Saturday, August 8, 2009

Fresh butter beans with leeks

It's been a while since I last posted, and it had been a while since I last cooked. I really missed my kitchen! But I may post about cooking in an RV sometime...
It's August in Mississippi now, though, and that means certain things are really good at the farmer's market: squash, blueberries, peaches, watermelon, bell peppers, and shelled peas and beans. It's this last one that always gets me as a non-Southerner. They always intrigue me and I never know exactly what to do with them. Often I over- or undercook them or don't season them right and they're just a disappointment. But this time I used two blogs, What's for Lunch, Honey? and Orangette to figure out a pretty darned good recipe for the fresh butter beans I found at the market. I have to call them butter beans, because I have hated lima beans all my life, and I'm not about to stop now. Lima beans are mealy and mushy. Butter beans are tender and a little crunchy--not mealy at all. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Here is the recipe I came up with, more or less:

Fresh Butter Beans with Leeks
Serves about 4

3 leeks, halved, cleaned, sliced thin (white and light green parts only)
2 T. butter
Big pinch salt
about 12 oz. fresh butter beans (probably any of the fresh "shell peas"/beans you can get would work here)
Pepper and maybe some nutmeg
Water
1/2 c. cream (I used evaporated milk, which I think was a mistake)


In a big saucepan or even a deep skillet with a cover, sauté the leeks in the butter with the salt until they are all soft and melted; this will take at least 10 minutes. Add the beans and the pepper and nutmet, stir to coat in the leek-y goodness, and then add enough water to barely cover. Cover and let simmer for about 20 minutes. Taste to see how they're doing. If they're just about done, go ahead and add the cream, turn up the heat, and let the liquid cook down until it's saucy. Then serve this with some corn bread or rice or even a quinoa pilaf, which is what I did. Feel Southern.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Can't stop eating ANZAC biscuits!

This was a total sleeper recipe. I was somewhat reluctant to put it on my recipe list, and not completely enthused when it popped up in my meal planning. It looked stodgy and dry and boring to me. Where was the glamor? Where were the chocolate chips??
But boy, was I wrong! These are nutty, buttery, coconut-y discs of deliciousness with a chewy/crunchy texture that is irresistible. They disappeared quicker than just about anything I bake. The girls walked out of the kitchen carrying stacks of them. I picked at them every time I walked through the kitchen. Fortunately, the recipe doesn't make a lot.
Heidi at 101 Cookbooks also has an ANZAC biscuit recipe, but hers uses more sugar. You can bet that made me feel smug!
The recipe is from the "reader recipe" section of a magazine that Shall Be Unnamed. The reader told about how these biscuits were sent to service members in the Australia-New Zealand forces and how the reader would be sending some to her husband stationed in Iraq. What a perfect Memorial Day recipe!

ANZAC biscuits
Adapted from Alison White's recipe

3/4 c. (3.75 oz.) flour
3/4 c. (5.25 oz.) sugar
1 c. (3 oz.) rolled oats
1 c. (3 oz.) coconut--it should ideally be unsweetened, but I used Angel Flake and it was fine
7 T. (3.5 oz.) unsalted butter
1 T. golden syrup--I used cane syrup, but corn syrup, honey, or maple syrup would probably be fine as well
1/2 t. baking soda
2 T. boiling water
Pinch salt
1/2 t. vanilla


Heat the oven to 350 and line baking sheets with parchment. Mix together the flour, sugar, oats, and coconut; I added a spoonful of wheat germ as well. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter with the syrup. While it is melting, dissolve the baking soda in the boiling water--that's fun! Take the butter off the heat and mix in the baking soda mixture, the salt, and the vanilla. Now mix in the dry ingredients and then drop the dough onto the parchment by rounded teaspoonfuls. Give them space because they spread. Bake for 15-20 minutes (mine only took 12, but my oven tends to run hot) or until deep golden brown and bubbly. Makes about 2 dozen.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Soufflé for dinner? You bet!

My daughter called me the other day and asked, "Can I go out for pizza with my friends? Wait, are you cooking tonight? What are you making?"
"Soufflé."
"What's that?" (I can't believe my daughter doesn't know what a soufflé is!!)
"It's basically eggs and cheese and some vegetables."
"Never mind--I'm coming home!"
Ah, eggs and cheese--music to a teenage vegetarian's ears! Actually, my favorite vegetable delivery method as well.
I was given courage when this recipe popped up for me by a piece on the Splendid Table (I can't seem to find the reference now, sorry) claiming that soufflés weren't all that difficult and could even wait for a bit. So I proceeded fearlessly, and although the soufflé did deflate after a bit, it was still delicious.
The recipe comes from the February 1995 Bon Appétit in a story featuring cheddar cheese. Don't tell them that I used pre-grated sharp cheddar (which is, bizarrely, cheaper than the block stuff at my local grocery store). And it features two of my favorite sleeper vegetables: parsnips (in the original recipe) and kale (because it was wilting in the fridge). The kale adds a nice bitter edge to the very sweet parsnips, so I really recommend some sort of leafy greens in this recipe. If you use something like spinach or Swiss chard, don't add it until the very end of the vegetable cooking time.

Parsnip and Cheddar Soufflé
Adapted from Bon Appétit

Serves about 6

1 lb. parsnips, peeled and sliced about 1/2 inch thick
2-3 cups water
1 bay leaf
Salt
1 bunch kale or other leafy greens, stemmed and coarsely chopped
2 oz. (4 T.) butter
1/4 c. flour
Pepper, nutmeg
6 eggs, separated (put the yolks in a small bowl and the whites in a large mixing bowl)
about 7 oz. grated sharp Cheddar
1/4 t. cream of tartar

Heat the oven to 400--don't use the convection setting. Grease a large soufflé dish. Put the parsnips, the water, the bay leaf, and a good teaspoon of salt in a large pot and set it on high heat to boil. When it comes to a boil, turn the heat to medium-high and set the timer for 15 minutes. You can stem (I usually do this with kitchen shears) and chop the kale now. When the timer has gone down to about 7 minutes left, add the kale. When the time is up, strain at least one cup of the cooking liquid into a glass measuring cup. DON'T FORGET! Drain off the rest of the water and let the vegetables cool down a bit before removing the bay leaf and then puréeing the rest in a food processor or blender.
Now get out a large-ish saucepan and melt the butter in it. Whisk in the flour and perhaps a bit of pepper and nutmeg while you're at it, and then gradually whisk in the vegetable cooking liquid. (If you forgot to save the cooking liquid, I'm sure that vegetable or chicken broth, or even milk, would be fine.) This will make a very thick sauce. Take it off the heat and add the cheese. Stir that until it melts, and then add the vegetable purée. Whisk the egg yolks until they're blended and then add a bit of the hot cheese mixture to that to temper the egg yolks. Then add the yolks back to the cheesy stuff and whisk that well. Set that aside for a bit.
Add the cream of tartar to the egg whites and beat them until they are stiff and glossy. Fold about a third of them into the cheese mixture, then carefully fold the cheese mixture into the whites. I find that a large balloon whisk worked better than a rubber scraper for this. Pour this into the soufflé dish and pop that into the oven and let it do its thing for 45 minutes. Oohh and ahh over its golden puffiness and dig in.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

A Salad Even I Could Love

I have a love-hate thing going with salad. I love salad when someone else makes it; I hate it when I have to make it myself.
My father and my mother-in-law are salad making pros, in their own different ways. My father has been the family salad chef since I can remember. His salads almost always include lettuce (usually the bagged greens), tomato, avocado, some kind of canned bean (though this seems to have fallen out of favor recently), and recently some kind of fruit (a family favorite is persimmon). And always Good Seasons Italian from the packet, made with balsamic vinegar and good olive oil. We had this salad just about every night, and I think he still makes it on a regular basis. Why fool with a good thing? He says he and his wife go through a bag of greens in about two days.
My mother-in-law, a German woman living in France, makes beautiful salads. We almost always begin our meal with salad there. Sometimes it's a simple green salad with onions and herbs and a simple vinaigrette. Sometimes there are tomatoes and cucumbers and olives. Usually for her it's just a matter of seeing what's in the fridge and putting that in the salad. But it's always beautifully arranged on a platter, and because this is France, the produce is almost always flavorful and beautiful. I once ate at Thomas Keller's Bouchon in Las Vegas and ordered the green salad. It was beautifully prepared and presented and tasted just like my mother-in-law's green salad.
But me--meh. Somehow, after I've done all the chopping and mixing and cooking of the day's main dish, I don't want to be bothered with chopping and mixing a salad. Steaming broccoli or roasting asparagus is much easier, in my book. But every month, as part of my random menu planning, I include four (randomly selected, of course) salad recipes and swear to myself that I'm going to get it right. Last night, I got it right and everyone was happy.
It was a Successful Meal in general, last night. We had lamb chops marinated in rosemary, garlic, red pepper flakes, olive oil, and soy sauce and then grilled by Dr. D himself. Budget tip: at Dorignac's, where I go to buy lamb, you could get rib chops for $9.99 a pound, or you could get sirloin lamb chops for $3.99 a pound. Those sirloin babies were tender and flavorful, even though there was some bone-chewing to be done (fortunately, Dr. D enjoys this). OK, we also had mashed potatoes with some cooked kale thrown in because it was in the fridge (call it colcannon if you like, but it's delicious) and also some chives. And I made this salad, which I found in a back issue of Bon Appetit. It's got tomatoes and feta and olives--what's not to like? Bonus: no leftovers!

Romaine Salad with Feta Dressing
Adapted from the September 2001 issue of Bon Appetit
Serves 4 with no leftovers!

2 T. whole milk
1-1/2 T. red wine vinegar
1 T. ( I used half a small lemon) lemon juice
1 large garlic clove, cut in half--you'll use each half for different purposes
1/2 cup olive oil
3 oz. feta, crumbled
2 T. Parmesan
1/2 cup Kalamata or other olives you like, pitted
About 2/3 of a head of romaine, chopped in shreds or torn--however you like it
1 basket of cherry or grape tomatoes, halved

Get out your food processor, blender, or mini-chopper (I used the latter). Put in it the milk, vinegar, lemon juice, and half the garlic clove. Blend/pulse this until the garlic is all chopped up. Then, while the machine is running, add 1/4 cup of the olive oil. Once that's mixed in, add the feta and Parmesan. Taste for salt and pepper--I found this needed little salt but lots of pepper. Consider that you're going to have a strong and salty tapenade on your salad as well as the dressing.
Pour the feta dressing into a bowl and rinse out your machine. Now put in your machine the olives, the other half of the garlic clove, and the rest of the olive oil, and process that until you have a nice paste or tapenade. I made mine kind of semi-chunky--you should go with the texture you like.
Now you're coming down the home stretch! Put your lettuce and tomatoes in your salad bowl and toss them with the feta dressing. Then drizzle it with the tapenade and be prepared for your family to say, "Ewww, what's that?" and then devour the whole thing.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Parmesan Grits

I could either clean the bathroom or blog right now. I'm sure there are other options, but I'm choosing to ignore them. So I'm going to write about grits.
Grits are one of my favorite things about living in the South. Now, as we all learned from My Cousin Vinnie (about 8:30) a self-respecting Southerner never makes instant grits. Well, there must be a lot of self-loathing Southerners around here, because it's difficult to find anything but instant or quick-cooking grits. Fortunately, I was at Dorignac's in the New Orleans suburbs, and they were selling these grits from celebrity chef John Folse. They're the real deal, and they're yummy. Any stone-ground grits would be the same, I imagine.
The recipe I had assigned myself was for parmesan polenta--polenta made with vegetable broth and Parmesan, cooled, sliced, and fried. Well, my husband really despises polenta, so that was out, but he really likes cheese grits. Don't tell him it's just about the same thing! So these Parmesan Grits were born. They were a hit with my husband, my kids, and our dinner guests.

Parmesan Grits

2 T. butter
1/2 cup chopped green garlic, or leeks, or onion...
1 cup stoneground grits
1 cup milk
2 cups water
2 oz. (about 1 cup) grated Parmesan
2 egg whites

Heat the oven to 375 and grease a 2-quart baking dish. Get out a big saucepan and sauté the garlic/allium family veggie in it over medium-high heat until it's soft. Add the grits and stir to coat, then slowly add the milk and water, along with about 1/2 t. salt. Turn the heat down to medium-low and simmer, stirring from time to time, until the grits are nice and thick. This may take up to 20 minutes--think of all the respect you have for yourself, even if you are a Yankee. Stir in the Parmesan until it melts and set the grits aside to cool. Now beat the egg whites until stiff and fold them into the grits--don't be too thorough or they'll all just disintegrate. Bake for about 20-25 minutes or until golden brown and delicious. Serve with grilled steak (like we did) or for brunch, or just with a big spoon.

Tarte a l'oignon

So a couple of weeks ago I see David Lebovitz's recipe for tart crust and I tell myself, "I've got to try this!" As fate would have it, I was scheduled to make Tarte à l'oignon, and so the magic began. A few weeks ago I posted a recipe from my French desserts cookbook; this recipe is from a beat-up old paperback omnibus called Cuisine Sans Souci by Rose Montigny, copyright 1981 and a publication of Cuisine et Vins de France. It's a no-nonsense little book--no pictures, terse instructions--but the recipes tend to be quite good. And it's a fabulous introduction to French food culture--like Joy of Cooking it has a little of everything, including menus, what to cook if you don't have much time, what to cook on a budget, and what to cook for children. As a mom, I find that chapter somewhat hilarious reading. Have an infant of less than a year? How about some Carottes Râpées au Petit-Suisse (grated carrots with creamy cheese) or some Crème à la Fleur d'Oranger (orange flower custard)? If that were my kid, it would be one bite for baby, two bites for Mommy...
But back to the tarte. This was a simple recipe, meant to be a first course. I added a few things and made it a main course. It would be delicious with salad, but I hate making salad, so I put the salad greens in the tarte, and that turned out just fine.

Tarte à l'oignon
Adapted from Cuisine Sans Souci

Tart pastry (see below)
about 1 lb. sliced onions
4 T. butter
about 1-1/2 cups cream or sour cream (the recipe called for crème fraîche, which I can't get here--I used light sour cream)
4 eggs
a handful of grated Cheddar or Gruyère or Parmesan, or a combo--whatever you've got
a handful of crumbled feta
a couple of big handfuls of salad greens or baby spinach
Salt, pepper, fresh grated nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 400. If you're making David's tart pastry, you can put together the butter and all and put it in the oven while it's preheating. I made his pastry with more salt (about 1/2 t.), less sugar (also about 1/2 t.), olive oil, and about 50 grams of whole wheat pastry flour and 100 grams white flour. Loved it! If you want to go more traditional, I belive that Elise at Simply Recipes has a good pâte brisée recipe. You'll want to chill that, though. With David's recipe, you can just forge on. I didn't even pre-bake it--this no-nonsense French cookbook doesn't stand for that :-).
So, while your tart dough is heating and/or cooling, sauté those onions (and maybe a pinch of salt) in the butter. They don't have to caramelize or anything, but cook them down until they're quite soft. Add the greens to wilt and let the mixture cool for a bit while you get the rest ready. Whisk together the eggs, cream, and feta, and add salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste. Sprinkle the "hard cheese" on the tart crust. Put the onions/greens on top of that, and pour the egg mixture over that. If you're using a tart pan with a removable bottom, put it on a cookie or baking sheet, for goodness sake! Then put it in the oven and bake for about 35 minutes. You can serve it hot or warm, and the cookbook suggests drinking a nice Alsatian white with it. Yum!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Minor mistakes

My husband and I hang out with a lot of academics, and one constant lament is, "Why can't negative results get published?" Scientists might spend years working on an experiment just to find that it doesn't work, but they can't publish (and get valuable credit towards tenure/promotion/grants) those negative results. But if those negative results were published, other scientists might be spared that particular blind alley.
All of which is to say that I made a couple of mistakes this week trying to tweak recipes. These were not throw-out-the-whole-thing mistakes, but they were mistakes I nonetheless regretted.
The first was when I went to make the coconut lime cake from Pinch my Salt. I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to use the reverse creaming method for a more tender crumb. For those of you who are not baking geeks, reverse creaming is when you mix together all the dry ingredients, then add the (soft!!) butter and a portion of the wet ingredients, mix that for a couple of minutes, and then dribble in the remaining wet ingredients gradually until everything once again is nice and fluffy. And if you do this with a Cake Bible recipe, or even some of the Cook's Illustrated recipes, it works wonderfully. I've had good luck adapting other recipes with this technique. But this came out gummy, not tender. If I make this cake again, I will follow the instructions!


My next mistake was on the gelatin front. I made the Raspberry Bavarian from Maida Heatter's New Book of Great Desserts, but I needed to make some modifications because of the ingredients I had on hand. First, Maida calls for a 10-oz. box of frozen raspberries in syrup. Well, I'm not sure you can buy those anymore. Can you? So I bought a 12-0z. bag of plain frozen raspberries and thawed them with 1/3 cup of sugar. I think that was not quite enough sugar.

Second, her recipe calls for 1 cup of cream. Well, I usually have a quart container of cream in my fridge, but it was sadly on the empty side yesterday. I had some half and half, though, so I used about 1/4 cup of heavy cream and 3/4 cup of half and half. That was probably also a mistake.

Results? The bavarian tasted a bit flat to me. I think more sugar might have helped. I don't know why I didn't adjust it before I poured it into the mold. Also, the thing didn't gel enough to unmold properly. It was a very unattractive blob on the platter. However, it disappeared before I could think too hard about it. The verdict: Up the sugar, use full-fat cream, and pour into individual serving dishes (wineglasses?) so that you don't have to worry about unmolding.

Here's the recipe--enjoy!

Raspberry Bavarian
Adapted from Maida Heatter, New Book of Great Desserts
Serves 6

1 12-oz. bag frozen raspberries
1/2 c. sugar
3 T. lemon juice
1 envelope plain gelatin
1/4 cup milk
2 egg yolks
1/2 t. vanilla (1 T. or so of kirsch or framboise might also be nice here)
pinch salt
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 cup crushed ice (I pounded some ice in a Ziploc with a rolling pin. Very therapeutic.)

Put the berries, sugar, and lemon juice in a bowl and let them sit until the berries have thawed and given off a lot of juice. Strain the berries (don't push them through the strainer, just let the juice drain off). Put the milk in a small bowl and sprinkle the gelatin over. Let that soften. Pour the berry juice in a small saucepan and bring it to a boil. By that time, the gelatin should have softened--scrape it into the juice and whisk until the gelatin has dissolved. Pour this mixture into your blender, turn up the speed, and let it go for a full minute. It will whip up to a nice pink color. Then add the berries, egg yolk, vanilla (and/or other flavoring), and salt; whiz for another 5 seconds or so. Finally, add the cream and ice and give it another 15-20 seconds on high. Now strain this into a large glass measuring cup or pitcher (this strains unusually fast for a raspberry mixture) and pour the strained mixture into 6 individual bowls/glasses. Chill for at least 4-5 hours. Enjoy by itself, or with some whipped cream and/or fresh raspberries.


Sunday, April 26, 2009

Rescued Recipe: Crêpes Polonaises

I have an odd collection of cookbooks, to say the least. I certainly don’t have 101 cookbooks like Heidi Swanson, but I do have a bookshelf full of them. The thing is, I forbade myself from buying new cookbooks back in the 90s, so my collection is dated. Of course, I occasionally let other people buy me cookbooks (if you’re reading this and want to gift me, I’d love Dorie Greenspan’s Baking from My Home to Yours and Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian), so I do have a few from this century. But I still have Cookbook Rules. I don’t like cookbooks with too many pictures, and I don’t like fussy chef’s cookbooks. I know that so many people love beautiful food photography, but frankly, it intimidates me. It’s like looking at clothes in a catalog—it looks great on the model, but I’m going to look like a sack of potatoes in it. And even though my food tastes great, it’s no model ready for photography. All I need is a list of ingredients and a tempting description, and I’m ready to cook.
So the cookbook that I’m “rescuing” a recipe from today is called Mes Meilleurs Desserts by a certain Anne LeChastenier, printed in 1988. I bought this baby at a cookbook store in Paris in about that year. I didn’t speak much French and asked the lady at the shop for some guidance. She didn’t think much of my French or cooking skills and guided me to this book and another, Cuisine Sans Souci, that I still cook from. These are both simple but not basic books. They assume that you have all the basic cooking skills and just need some ideas to get you through the next meal. If you’re making crêpes, which we are here, they just tell you: “Préparer la pâte et la laisser reposer…Faire sauter les crepes.” (Make the batter and let it rest; cook the crêpes) That’s it. You don’t know how to make crêpes? Go ask Maman.
I’m going to take this approach with you, because I’m not the official crêpe maker in my home. My French husband gets this task, which he does with aplomb. He even gets the first crêpe right. One of the reasons I married him. I see on the Internet that there is a video of Alton Brown making crêpes. If you don’t know how, you might start there.
So here’s the recipe, translated and adapted. We had it for a dinner party and then for breakfast the next day. It’s not mind-blowingly delicious, but we had no trouble polishing it off.

Crêpes Polonaises
Makes about 18 crêpes; would probably serve about 6 for breakfast and about 10 for dessert.

Crêpe batter:
3 eggs
50 g. (1/4 c.) sugar
Pinch salt
1/2 liter (2 c.) milk
300 g. {10.6 oz.; about 2 c.) flour—I used about 1/3 whole wheat pastry flour
25 g. (2 T.) melted butter
More butter for frying the crêpes
More sugar for sprinkling

Filling:
50 g. (about 1/3 c.) raisins—I used golden raisins
a shot glass full of rum
200 g. (7 oz.; a scant cup) fromage blanc (I used homemade ricotta; you could also use cottage cheese that’s been puréed in the food processor for about a minute)
3 T. cream or sour cream (really crème fraîche, but I can’t get that here)
100 g. (1/2 c.) sugar
2 egg yolks
pinch salt
1/2 t. vanilla (not in the recipe, but pretty good anyway)

For the crêpe batter, put the eggs, sugar, salt, and milk in the blender. Blend it for a few seconds, then add the flour and melted butter and give it another few seconds until it’s smooth. Let the batter sit for at least half an hour.
For the filling: Soak the raisins in the rum for at least half an hour. Use a mixer or a food processor to mix the cheese, cream, sugar, egg yolks, salt, and vanilla; fold in the raisins. Chill until the crêpes are ready.
Now it’s time to cook the crêpes. Heat up an 8-inch skillet. Take a stick of butter out of the fridge and unwrap about the bottom fourth. Hold it by the paper and swirl it around the pan to butter it. Now pour in about 1/4 cup of batter and swirl it around the pan. Get out your pancake turner and start scraping at the edges. When you start seeing the bubbles popping at the top of the crêpe, do your best to flip that baby. Give it another 30 seconds and it will be done. Repeat this procedure until you’re out of batter (although the batter will keep for a while in the fridge if you get tired of making crêpes and just want a drink). If your name’s not Sami and you’re not from France, you’ll probably have to make 2-3 crêpes “for the cook” before you get it just right.
Now turn on your broiler. When your crêpes are done, spread each one with a large spoonful of the cheese filling, fold into quarters, and put it on a baking sheet. Sprinkle the crêpes with about a tablespoon of sugar and run them under the broiler for a few minutes until the sugar caramelizes and the crêpes get all crispy. This process also makes me feel better about those raw egg yolks ☺. Enjoy, perhaps with another shot glass full of rum.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Spinach and Red Pepper "Gratin"

I’m not very good about the whole seasonal produce thing. I usually plan my meals well in advance and don’t necessarily think seasonal until I see the price of the non-seasonal vegetables. I feel guilty about this, and so I end up trying to compensate by buying whatever looks decent at the local natural foods market and/or the farmer’s market. What that means is greens, and for us, mostly kale. I’ve grown very fond of kale and throw it into many dishes where it’s not called for—pasta dishes, egg dishes, soups—greens are good for you, right? I sometimes do the same with collards, but they’re quite a bit more assertive and can be bitter.
So when I went to make this dish (the recipe is from a back issue of Bon Appétit), I had a lonesome bunch of kale in the fridge. Also half a package of mushrooms. They both went in, uninvited. I didn’t have the ricotta or Swiss cheese (does anyone call it Swiss cheese anymore?) the recipe called for, either. Not to worry—I had goat cheese and some fancy cheddar that had been on sale at Whole Foods. Results? Yummy!
This dish isn’t really a gratin; you could call it a casserole (very non-threatening), a crustless quiche (sounds healthy), or a frittata. In any case, it’s really good and comes together pretty fast. I like the balance of healthy and artery-clogging qualities. If you cook it, feel free to use the veggies that are looking lonesome in your fridge!

Spinach and Red Pepper Gratin
Adapted from the March 2004 Bon Appétit

Serves 4 as a main dish; maybe 6 as a side.

2 red peppers
1-2 bunches of kale
2 big tubs of spinach (about 10 oz. total)
1 T. butter
2 leeks (white and light green parts only), washed and thin-sliced
4 oz. mushrooms, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
About 1 oz. each good Cheddar, goat cheese, and Parmesan, grated or crumbled
4 eggs
1 c. cream (let me know if a lower-fat substitution worked for you)
Salt, pepper, nutmeg

Roast the peppers the way you like to—I do it in my toaster oven at 400 for about 20 minutes, then let them sweat in a paper bag. While they are roasting, put on a big pot of salted water to boil. Wash the kale well and cut out the stems with scissors. Cut it into 1/2-inch ribbons. Cook the kale in the water for about 6-7 minutes, until it is tender but not mushy. Add the spinach and just stir it around to wilt before you drain it off. You’ll want to dry it well, which means that you could press it in a kitchen towel (which will be green for eternity) or in a potato ricer (very effective, but you have to do it in batches). While the kale is cooking, sauté the leeks and mushrooms in the butter over medium-high heat; season them with a bit of salt and pepper. Mine developed a brown crust on the pan, which I deglazed with vermouth.
Add the garlic and cook a minute longer. Peel and dice the roasted peppers. Now heat the oven to 350 and butter/grease/spray a baking or casserole dish that holds at least 2 quarts. Put all the veggies (the greens, the reds, and the browns) into the dish, and then sprinkle the cheeses over that. Whisk together the eggs and cream, season fairly aggressively with salt, pepper, and nutmeg, and pour that over. Shake the dish (gently) to distribute the egg mixture. Bake the gratin for about 45 minutes—it’ll be golden brown on top, and a knife should come out clean. Serve hot, warm, or room temp.