Monthly Archive for January, 2011

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Cold Sesame Noodles

Published on January 21, 2011 in Asian and pasta. 3 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

Back in the early 90s, after breaking up with a particularly unsuitable boyfriend (actor/bartender/alcoholic — quite the rollicking combo), my bestie best friend and college roommate, Janice, and I moved into a crappy walk-up on West 15th Street. Our place became a bit of a crash pad for friends and family returning home from traveling and/or looking for somewhere to pass out. Janice’s brother-in-law, Paul, stayed with us for quite awhile while his lovely wife Julie gallivanted around Southeast Asia (he’d taken a leave from his job and had to return; she’d smartly resigned from hers).

We had a decent kitchen and did cook quite a bit, but we also enjoyed many evenings of take-out. It’s New York. That’s what you do. And we became obsessed with these cold sesame noodles. Not just any cold sesame noodles, though; they had to be the cold sesame noodles from Empire Szechuan. And not from just ANY of the 132 or so Empire Szechuans plopped around the island of Manhattan. No, they had to be from the Empire Szechuan on Bleecker Street. I never figured out if Empire Szechuan was a chain, but I don’t think so because we sampled other Empire Szechuan cold sesame noodle offerings and they always came up short. (And don’t be fooled by the identical name; you’ve heard of the whole Ray’s Pizza brouhaha, no?)

But I digress. These cold sesame noodles were that perfect combination of sweet, sour and hot, and I loved how the cool slippery noodles combined with the crunchy cucumber and nice little bite from the scallions. Perfection.

The day our Empire Szechuan closed was a very sad day indeed. Our brief high hopes of the promised “renovation” were dashed by continued lack of any sort of actual renovation taking place. And then, the kicker, the nail in the coffin: a CVS moved in. And that was the end of the infamous cold sesame noodles.

I’ve thought a lot about those noodles. I’ve tried a lot of Empire Szechuans. It’s just not the same. But these are pretty close. RIP Empire Szechuan on Bleecker Street. RIP early 90s. Long live cold sesame noodles!

Cold Sesame Noodles

NOTE: Play around with the garnishes. Shredded carrots, julienned red peppers or cabbage are all nice additions. I’ve also sautéed some firm tofu cubes in sesame oil for a protein boost. But in a purist Empire Szechuan world, it’s really all about the cucumbers and scallions. Those are required.

Sauce:
1/2 cup peanut butter (creamy or chunky)
3 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
1-1/2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1-2 garlic cloves, pressed
2 teaspoons grated peeled fresh ginger (keep it in the freezer; it’s much easier to grate)
Hot red pepper flakes or a big squirt of Sriracha (optional and to taste)
1/3-1/2 cup pasta water or vegetable stock

1 pound thin spaghetti

Garnishes:
3 chopped scallions
1/2-3/4 seedless cucumber, cut into matchsticks
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
1 tablespoon sesame seeds, toasted (optional)

Boil the spaghetti according to instructions. While that’s cooking, combine the sauce ingredients in a heavy saucepan and cook over low heat until sugar melts (you can also do this in a heatproof bowl in the microwave, but then your brain will be scrambled. Kidding!). Add some pasta cooking water or stock a bit at a time to thin out the sauce. You want the sauce to be thick enough to coat the noodles, but not gloppy.

Drain the spaghetti and rinse with cold water. Pour the sauce over the pasta and add the garnishes (reserve a bit of each to top the dish), stirring gently to combine.

Observe a moment of silence for Empire Szechuan on Bleecker and dig in. They are meant to be served cold or at room temperature (with a bit of time for the flavors to come together with the noodles), but no one cares if you just chow down immediately.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Published on January 17, 2011 in Soups + Stews. 0 Comments Tags: , , .

It’s soup weather. And I feel like I’ve been saying that for a million years. It’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? I mean, it’s only January, it’s supposed to get down to 9º tonight, we’ve got another two months of winter and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

OK, let’s look at the bright side. I really love soup. And soup is a cold-weather food. It’s THE cold-weather food. Usually one-pot. Mostly pretty easy. And just beyond comforting. So, let’s embrace the chill and get down to making some hearty, belly-warming, toasty-feeling soup, shall we?

And this is a good one because it’s really pretty healthy, but it tastes like it’s not. Yes, I know there’s cheese in there, but there’s not a ton and you can make it even healthier (if you so choose) by using olive oil instead of butter and less cheese (but please don’t use low-fat cheese — it’s just wrong). I also like to leave a few chunks of broccoli in the soup; it feels more substantial that way. And I really like the addition of the mustard. It gives it a little zing without being all in-your-face spicy. You can doll it up too — toss some homemade croutons on there, try a drizzle of olive oil or even a dollop of Greek yogurt. But this is a soup that you can just eat right out of the pot. With a spoon. Sprinkling bits of cheese on each bite as you go. Not that I did that or anything.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Adapted from 101 Cookbooks

2 tablespoons unsalted butter or olive oil (or 1 of each)
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large potato, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch cubes (1 1/2 cups)
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 quart/~1 liter low-sodium vegetable broth
1 pound broccoli, stems roughly chopped and florets cut into bite-sized pieces
2/3-1 cup sharp Cheddar, grated (reserve a bit for garnish)
1 – 3 teaspoons Dijon mustard (optional)
Half & half (optional)
Black pepper
Salt

In a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the onion and sauté for 5 minutes or until translucent. Add the potatoes and cook, covered, for about 3-4 minutes until they’re almost cooked through (test it with a fork). Add the garlic and broccoli stems and cook for a minute, then add the stock and bring to a boil. Once the potatoes are soft, add the florets and cook just until tender (about 2-4 minutes).

Blend in the pot with an immersion blender or transfer the soup to a blender in batches (and make sure to leave space in the blender and take the inside of the lid off and cover with a towel…or just wait for it to cool, which I did because I had to go pick up the kid from school). Leave some of the chunks in the soup pot. Add the cheese, mustard, pepper and salt to taste. At this point, you can thin the soup if need be with a little half & half (or more stock if you’re being all virtuous).

Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread

Published on January 12, 2011 in Breads + Muffins. 0 Comments Tags: , .


I know, I know, I’m late to the party. But my excuse is that I couldn’t find instant yeast in Argentina (and almost couldn’t find it in the US either, as Whole Foods was out for about a month! Shocking. And I thought America was the land of plenty). And I didn’t have a blog in 2006. So there. Anyway, I’m here now and ready to party.

I have to say that I’m a bit of a lazy bones when it comes to actually kneading dough, so I usually end up using my bread machine. But in this case, you don’t have to knead the bread, so that’s a bonus. The only thing is this recipe requires foresight, something I’m, ahem, working on. Hey, I don’t like to be tied down, okay? And I’m sort of fond of instant gratification, which, I’m discovering, is not really possible when things like yeast are involved.

And another thing: while this may be a no-knead bread recipe, it’s not a you-really-don’t-have-to-do-anything recipe. Because you do. There’s some manhandling of dough going on, as well as flouring of things and general waiting/rising periods. So, it’s not like you don’t have to be around for a decent chunk of time. But seeing as how I attempted this just after a major snowstorm (aka Snowmaggedon) hit the East coast, I was pretty much homebound anyway. And there’s really nothing like the smell of baking bread.

But just so you know, I’ve revised the name of this bread to “Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread.”

All kvetching aside, this bread is pretty f@#cking amazing (excuse my ampersand, but I just can’t come up with another word that encapsulates my awe). The outside is super crunchy and the inside is light, almost smooth or slippery in texture. I can’t even really describe it, but I will say it’s the best-textured bread I’ve ever made. And now that I’ve done it, I can see myself making this bread all. the. time. (or at least every 20+ hours or so).

OK, really now. Let’s DO this (Leroy Jenkins)!

NOTE: The dough was really sticky for me, so I had to use a lot more flour for the dusting and folding part than the recipe calls for (which is “a little”). And it was really gooey. I’m not sure if that’s because I used whole wheat flour or I didn’t wait the full 18 hours, but the bread still came out okay. It was just really messy (see: aforementioned name change).

Jim Lahey’s No-Knead-But-Some-Work Bread

from the NY Times

Makes one 1½-pound loaf

3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting (I used whole-wheat bread flour)
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1¼ teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran (if you’re not using flour for the towel-dusting)

In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water (which doesn’t have to be warm, btw), and stir until blended. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it rest somewhere warm for a minimum of 12, but preferably more like 18 hours (it should be around 70ºF or so, like a corner of your kitchen counter vs. the window sill in our bedroom which has actual ice and snow encrusted on it ON THE INSIDE. Did I mention it’s 85º in Buenos Aires right now?). It’s ready when the surface is pockmarked with bubbles. In my case, I made the dough at 5:00 pm and moved onto the next step at about 9:30 the next morning, so that’s 16.5 hours.

Scoop the dough out of the bowl and onto a floured board; sprinkle the dough with more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.

Using flour to prevent sticking, shape the dough into a ball (mine was more like a blob than an actual ball). Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal, making sure to make a bigger circle than what you’re starting out with because it’s going to spread out. Put the dough seam side down on the towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it’s ready, the dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger (i.e., the hole will stay there for a bit).

At least a half-hour before the dough is ready, heat your oven to 450ºF/232ºC and put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic all work) in the oven as it heats up. [Note: I used a Le Creuset enamel pan and was out walking the dog and forgot, so I only heated the pan for about 10 minutes. Again, not an issue.]

When dough is ready, remove the pot from oven and be careful because that sucker is hot (even with only 10 minutes of preheating). Slide your hand under towel and flip the dough over into pot, seam side up (I didn’t really have a seam; as I mentioned before, mine was more of a blob than a ball). If needed, shake the pan a bit to settle the dough evenly into the pan; it will straighten out as it bakes.

Bake 30 minutes covered, then remove the lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until your loaf is beautifully browned (mine only needed 15 minutes).

Slide out of the pan onto a rack and let it cool a bit before devouring.

Comfort Food

Published on January 10, 2011 in Basics. 0 Comments

Hello friends. I must apologize for my absence. I have had a whopper of a cold for the last couple weeks and am just finally coming out of it. Holidays + Airplane Travel + Child in Daycare = ILL to the izzle. Or something.

And because I haven’t been breathing properly and really can’t smell or taste anything, food and cooking has kind of taken a back seat. Gads. More shocking words have ne’er exited these lips before. But it’s true. I’ve been eating things like this:

Now, let’s get one thing straight. This is not one of those highfalutin’ blogs that talks about reductions and infusions and other terms that sound like some type of weight-loss program (cause we’re DEFINITELY not about that). We (the universal “we,” that is) are about food that makes you happy; food that doesn’t require wacky equipment and impossible-to-find ingredients; food that is good and not too complicated. Comfort food. Yes, I suppose that’s what it is.

And this is one of my go-to comfort food meals. When I’m feeling particularly unwell, suffering from self-pity or even just feeling ever so slightly maudlin, I go straight for the grilled cheese/tomato soup/Fritos combo. And like so many of my favorite foods, it’s a meal that comes from my childhood. I must’ve been about 6 or 7 when I first had it for lunch at my best friend’s house, so I guess my association with it is one of youth, happiness and basically not having a care in the world. You know those days of playing in the snow until you can’t feel your face and then still not wanting to come indoors? But then when we finally did succumb…I remember the warm mudroom smelling of fresh laundry, a 20-pound cat named Putter and a deceptively simple little trifecta of soup-sammy-chip perfection. It was hot, creamy, gooey, crunchy and greasy all rolled into one, and damn it, I loved it.

I must admit when I took a look at the Campbell’s tomato soup can label, I almost keeled over (high fructose corn syrup, anyone?), but the healthy Whole Foods substitute just wasn’t cutting it. I needed high fructose corn syrup at that particular moment and I’m not ashamed to admit it. And milk. You must make the soup with milk — not water. This is comfort, people. Not prison. And salt. Lots of salt, seeing as how I can’t really taste anything. The soup must be served piping hot, the cheese melty and gooey and the Fritos must be Fritos (no generic substitutes allowed).

So, now you know. My little weakness — as if there is only one. Trust me. There are lots more. But now I’d like you to ‘fess up. What’s your go-to comfort food? Is there just one? Different ones for different comfort needs/levels? Is it a combination of food together that really does it for you? Do tell, readers. Your secrets are safe with me.