Paltrow’s It’s All Good
2 ripe mangoes, peeled, pitted, and thinly sliced
2 ripe avocados, peeled, pitted, and thinly sliced
Coarse sea salt
1 batch Balsamic-Lime Vinaigrette (we didn’t use all of the dressing, but used about 1/4 of it. That might have also been the case because I knocked over the dressing and spilled it all over the table.)
A small handful of fresh basil leaves
For the basil-lime vinaigrette
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp brown rice syrup
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lime juice
¼ cup plus 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Coarse sea salt
Freshly ground pepper
For the guacamole
1 ripe avocado
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh cilantro
2 stalks of scallions, fine dice (all parts: white, green, light green)
juice + zest of half a lime
Sea salt + pepper to taste
DIRECTIONS
For the salad: Toss all of the ingredients above. Only add the olive oil when you’re about to serve, as the leaves will wilt.
For the mango + lime salad + vinaigrette: Whisk the vinegar, brown rice syrup, and lime juice together in a mixing bowl. Slowly whisk in the olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Keeps well in a jar in the fridge for up to a week. Alternate slices of mango and avocado on a serving platter and scatter with a pinch of sea salt. Drizzle with the Balsamic-Lime vinaigrette; tear the basil leaves and sprinkle them over the top. Serve immediately.
For the guacamole: Cut + core the avocado and crush the meat with the tines of your fork. Add in all of the ingredients and serve with carrots, chips, or strips of red bell peppers.
burrata, arugula + edamame salad
Posted on May 6, 2013
Words cannot express how much I LOVED this salad. Riding into the city, I flipped through the latest issue of Bon Appetit, and I felt the rapture coming. The original recipe calls for sugar snap peas, but I opted to use protein-packed edamame instead. The salad is light, flavorful and perfect with chunks of a fresh baguette.
After a breakfast of blueberry pancakes with my sweet friend Alex, believe me when I say that this would make for a very virtuous, albeit delicious, follow-up. Although I should be clear: I do not regret the BLUEBERRY PANCAKES WITH ROSEMARY SAUSAGE.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit, and modified slightly.
Serves 4
8 ounces shelled, cooked + cooled edamame (I use frozen edamame, cook for 4 minutes, drain + rinse with cool water)
4 cups arugula, thick stems trimmed
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves plus more for serving
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves plus more for serving
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons (or more) fresh lemon juice
Flaky sea salt (such as Maldon)
1 pound burrata or fresh buffalo mozzarella
DIRECTIONS
Combine cooked and rinsed edamame, arugula, 1/4 cup basil, and 1/4 cup mint in a large bowl. Add oil and 2 tablespoons lemon juice and toss to coat. Season salad with salt and more lemon juice, if desired.
Tear open balls of burrata (if using buffalo mozzarella, slice 1/2-inch thick) and arrange on a platter. Top with salad and more basil and mint.
sweet + spicy quinoa hash
Posted on May 5, 2013
Never settle for anything less than extraordinary. Every morning I say this to myself, and I believe it. You have this one great, sweeping life, so why should it be mediocre? Why should it be a thing through which you slouch rather than something to which you triumphantly leap? Even in my darkest days — and I’ve had my share, believe me — I try to ferret out beauty from even the most trivial things.
Today I witnessed someone settle. My friend Kate was trying on skirts and I was there to provide honest feedback and comic relief, and I watched as a woman stared at herself in a dress that clearly gave her discomfort. You could tell that she really wanted to make the dress work (she tried on various sizes, deliberated extensively with her friend and two sales associates), and stared at herself in the mirror as if willing the dress to be everything she wish it could.
It took everything in me to not interrupt. To tell her that there are other dresses, ones which will put her heart on pause, the kind that will make her jump up and down. But I didn’t, and I watched her skulk to the register and spend $200 on the ordinary.
Since I’ve returned from Europe, I’ve been having this craving for virtuosity. Call it a croissant rebellion, but I’m finding that I want quinoa, kale and piles of vegetables. However, eating healthy sometimes suffers a bad rap, and no matter how hard I soak quinoa it’ll never be a bacon cheeseburger and fries.
I MEAN. LET’S GET REAL HERE. LET US FROLIC IN THE WORLD THAT WE LIKE TO CALL REALITY.
I’m determined to find delicious recipes that will surprise me. Recipes that will not have me reaching for a bowl of cereal in an hour’s time. Enter the yummy sweet potato hash. When I found this recipe in Women’s Health, I ripped it out and was determined to make it, and I’m THRILLED to relay that the hash does not disappoint. From the extraordinary flavors to the fact that it was actually FILLING, my only regret was not making more of it. In future iterations, I definitely see me adding toasted pistachios or pine nuts, and perhaps a smattering of goat cheese.
My recommendation? MAKE THIS NOW. AS IN RIGHT NOW.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe adapted from Women’s Health, with modifications
For the quinoa*
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
1 cup quinoa, rinsed under cold water for 1 minute
For the hash
2 tsp coconut oil
a pinch of red pepper flakes (1/8 tsp)
3/4 cup cubed sweet potato (this is about 1/2 of a large sweet potato)
1/2 cup chopped kale (I prefer baby kale leaves of Tuscan kale, not the curly kind)
1 clove minced garlic
1/2 cup of the cooked quinoa
1/8 tsp sea salt
*This will make four servings. I like to make quinoa in bulk, so I can add it to sweet + savory dishes.
DIRECTIONS
For the love of god, please rinse your quinoa. Your dish will benefit from sitting under a faucet for a minute. Once your quinoa is rinsed, add it to your stock and bring the mixture to a boil. Once it’s bubbling, reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes, or until all of the water is absorbed.
While the quinoa is cooking, melt your coconut oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add a pinch of red pepper flakes and the cubed sweet potato, then sauté for 5-7 minutes. Stir in the chopped kale, minced garlic and the sea salt, and sauté for 3 minutes, or until the leaves have wilted. Add the cooked quinoa and heat through for another minute.
vegan, virtuous + delightful: cafe pinson, paris
Posted on April 21, 2013
As you can imagine, I blame Gwyneth Paltrow for most things: the existence of $800 orange shorts, wooden bracelets that cost nearly a third of my rent, and an overall obsession with everything-free cooking and baking. In Gwyneth’s rarified world, we’re running through blades of grass, pulling stalks as we go, and our dinner is foraged on our very expensive (read: private to you plebeians) land. However, I can’t deny the fact that the recipes I tested before my European sojourn were the real thing. That, coupled with my doctor’s voice in my head (less refined flour! less sugar!), had me searching for a more virtuous shop in Paris. Does such shop exist?
My friends, it does. Enter Cafe Pinson.
There was a moment when I felt transplanted back to Brooklyn. A maniacal obsession with coffee, a shaggy-haired barista, and accessible WIFI were all signs of Williamsburg, except for the fact that everyone speaks French. A light, airy atmosphere in the Northern Marais district (home to a lot of virtuous and on-trend spots, I’ve learned), Pinson serves up organic + vegetarian cuisine, with a mostly vegan lunch menu. Scores of my friends swear by its lunch fare, which is inventive and tasty, but on one particular morning, I settled into a sunken chair and sipped on my almond-milk cappuccino (rare, even in New York!), freshly-squeezed juice, and a rather moist and yummy banana loaf. Not only was my breakfast delicious, the atmosphere was welcoming, quiet and the place you’d want to go if you were seeking a little quiet.
In retrospect, maybe I should’ve rolled in and opted for a lentil salad, etc, instead of a loaf, considering my attempt at a carb-free day. No such luck.
risotto with greens + a decadent chocolate cake — it’s all virtuous!
Posted on April 6, 2013
The hardest part of telling people about the goodness in Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook is getting past the hot mess that is Gwyneth Paltrow and that rarified world of which she believes to be our reality. In Gwyneth’s world, we’re sporting $850 leather shorts, charring paper-thin pizzas in our outdoor ovens, and frolicking through reeds of grass whilst munching on Amagansett apples. Part of me hopes that Winona Ryder will resurface from her stupor and launch the anti-GOOP, a noir-hued website where a chain-smoking, cheeseburger-eating life is as good as it gets. However, this idyll is very much a Waiting for Godot situation, and I’ve admitted, albeit grudgingly, that Paltrow’s book is quite good. My friend Hitha has decided to ignore Paltrow and instead give credit to Paltrow’s co-writer, Julia Turshen.
I very much like this strategy.
To say that Hitha and I adore food is an understatement. Devoted followers of the gospel that is Michael Pollan, ardent believers in the notion that our body is the home in which we want to live rather than the apartment we’re renting, my sweet friend and I often get together and spend days cooking, eating, and photographing our food. You’ll find us standing on top of chairs, adjusting plates, contemplating linens and trying to find that shot, and I’m humbled to have found such a kindred spirit. So on a day that whispers spring, we decided to give a bunch of Gwynnie’s recipes a go.
On the menu? A virtuous verdant risotto, a kale salad dressed with seasoned turkey bacon (I hope my Twitter friend Michael isn’t reading this!), and a decadent two-layer chocolate cake with “buttercream.” Hitha made the killer risotto and salad, while I focused on dessert, and I have to say that we did a pretty fox job! We marveled over the rich, satiny texture of the risotto (sans cheese!) and the buttercream that had no dairy or butter, yet tasted very much like the real deal. Here’s to eating mindfully and a meal that left us satiated.
Risotto with Greens: Adapted from It’s All Good, with modifications
INGREDIENTS + DIRECTIONS
1 quart vegetable stock
1 lemon
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, finely diced (about 3/4 cup)
1 leek, white and light green parts only, throughly washed and finely diced
2 garlic cloves, finely minced
leaves from 6 sprigs of thyme
coarse sea salt
1 cup Arborio rice
2 cups baby spinach (we didn’t have this on hand, but will definitely add this next time)
1/4 cup chopped basil
Freshly ground black pepper
Warm the vegetable stock in a small pot and set it on the back burner over low heat. Using a Microplane grater or a zester, zest the lemon and set the zest aside. Cut the lemon in half, juice it and set the juice aside.
Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large, heavy pot set over high heat. Add the onion and leek, turn the heat down to medium, and cook until the vegetables just begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and thyme along with a big pinch of salt and cook until all the aromatics are, well, aromatic, another 2 minutes.
Turn the heat to high, add the rice and the reserved lemon juice and stir to combine all the ingredients. Cook until the lemon juice is just evaporated and then stir in a ladleful of the warm stock. Continue to stir the risotto until the stock is absorbed, then stir in another ladleful of stock.
Continue in this manner until the rice is cooked through and you’ve used all your stock, about 20 minutes. At this point your arm should feel as if it’s going to fall off and the rice should be luxuriously creamy and rich.
Stir in the reserved lemon zest, the greens (these will cook with the risotto’s residual heat), the basil and a few healthy grinds of pepper. Serve immediately.
Kale Salad with Gwyneth’s “Momo’s Special Turkey Bacon”
INGREDIENTS + DIRECTIONS
6 cups of mixed kale leaves, chopped
1 cup shredded carrots
2 tbsp olive oil
Salt/pepper
8 oz pack of turkey bacon (8 slices)
2 tbsp yellow mustard
2 tbsp maple syrup
Mix the greens with the carrots and toss in the olive oil, salt + pepper to taste. Set aside.
Pre-heat the broiler (or oven to 450F). Lay the bacon on a foil-lined cookie sheet. Whisk together the mustard and the syrup. Using a pastry brush (or spoon), “paint” half of it on the slices. Broil for one minute, then turn it and coat the other side of each slice with the remaining mixture. Broil for another 1-2 minutes, or until crispy. Break up the bacon into chunks and toss into the salad.
Chocolate Cake + Darleen’s Healthy Buttercream
INGREDIENTS + DIRECTIONS
For the Cake: Click here for the recipe. Instead of using a cupcake/muffin tin, grease two nine-inch cake pans. Bake for 18 minutes at 350F (the recipe calls for 20, but I thought the cake too done. I’d start checking after 15 minutes), and allow to completely cool for 20 minutes before icing with the buttercream. I like to layer some cream in the middle and on top. Since I like my cakes to be a little rough around the edges, I tend to not go in for the luxe side-sweep, allowing for you to see the contrast of cake and cream from all sides. A woman loves a little crumble on her plate.
One thing Hitha + I noticed that we should bring to your attention. This cake dough is incredibly delicate. I thought this was a result of my flubbed measurements in yesterday’s cupcakes, but since you don’t have egg as the binding agent, the cake will fall apart pretty easily, so handle with care.
Another point to make, the recipe notes that one could use 8 and 9 inch pans interchangeably without denoting the change in cooking times, which is a MAJOR MISS. The density is a marked difference, and I would venture that I’d need 20 minutes for an 8inch pan (as you have a denser cake) and 15-18 minutes for the 9 inch. Although I love the book, I’m starting to see minor errors that can affect the dishes. Not critical for cooking, but tantamount for baking.
For the Buttercream
2 cups Spectrum organic shortening (room temperature). This is a non-hydrogenated palm oil, available at speciality and health food stores, as well as Whole Foods.
1 cup tapioca starch (or tapioca flour, which is the same thing)
1 cup agave nectar (or Grade A light maple syrup)
1 tbsp pure vanilla extract
Place all the ingredients in the bowl of an electric (or stand) mixer and beat with the whisk attachment until light and fluffy. The frosting can be refrigerated for up to one month, but bring it back to room temperature and rewhip before using.
While this whipped cream doesn’t taste exactly like the buttercream to which we’ve been accustomed, my knee-jerk reaction was that it resembled whipped marshmallow or marshmallow fluff. The texture is spot-on and the taste light and sweet. Hitha brought her hubby over and this was definitely a crowd favorite.
two-cheese grits + kale
Posted on March 28, 2013
Lately, I’ve been thinking about relationships, the ties that bind one person to another, and how the love between good, honest people can shelter one another from heartbreak. Even more so I’m considering what it means to know someone, really know someone. Each day I read dozens of blogs, women whom I admire, women who are word artisans, charming itinerants and prolific bakers, but do I really know them? I would posit that I don’t. Rather, I know only one aspect of their character, one they chose to share online; I’m reading an edited version of one’s self, replete with fanciful photographs and a playlist at the ready. Yet, we crave meaningful connection, people who are just like us, or those who we aspire to be, but I would offer this: we don’t really know anyone until we spend time with them. Until we see aspects of their character that’s not always edited for television.
A few days ago I received a comment that irked me. Although it was likely intended to be a compliment — the notion that I had evolved from someone who only cared about her hair to someone who writes lengthy, highly-edited paragraphs about aspects of my personal life that I feel comfortable sharing — it felt much like someone was saying that I was once one-dimensional and now I’m not. Clearly it wouldn’t have bothered me if part of it didn’t hold some semblance of truth. Certainly there was a period in my life when I courted material things, and for a time I chose to put that aspect of my character online. Similarly, years ago I chose to put another aspect of myself online when I wrote about my struggles with alcohol and letting go of my mother. And now, liberated from a job that exhausted me, I feel as if all of the doors have swung open and I can write, freely.
In Spanish, there are two verbs that communicate a state of being, ser and estar. Ser expresses permanence, while estar speaks to how one feels in the moment: the difference between I am a woman and I am tired. Over the years I’ve used this space to practice my estar while my ser remained mostly unchanged. And while I still crave beautiful things, now I like them for different reasons, and I want less of them. But how do you know all facets of one’s character unless you’re connected to them in their lives, when you can see the shifts, albeit tantamount of a minor quaking? Once you have trepass to the full picture, it is then you understand the digressions and splintering.
I’ve been thinking about how well we really know someone. For a time, I consumed copious amounts of Russian literature because many books contemplated the double, namely, the dual nature that resides in all of us; our propensity to be kind and cruel, depending upon the situation. And while I think it’s true that I don’t think you know someone based on their blog posts, tweets and other presented versions of self, I’m also starting to wonder about the people I know in real life.
Were you always this way, or was I too blind to see you for who you really are?
Let’s shift to something that’s comforting…
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Blue Apron
1 cup vegetable broth
2 1/2 cups water
1 large Spanish onion {I nixed this as onions aren’t my bag}
2 cloves garlic
1 bunch kale (2-3 cups), washed + dried
1/2 cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated
3/4 cup grits
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
1 pinch red pepper flakes
1 lemon
1 tsp sesame seeds
DIRECTIONS
Prepare your ingredients: In a medium pot, bring the water + broth to a boil. Rough chop your kale, peel + slice the onion and garlic. Set the onion, garlic, cheese and kale aside.
Cook the grits: When the mixture comes to a bubble, add in the grits and stir frequently for twenty minutes. Leave the grits uncovered.
Cook the onions: While I am not a believer of the caramelized onion, far be it from me to deny you the glory. While the grits cook, heat up some olive oil (2 tbsp usually works) on medium heat until hot. Add the onion, reduce the heat slightly, and cook for 12-15 minutes until the onions are sugary and golden brown. Season with salt + pepper. Transfer the onions to a plate.
Cook the kale: Add a touch more olive oil to the pan and add the garlic and pepper flakes, and then kale. Toss until the kale is slick and coated with oil, garlic and flakes, and let it cook until the leaves are wilted, 3-5 minutes. While you’re doing this you’re still stirring your grits.
Remove the kale from the heat, season with salt and pepper and add a spritz of lemon for additional flavor.
Finish the grits: When the grits are cooked {they’ll thicken considerably}, take them off the heat and add in your cheeses, stirring vigorously. Season with salt + pepper. Add the grits to two plates and add the onions + kale to your bed of delicious cheesiness. Serve!
a week lived in technicolor
Posted on March 23, 2013
1. cobalt blue dress @ anthropologie, fitting for my European holiday | 2. tulips @ union square market | 3. gramercy tavern from the outside | 4. cobalt walls from domino’s small spaces issue | 5. rubirosa supreme pizza @ rubirosa | 6. me trying warby parker specs on for size | 7. books by sam lipsyte + taiye silasi are on deck, along with a soy cappuccino | 8. the finest cup of coffee + chocolate walnut cookie @ la colombe | 9/10. tulips, tulips, tulips | 11/12. my new food joint of the hour: hu kitchen | 13. colombe cookie redux | 14. washington square park, viewed with wide eyes
comodo, take two; grace, take one
Posted on February 12, 2013
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could. ― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum
Lately I’ve been thinking about grace. Those who have it, those who don’t, and what it means to be the kind of person who is brave, strong, rising above the fray. One who orbits around stillness. I’ve long admired those who always seem to handle heartbreak and loss with a dignity that’s often difficult for me to describe. It makes me think of the kind of parent I never had but wish I did. The stalwart mother bandaging wounds, whispering the dark hours away. The mother who tells you stories where the greatest tragedy is the loss of a mitten. The mother who closes your eyes with her kiss — her skin like cashmere — and tells you that everything will always, always, be fine.
I long for a constant state of grace, a semblance of calm amidst the chaos, and to this end I’ve started with a daily intention. Mornings I wake and wonder how I can exude grace in how I talk to people {devices down, eye contact, a sincerity and a compassion for what they’re saying and how they say it}, manage myself in difficult spaces {breathe, breathe, breathe} and how I mentor and care about others {deliver the perspective that comes with age, listen, provide rationality and simple solutions}.
Today I took a long lunch at Comodo with a coworker whom I adore. Her blooming has been a magical thing to see, and I’m trying to be that proverbial professional parent in her life, even though I’m leaving my role in the near future. I tell her that I will always be in her life, always in her heart, and relationships never end they just bloom if harvested.
ligurian chard with pine nuts, quinoa + feta
Posted on January 19, 2013
To say that I’ve an addictive personality would be an understatement. I tend to cleave to things, people, to an excess, to the point where the very thing I once love begins to sicken me. From the blueberry muffin to the glorious almond croissant (I won’t quit you!) to toxic girlfriends, my addiction has run the gamut so I’ve got to be careful.
One of the reasons why I subscribed to Blue Apron Meals {brief parenthetical: I’m in no way, shape or form being compensated or incentivized to prattle on endlessly about these guys — I just seriously love the service and have gotten scores of my work colleagues hooked} is the fact that it affords me meal diversity because I tend to get into a food rut when under considerable work stress. Then all of a sudden the delivery guys have my phone number programmed into their cell phones, and my garbage bin is piled high with leftover tubs of gnocchi pesto. NOT GOOD, PEOPLE. No wins in this scenario and a month of wearing leggings is the epitome of the downward spiral.
So today after French class I raced home and cooked up some healthy and FLAVORFUL chard with pine nuts, feta and quinoa. Not only do I feel virtuous about the food I’m eating (and the money I’m saving), I’m not hitting the Italian restaurant on speed dial.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Blue Apron Meals
1 bunch swiss chard
1 cup quinoa
1/4 cup golden raisins
4oz feta cheese
1 tbsp pine nuts
1/8 tsp red pepper flakes
3 cloves garlic
8-10 Kalamata olives
1 cup vegetable broth
1 small onion
1 lemon
DIRECTIONS
First, put a medium pot of water to a boil. Wash the chard, shake off the excess water. Next thinly slice the greens, onion and garlic. Finally, pit and chop the olives and set everything aside.
Add the quinoa to the boiling water, add a little salt, and cook for 8-10 minutes. While the quinoa is cooking, toast the pine nuts in a dry pan over high heat for a few seconds. Keep an eye on the nuts as they can burn and then you are left crying because pine nuts are EXPENSIVE and you’ve just ruined them. Trust me, I’ve been there. Remove the pine nuts from the heat and set aside.
Once the quinoa is done, drain it well and mix with the golden raisins, half of the pine nuts, half of the cheese, and the juice of half of a lemon. Season with salt (go easy on this as the feta and olives are quite salty) and pepper to taste.
Drizzle a little olive oil (1 tbsp) in a medium pan and turn the heat to high. Sauté the onion, red pepper flakes, and garlic for a few minutes, or until the onions start to soften. The last few Blue Apron recipes I tried I had to dial down the temperature and time as my garlic was getting chard. I had it on medium heat for 2-3 minutes, adding a little salt so the onions could sweat, and I was golden. Then, add the chard and sauté for a few more minutes until the leaves start to wilt.
Next, add the broth to the pan and simmer over medium-high heat. Cook until the broth reduces a bit, 5-6 minutes. Season with salt/pepper to taste.
Divide the quinoa between two plates (or pack a separate tupperware for work, as I do), then serve the chard over the top. Sprinkle the chopped olives over the quinoa and greens. Garnish with remaining cheese and pine nuts, along with a lemon wedge. Enjoy!
quick eats: whole wheat pasta + kale walnut pesto
Posted on January 10, 2013
This week amidst one of many conference calls I took in a remote hotel room I found myself uttering the words, I need to think about my life. I didn’t realize that I’d said this out loud, but I did, and I’m realizing saying this right now means something. Because everything means something even if we don’t know it. Even if we’re trying to deny it. Part of me is battling a tension between my life now and where it could be in a year or two year’s time, and right now, at this moment, I feel very much stuck in the betweens.
So while I sort out all this mess, I’m taking comfort in keeping the rest of my world simple. Easy eats, quiet nights, close friends…
INGREDIENTS
2 cups baby kale, packed
1 cup basil leaves, packed
2 cloves garlic
1/4 cup walnuts, toasted
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp panko (or bread crumbs)
Salt/pepper to taste
Optional: 1/4 cup grated gruyere cheese
1 lb whole wheat penne or rotini
DIRECTIONS:
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. While your water is coming to a boil, blitz in a food processor the kale, basil, garlic, and walnuts until it’s a thick, clumpy paste. Stream in the olive oil and add salt/pepper to taste. Set aside.
Once the water is bubbling, add in a handful of kosher salt. Add the pasta and stir and cook until al dente (1-2 minutes under your package instructions. Once the pasta is done, drain and toss in with the pesto and panko, and add grated cheese or additional walnuts if you’re keen on more flavor.
Enjoy!
chow here now: feel good guru: toronto, ontario
Posted on December 8, 2012
The upside to having a hacking cough that makes me sound as if I’m a trembling woman in her twilight years (you might be wondering if there is such a upside, but I assure you there is) — an aversion to all foods that are naughty and a hunger for all that is virtuous, clean and healing. Over the past week I’ve been an incubus of infection, battling a sore throat and raspy, endless cough, mainlining Vitamin C as if I were on life support and even ingesting Airborne tablets, of which I truly believe to be WORTHLESS. My appetite is not as voracious as it normally is and the only meal that gave me true solace was the delicious kale salad you see here, which can found at Feel Good Guru, a new raw takeout shop located near Trinity Bellwoods Park in Toronto.
Owned and operated by Moira Nordholt, a self-taught vegan chef who “plays with kitchen chemistry” (love that bit), this is not your ubiquitous, greasy takeout joint. From sprouting wheatgrass to homemade raw cookies and fresh juiced concoctions, you’ll feel as if your organs are getting a SHOWER after chowing at Feel Good Guru.
And we won’t talk about the Kit Kat I ate while watching Taken 2 in my hotel room and just say we did.
love.life.eat of the week
Posted on December 2, 2012
love.: Believe me when I say that all credit cards are on lockdown for I’m officially on a buy-iatus. However, that won’t stop me from swooning over the affordable refined cashmere knits, sumptuous scarves and second-skin tees from Everlane. Last year I purchased one of Melissa’s delovely knit cowls, and it’s currently a mainstay in my winter repertoire. So while I’m baking up a storm, I’m keeping warm.
life.: Imagine if you can see the consequences of your decision played out in front of your eyes? A moment’s impulse spiraling events that’s at turns devastating and irrevocable? What if your choice opened doors that were never meant to be open? Such are the questions put to the fore in The Hidden Face, a provocative Spanish thriller that tests the limits of love. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the notion of perspective or point-of-view, how one story has an infinite number of meanings based on the person who’s telling it. Our perception of events, our memory, is at best fractured, because all the players involved piece back the events in random order. And this urge to detangle perspective has me back to my bookshelf (the place to which I return to seek answers) and I’ve been thumbing through Updike, Marquez, A.M. Homes, Nabokov and Alice Munro to explore the depths of multivariant storytelling.
eat.: It’s cold, which means I want to devour everything. This week I’ve fawning over John & Kira’s homemade pistachio and toffee bark and assorted confections, coveting the Sussman Brother’s This is a Cookbook, wanting to devour Homemade Milk Chocolate Cashew Butter, Butternut Squash and Kale Quinoa Stuffing, Pumpkin Spice German Pancakes, Oatmeal Raisin Rolls, Fleur de Sel Caramels, Pear & Almond Chocolate Cake, and the list can GO ON. Also, I feasted on this lovely Coconut Quinoa and Spinach Salad and swooned.
