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This post has been hanging around on my computer for awhile, and I was getting awfully tired of seeing my last post, so I decided to come by and give you all something new!

As I previously mentioned, the Canadian is a big tuna fan. I had made him tuna once before, but it turned out too salty for my taste, so when he begged for tuna a second time, I obliged, but with a different recipe.

This was a second recipe I found on epicurious, here. I don’t like teriyaki sauce, so I subbed a mix of sesame oil and honey. I got nervous about the over-saltiness of the marinade from last time, so I didn’t marinate these for as long… I wish I had, because the tuna itself didn’t take in a lot of the flavor, but my God the mayonnaise was good! I wanted to put it on everything! I used half fromage frais (plain yogurt works) and half mayonnaise, and it was divine. The whole thing was served over wasabi-scallion mashed potatoes. I preferred this by far… much less salty. But it wasn’t quite enough for the Canadian.

He requested tuna dinner a third time, and I asked him which of the two he had preferred, and the answer was the first. I knew that it had been too salty for me, so I mixed it up a little and came up with my own recipe, an amalgamation of the two. As he didn’t love the mayonnaise, I left it out, and I didn’t have time to make the potatoes. The tuna on its own, however, was by far the best of the three: we both agreed.

Seared Tuna

3 tuna steaks
2-3 tablespoons white sesame seeds
2 teaspoons wasabi paste
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon white or cider vinegar
2 cups frozen green beans, thawed
1 tablespoon vegetable oil 

Combine wasabi, sesame oil, honey, soy sauce and vinegar in a large glass dish. Set the tuna in the marinade and allow to sit for 30-40 minutes, turning occasionally. Heat a skillet over medium-high heat and heat the vegetable oil. Coat one edge of each tuna steak in seeds and sear, 1-2 minutes per side. Remove tuna and keep warm. Add green beans to skillet, adding remaining marinade. Cook until heated and serve green beans on the side. (Note: if you have time to make wasabi-scallion mashed potatoes, you should DEFINITELY do that as well, and make more sauce/mayonnaise.)

I got Bill Granger’s coconut bread recipe care of Luisa at the Wednesday Chef, and I have to say, it’s incredible. I’ve had these photos lying around for a really long time… I kind of forgot to post about this, and now that it’s been so long, I don’t really remember the circumstances of it, except that this was amazing and the Canadian and I fought over the last little bit.

All I remember is that I subbed white sugar for superfine, and that I used the same shredded, unsweetened coconut that Luisa did. The way I made it, it’s not terribly coconutty… kind of in the way that zucchini bread doesn’t really taste like zucchini. In my opinion, the dominant taste was the cinnamon (that could be because I added a bit more than I was supposed to… I also added nutmeg and cloves, but I’m into improvising like that.) This would be a good bread to make even for someone who thinks they don’t really like coconut… the only problem being that you sometimes get a strand or two in the bread. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, so I’m going to stop. Coconut bread=good. End of story. Go make it.

Oh, also, if you’re feeling very, very bad, toast a slice of this bread and spread it with some really good, unsalted European butter. It’s divine.

I once got in trouble for using hyperbole with the Canadian. It’s a long story that ends with me going from two cheese graters to none and my mother sending us an industrial-grade steel grater through the Post, but I learned my lesson. No more hyperbole.

Except now. Because I have to tell you: this may be the best soup ever. Which will shock all of you when you realize how simple and cheap it is. But first, a sidebar.
A long, long time ago, I used to live in California. San Francisco, to be exact. When I was in the sixth grade, my parents sat us down in our New York apartment and told us we were moving.

I adored San Francisco. I wanted to stay there for my whole life. In retrospect, I believe I would have been very happy there: I dig the whole Birkenstock thing. Although I would probably be a very different person today. For one, I believe the vegetarian thing would have stuck. But that is another story for another day.

This story involves the fact that, although I loved San Francisco, my parents are New Yorkers, through and through, and somewhere in their minds, I think they always knew that the move to California was temporary. And so, we took advantage of our short time there and really saw San Francisco. We went below Mission Street, we went to Angel Island, to Ghirardelli Square… and to Napa.

Napa was my parents’ favorite place of all. At twelve, I was less than thrilled with the prospect of spending the whole afternoon in the car (my brother was going through a period where he experienced extreme motion sickness. Curvy back roads in Napa? Enough said.) But it was all worth it if I knew we would be going to Tra Vigne.

I may have only been to Tra Vigne two or three times, but it is one of the most vivid meals (or combination of meals, I suppose) in my memory. There was the famous “Tra Vigne Chicken,” which my mother has almost replicated 100% with its distinct blend of spices (the secret is cinnamon, by the way). There was the cheese plate that came on a marble slab at the end of the meal with real honeycomb to go with your cheeses. And then there was my favorite: lentil soup.

I have always had odd tastes, I suppose, but from the moment I tasted that soup, I was hooked. Goat cheese was sprinkled on top and it melted in to mix with the lentils, which had retained the perfect texture. I loved that soup.

I had long since forgotten about it, but as I was going through my pantry, trying to find something to make for dinner, I stumbled upon a can of lentils, and the whole thing came rushing back. I called my mother, who had bought the cookbook years ago, but it was to no avail.

“Michael Chiarello? It’s not even worth it. He leaves out all the key ingredients. The recipe for that chicken? It doesn’t even mention the spice rub.”

Damn. Well… onto the experimentation. Onions, for sure. And potato, I think, for the texture. Lentils… wine (everything’s better with wine… and it is a vineyard recipe.) And then I had a strange thought. Cinnamon had been the secret ingredient in the chicken… was it possible? No. That’s crazy. And yet, I still did it.

I don’t know if I was right. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten that soup… I remember the experience more than the taste. I do know that what I created was astounding. I slurped it up for dinner last night, and even though I was stuffed, I couldn’t help scooping a few last spoonfuls off of the serving I had portioned for tonight.

I am not Michael Chiarello. I am going to share. But you will not believe that it could ever be this simple.

Best Ever Lentil Soup

1 onion, chopped
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 glass red wine
2 new potatoes, diced small
1 can lentils, not drained
1/4-1/2 cup chicken broth
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 oz. goat cheese
Sweat the onions in oil with a bit of salt until they color slightly. Add the wine and scrape all the yummy bits off the bottom of the saucepan. Add the potatoes, lentils, chicken broth and cinnamon. Cook until the potatoes are cooked through and the flavors have melded, about 20 minutes. Turn off the heat and blend slightly with an immersion blender, leaving about half the lentils whole. Stir in more chicken broth if necessary. Serve with goat cheese crumbled on top.

Dear Reader,

I’m sorry for abandoning you. I have no excuse. I could cite the fact that the Canadian has left, once again, this time for Cannes, which has left me with just little ol’ me to cook for. I could say that my aunt was here all last week, discovering Paris for the first time, but every time I look at the list of posts just waiting to be written up and posted, I know: I’m lazy.

But, dear reader, today I had the fortune of creating a recipe so delicious, I had to sit right down and share it with you. Isn’t that exciting?

While my aunt was here, I had roasted a few chickens for an Easter dinner, and so I had a new vat of homemade chicken stock just waiting to be used. So I went through my list of recipes to try and found this recipe for Chickpea, Ginger and Coriander Soup. This soup may have changed my life. Not only is it astoundingly delicious, but I realized how easy it is to make soup for one. Soup had always been a daunting task, one I never attempted for fear that I would never finish it. But this soup makes two neat servings, perfect for lunch for two, or, as I did, dinner two nights in a row with a green salad.

But that doesn’t tell you what’s up with the pink stuff in the bowl, does it? Basically, this soup reminded me of how much I love my immersion blender. I used to use it all the time for tomato sauce, until I realized I liked the chunks of tomato and onion, and so it was abandoned. After using it to make this soup though, I realized I was in love with it. My immersion blender is magical, taking chunks of odd ingredients and bringing them together in harmony in a bowl. (Wow… snap out of it, Emily.)

This soup created itself. I had bought a pre-boiled beet at the farmer’s market, but had yet to use it for a salad. I’m leaving for the weekend, and so I didn’t want to buy other salad ingredients. I also had some new potatoes left over from Easter. What to do… soup? OK, immersion blender, if you say so.

I boiled the potatoes in some chicken stock from my vat, and when they were cooked through, I chunked and added the beet to warm. I seasoned with salt and pepper, and then the immersion blender took the stage.

What appeared was so perfect and pink that I almost didn’t want to add anything else, but I had planned to throw in a pot of yogurt for some calcium, and I’m so glad I did. Some dried chives (use fresh if you have them) and a roquefort garnish finished it off… and I was free to enjoy my perfectly portioned bowl of soup, one for now, and one for later.

So thank you, dear reader, for not losing faith. This soup has given me the will to delve back into my list of posts to write, and very soon, you shall be hearing from me (and my immersion blender) again.

Love,

Emily

Beet-Potato Soup with Roquefort

1 cup chicken broth
5 new potatoes
1 large beet, boiled and peeled
1 4 oz container plain yogurt
1 tbsp. dried chives (or two fresh)
crumbled roquefort
Bring the broth to a boil and add the potatoes, chunking them to help them cook more quickly. Cook until soft. Add the beet, chunked, and cook until heated through. Remove from heat and blend with immersion blender. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add yogurt and chives. Serve in bowls with roquefort crumbled on top.

I haven’t always been as big a fan of eggs as I am now. I remember being forced to eat scrambled eggs as a child and hating them. I liked hard-boiled eggs, but only because my grandmother had one of those fancy hard-boiled egg slicer things, and I liked seeing the egg split into perfectly even slices.

I watched with awe as my father poked the yolks of his poached eggs, but I had no desire to eat the semi-cooked yellow ooze myself. How strange… now it’s my favorite way to eat eggs, fried over potatoes or sometimes some cooked spinach.

I really started liking eggs in high school, when my best friends and I would traipse down to the diner in the town where our boarding school was for the lunch special: five dollars for eggs, potatoes, toast, juice and coffee. I always got mine fried, very soft, so that I could mop up the yolk with the potatoes.

Since then, I have come to terms with the fact that eggs are the only thing that most college students can afford to eat in abundance, and since the Canadian loves fried eggs (he’ll eat five for breakfast), I’ve started buying the flat of thirty eggs at my local market. We even bought some goose eggs once, although they don’t scramble very well: the texture is very different from that of a chicken egg.

After awhile, even the Canadian got a little tired of fried eggs, and so I began inventing things. Omelettes, scrambles… anything to mix up our regular fare. I’ve been meaning to post these for awhile, but now that I’ve waited so long, I may as well give you all the recipes at once. Enjoy!

I don’t really work from recipes as far as eggs are concerned… mostly I use omelettes as a way to get rid of extras in my fridge. I scramble the eggs with milk, plain yogurt, fromage frais, crème fraîche or sour cream (or a combination) depending on what’s in the fridge, and then I move to the ad-ins. I’ll give you some outlines here though…

Mexican Scramble
The first picture is a Mexican scramble. it has salsa, thawed frozen spinach, and a bit of shredded cheese. I seasoned it with salt, pepper, hot chili pepper, coriander and cumin, and I had some Tabasco sauce on the side. I usually don’t make scrambles, but the amount of salsa in this one really makes it difficult to flip… so voila! A scramble.

Chorizo Omelette
The second picture is an omelette with Spanish-style chorizo (that’s the cooked kind), and some cheese… I think I used provolone. Any mild cheese will do… the Sausage packs a kick!

Gorgonzola and Mushroom Omelette
The last picture is an omelette with Gorgonzola cheese and cooked mushrooms. I fried the mushrooms first and then added the eggs and cheese, seasoning with a lot of black pepper.

The goose egg.

Check out other egg-related posts at the Art You Can Eat roundup on Eggs.

I don’t know what possesses me to try new potato gratin recipes. I have a perfectly good recipe that I adore, and now every time I try a new one, I get disappointed. I tried an apple and fontina one at epicurious a few years ago and the same thing happened. It’s not that the dish was bad… the people I made it for loved it. It just wasn’t mine.

Take this recipe for Potato au Gratin with Chanterelles. I had it bookmarked for a long time, and then chanterelles were on sale at my weekly market, so I decided to try it out. The Canadian gobbled it right up, but there was something that just wasn’t right for me.

I’ve decided that instead of messing around with new recipes, what I should be doing is combining recipes I like with things I already know work. I loved the taste of the chanterelles with the potatoes, so next time, I’ll be adding celeriac and chanterelles to my tried and true gratin recipe. Who knows… maybe I’ll even give that sweet potato and apple idea another go. But lesson learned… a favorite is a favorite for a reason.

Me with two margaritas for the price of one. Olé!

When I actually lived in the States, I never craved American food. Ever. My favorite food was Italian, which, as a New Yorker living in an Italian-American family, I could get any day of the week. I had my occasional sushi binge, and I was never one to turn down a bagel, but I never had these incredible cravings that I get now. When I get home, I buy myself a bucket of buffalo wings and go to town on them. I need, need, need an American grilled cheese with Campbell’s tomato soup. But more than anything, what I really, really miss is decent Mexican food.

I like almost everything that passes my lips to be hot, hot, hot. I used to carry a bottle of Tabasco around with me to flavor food that was not hot enough for my liking. When I reheat my mother’s tomato sauce for lunch, I add crushed red pepper. Where the Canadian adds parmesan cheese, I wield cayenne. The French are not so into hot. I knew that if I wanted Mexican done right in the City of Lights, I would have to do it myself.

I started out with a recipe for Chorizo Tacos from Nosheteria. The recipe was sort of an outline, so I didn’t feel bad changing things up a bit: I didn’t have nearly as many mushrooms as were recommended, so I supplemented extra potato, which I chopped into a fine dice instead of grating (my grater had been melted by the Canadian and we had yet to receive our industrial one care of my Mom). I never achieved the melting potato that was outlined in the original recipe, but it did its job of soaking up the grease from the sausage, which was actually a mix of merguez and Spanish-style Chorizo, which is cured, not raw. But even with the changes, the slick-less taco filling that was promised came through.

This and some white fish that I just floured, spiced with salt, pepper and cayenne were the taco fillings. I also made two quesadillas: one with the chorizo mixture and a mixture of shredded emmental and mimolette (this is France here… we don’t have pepper jack and cheddar), and the other with cheese and a combination of red and green spring onions.

But wait… there’s more!

I also made my famous guacamole, which I learned how to make from our Mexican housekeeper, Francesca. Recipe at the end.

All I seem to see nowadays as commentary on recipes for cornbread, chili, lasagna, spanakopita… is critique for the fact that the recipes aren’t authentic. Well, I’m sorry, but sometimes I can’t find real queso fresco or Mexican chorizo. And I’m OK with that. The whole point of cooking is to try new things, to experiment, and having a group of friends over to enjoy some slightly Frenchified Tex-Mex is my idea of an amazing night.

The Canadian’s three-liter bottle of Crown Royal (aka Steve Royal) got into the festivities as well: he’s sporting the sombrero I brought him from Mexico!

Chorizo Tacos (adapted from Nosheteria)

1 large yellow onion, diced
2 links of merguez, removed from casing
6 slices of Spanish Chorizo, diced
1 large potato, diced fine
5 button mushrooms, sliced

Heat a skillet over medium heat. Add the sausage and stir until it releases some yellow grease. Add the onions and stir, cooking until translucent (5 minutes). Add the potato and fry until cooked through. Add the mushrooms, stirring until they are cooked and all traces of oil are absorbed.

Francesca’s Guacamole

2 Hass avocados
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
1 tomato, seeded and chopped
juice of 2 limes
salt to taste
cilantro, chopped, to taste

Halve and remove the pits from the avocados. While still in their shells, use a sharp knife to chunk them (think checkerboard) and then use a spoon to remove the flesh. Mash SLIGHTLY with the tines of a fork. Combine with the other ingredients, except the tomatoes, and allow to sit for at least an hour. Add the tomatoes and combine fifteen minutes before serving.

Just a short post for you guys today. I had gone to Monoprix (kind of like our Wal-Mart) and stocked up on ravioli. I ran out of sauce one night when I wanted to make it, so I invented this recipe. It would work with any kind of ravioli, but we had four-cheese. It’s really quick, too, which is nice for a week night, or a Wednesday for me, when I have class until 9:20.
Baked Ravioli

1 package fresh ravioli
1 red pepper, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons olive oil
a few chunks of parmesan cheese
salt and pepper

Cook the ravioli according to package directions. Place in a large baking dish with the peppers, tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil, and salt and pepper. Toss to combine. Top with chunks of parmesan cheese. Bake at 400 until the tomatoes release their juices and the cheese is melted.

I have made my issue of undercooking things previously known. This problem, I may have also said, stems from a severe fear of overcooking things. Overcompensation… something I should work on.

Anyway, when I found a recipe over at Jaden’s (care of one of her biggest fans, Brilynn) that actually allowed me to cook something for as long as I wanted without any fear of overcooking, it was a dream come true. I made the salmon the evening before we spent the night waiting for the Canadian’s sister in Charles de Gaulle airport.

It came out beautifully cooked, but not the bright color that Jaden got. When, however, I made salmon for the Canadian’s sister later that week, as the Canadian and I were eating tuna, which she does not like, I experimented with turning the oven down 50 degrees. It worked wonderfully! It took a bit more time, but that’s no problem.

Jaden’s recipe is, as she states, more like a set of guidelines than an actual recipe. I’ll link you to her post about it, but the following is what I did.

Slow-Cooked Salmon

1 yellow onion, sliced
1 red onion, sliced
1 scallion, sliced, white and green separated
1 orange, sliced
olive oil
2 tsp. sesame oil
2 salmon fillets
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tsp ground ginger plus extra
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
garlic powder
salt and pepper
one lime

Place the onions and orange (reserve the green parts of the green onion) in the bottom of a baking dish. Toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and ground ginger to taste. Salt and pepper the salmon fillets and place on top of the onions. Evenly distribute the sesame oil on top of the fillets. Add the tsp of ground ginger, the sesame seeds and the brown sugar, evenly dividing between the two fillets. Bake in the oven at 200 degrees for about 35 minutes, or until a paring knife inserted in the center comes out evenly. Squeeze lime juice over the fillets and garnish with green parts of scallions. Serve with extra onions if desired (if you have time, stick them in the oven and crank it up to 450 so they get a bit sweeter. If you don’t the yellow onions still have a bit of a bite).

Note: The steaks were the first time I made, it… the fillet is the Canadian sister’s. For hers, I didn’t have any orange or green or red onion, but she didn’t mind. For hers, I put the lime in with the aromatics.

Wow… after a lot of difficulty, I’ve finally participated in my first Daring Bakers Challenge… and I loved it!

The challenge this month was for French bread. “Perfect,” thinks I, “I live in France!” Plus, I figure it won’t be too difficult, considering that I’ve made bread before.

I made my little baby bread ball, stuck it in the oven with the light on (thanks for the tip!) And let my kitchen steam up with the smell of bread dough.

Of course, it wasn’t nearly as easy as I thought it would be. The shaping at the end, especially, proved to be rather difficult, as is pretty obvious from my pictures. The tip in the recipe about putting a pan of water and ice in the bottom of the oven to create steam worked wonders for the crust, and the taste was good, which is what counts.

In the end, I definitely learned something, and I’m feeling much more confident in my bread-baking skills. Who knows… maybe bread will become a new part of my regular repertoire?

I’m so glad I participated in this, my first challenge! Be sure to check out the other Daring Bakers’ posts as well!