Ruled by the Wind...

...or the sun, or the jet stream, or an off-shore flow, or some crazy ass storm travelling down from the Bering Sea.  While the weather tends to dictate what I eat and how I eat pretty frequently, a day's or night's cravings may or may not be fulfilled.  Or you can say, 'to hell with it!' and throw caution into that Santa Ana wind event that's bound to come rolling around.  

And so again it happened.  I wanted soup, it was the kick-off weekend of fall, after all...and yet...Mother Nature thought it would be amusing to give Southern California yet another few days of hot, sunny, 102 degrees in the shade before finally gracing us with days that were almost crisp, where heading out in the morning, I could wear a jacket and maybe even a scarf!

I was thinking about Italian Wedding Soup when I made this.  I still  want to make a classic wedding soup.  When I was young and dad made it, I usually ignored the escarole and ate as many mini meatballs as I could get my hands on, even before they made it into the soup.  Meatballs would have been in the same danger had I made them on this go-round.  So little meatballs...you're safe for the time being.

Curly Endive and Millet Soup

Easily serves 2-4

1 tbsp olive oil

2 bay leaves

1 clove garlic, minced

1/2 medium onion, minced

4 cups stock, vegetable or chicken

2 cups water

5-6 fresh basil leaves, chiffonaded

1 bouillon cube, optional

1 medium bunch curly endive, washed with leaves torn from stems

1/4 tsp red pepper flakes

1/2 cup millet

1/4 cup Italian dry sausage, sliced thin into quarters, optional

salt and pepper, to taste

In a large stock pot, add the olive oil, bay leaves, garlic, and onion.  Over medium heat, cook the onions until translucent.  When the onions are ready, add the stock, water, bouillon cube, basil, endive, and red pepper flakes.  Stir to combine and let simmer for 5 minutes, allowing red pepper flavor to bloom.  Remove the bay leaves, then add the millet and sausage (if using).  Let soup simmer for 20-25 minutes to let millet cook.  Serve with toasted hearty, crusty bread.

In Search Of

If you're old enough to remember the show that was hosted by Leonard Nimoy,  you're old enough to understand the importance of searching for the unknown, the unexplained, the mysterious.  But what am I in search of?  No, not extraterrestrials, not what happened to Amelia Earhart, not the truth about the Bermuda Triangle.  More pragmatic, more practical, but still mysterious.  It's pizza.  More accurately, perfect homemade pizza dough.  Okay, maybe not perfect.  Maybe pretty damn close?  Can someone lead me in that direction?  It seems like it would be so simple.  A mix of water, salt, flour, oil, yeast.

I try recipe after recipe, not tied down to one formula.  I skimmed Jim Lahey's My Pizza (having made his no-knead bread, I'm behind this man).  I think about the tools I use, the ingredients I have on hand, what I can tweak, what I should tweak, what I accidentally discovered (hello overnight cold rise!), and why I always forget I own a pizza stone.

I haven't tried Jim Lahey's yet.  That's next on the list.  The latest recipe I used was Alice Waters' recipe from The Art of Simple Food.  It's good.  Very good.  Alice's recipe got the overnight cold rise and since the recipe makes enough for two pizzas, the first was traditionally baked in the oven, the second was actually 'baked' in a cast iron skillet on the stovetop.  More like fried, with a touch of olive oil, then after adding some caramelized onion, cheese, and porchetta (Oh, porchetta!), I threw it under a broiler until the cheese melted and the crust charred.

The other recipe is from a book I bought awhile ago called,  The Cook's Encyclopedia of Italian Cooking by Carla Capalbo.  I bought it at the used bookstore around the corner and it's turned out to be a great little find.  Lots of practical, not over the top recipes and in the year or so that I've had it, I refer to it more times than I thought I would.  This version also got the cold rise treatment and was made solely by the cast iron/stovetop/broiler method.  Thanks to a pizza craving when Los Angeles had one of its ugly heatwaves last month, I couldn't wait for the temps to drop to satisy the craving, and that's when I tried the stovetop method.

I loved using my cast iron skillet so much, that I'm throwing cast iron pizza into the regular rotation.  For some reason, it just seems like it takes less effort.  Which, in looking at it objectively, doesn't.  Two steps compared to throwing it on a sheet and slipping it into the oven.  I don't know.  They're both good.

Porchetta and Caramelized Onion Pizza
Dough recipe makes enough for 2 10-inch pizza

Alice Waters' Pizza Dough Recipe

2 tsp dry yeast
1/2 cup lukewarm water
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup rye flour
3 1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
3/4 cup cold water
1/4 cup olive oil

Stir together the yeast and 1/2 cup lukewarm water.  Add the rye flour and 1/4 cup of the ap flour.  Let this sit in a bowl until bubbly, about 1/2 hour.  In another bowl, mix the remaining ap flour with the salt.  After the yeast mixture is foamy, add the flour and salt mix, along with the olive oil and cold water.  Mix dough and turn out onto a floured board, kneading for about 5 minutes until dough is soft and elastic.  If your dough is wet, add a little more flour, tablespoon by tablespoon until the right consistency is met.

Here you can either put the dough in a bowl, covered and let it rise for 2 hours in a warm spot or put the dough in the refrigerator for an overnight rise.  Just remember to take it out a couple of hours before you want to use it.  

Toppings:

6 oz porchetta, sliced paper thin
1/2 cup onion, caramelized
1/2 cup Grana Padano, grated
1/2 cup Asiago, grated
2 tbsp basil, chiffonaded
red pepper oil, for drizzling (optional)


Pre-heat oven to 450 degrees (if baking in the oven).  Stretch dough to roughly 10-12 inches. Sprinkle dough with cheeses and basil.  Spread caramelized onion and porchetta over dough.  On a pan, with a thin layer of coarse cornmeal, place pizza and put in oven.  Bake for 8-12 minutes.  When removed from the oven, sprinkle with the remaining basil and drizzle the oil.  

If you opt for the cast iron skillet method, make the dough big enough to fit into your pan.  Put pan over high heat and add a little oil (about 1 tsp or so).  Add dough and allow to cook, flipping over every few minutes.  Turn on your stove's broiler to its highest setting.  Top dough with porchetta et al and put pan under broiler.  Keeping an eye on the pizza, remove when you see a little char on the crust and porchetta edges look crispy.  

Basic Pizza Dough
From 'The Cook's Encyclopedia of Italian Cooking'
Makes roughly 2 10-inch pizzas

2 1/2 tbsp fresh cake yeast or 1 pkg dry yeast
1 cup lukewarm water
pinch of sugar
1 tsp salt
3-3 1/2 cups all purpose flour

In a bowl, mix the water and yeast.  Stir in the sugar and let stand until yeast dissolves and begins to foam, 5-10 minutes.  Mix in the salt and about a third of the flour, stirring and gradually adding the flour until dough easily pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured board and knead until smooth, about 8-10 minutes.  In a lightly oiled bowl, place the dough inside and cover with a moistened and wrung out dish towel.  Allow to rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 45-50 minutes.  Punch down the dough and knead for a minute or two.  Dough is ready for toppings.  Bake using either method above. 

Notes:  both recipes actually call for unbleached flour.  Obviously, all purpose will work the same.  I tend to have either or on hand, so use what you've got.  As for the rye flour, if you don't have any, swap regular flour for the 1/4 cup called.  I had it on hand and think it adds a subtle touch that you can't quite place your finger on.  Feel free to use whole wheat if you don't have rye.  The second recipe calls for cake yeast.  If you can find it, I highly recommend using it.  It's a hit or miss find for me, so I use the dry yeast.

Golden Goodness

After a lazy Sunday morning of sleeping in until almost 10 a.m, I thought I should be a little productive and go to the farmers market in Encino, since I had missed Saturday's market in Burbank.  While I typically prefer to go first thing in the morning, when the temperatures are still cool and the sun hasn't reached its peak, I wanted to get some produce and thought maybe I could score some bargains since I was going to get there near the end of the day's run and figured the vendors didn't want to haul back what didn't sell earlier.

 I did get a few bargains that day.  I made a lightning quick round through the market, 25 minutes from parking to shopping to back on the road and came away with a huge bouquet of flowers for five bucks, because sometimes you just have to buy yourself flowers, golden beets, daikon radish, lettuce, carrots, leeks, a huge bundle of purple basil, and a bunch of yellow carrots.  Productive.  On the drive home, all I could smell was basil and eucalyptus.  It was blissful.

Pesto was definitely being made.  I've discussed and waxed about pesto on here before (at least four times!), and my feelings have not changed.  I love pesto today just as much as I did when I wrote about it previously.  Though I will tell you that this pesto was some of the best I've made in awhile.  No kidding.   Maybe because I was a little more precise on measurements.  Maybe because the basil was so amazingly fresh.  Maybe because pesto is really just an amazing food.

And what could be more amazing than taking that pesto and pairing it with those yellow carrots?  On that day, not much.  The carrots were perfect for roasting.  I let them roast long enough to leave them with a little, just a little, bite.  Al dente, as it were.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I was eating them out of the baking dish before dinner was even ready.  They were that good.  And bits of the pesto had actually browned and crisped in the oven.  AMAZING!

 I used walnuts instead of pine nuts.  I noticed the last time I made pesto, I had an aftertaste in my mouth.  I honestly didn't think too much about it until I was over a friend's house and she mentioned how she wasn't going to use pine nuts grown in China.  So, thanks to the power of Google, I found a slew of articles and blog posts about pine nuts leaving a metallic taste in people's mouths.  Realizing that's what happened to me, I decided to look for pine nuts grown anywhere but China.  Let me tell you how expensive Italian pine nuts are.  Very.  As much as I want to get some, I'm holding off on spending the money.  By all means, if you don't get the horrendous aftertaste, don't like walnuts, or feel that using anything BUT pine nuts is blasphemous, use them.


Roasted Yellow Carrots with Pesto
Pesto makes about a cup

3 cups basil leaves, purple or otherwise
1 cup walnut pieces
1/2 cups Grana Padano or Parmesan cheese, grated
3 cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper

1 bunch of carrots, yellow or otherwise, tops trimmed, washed and dried
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper


In a large skillet over medium heat, toast the walnut pieces  just until you can smell.  Remove from heat and let cool.  In a food processor, toss in the basil leaves and walnut pieces.  Pulse until the basil and nuts begin to pulverize and combine.  Add the cheese and garlic (you can chop the cloves).  Slowly drizzle in the oil and run the processor on high until everything mixes together.  Give it a taste, adding salt and pepper as you wish.  

For the carrots, pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.  In a shallow baking dish, lay the carrots in and pour olive oil over them.  Make sure all the carrots are evenly covered with oil.  Roast carrots for about 25 minutes, then spread 2-3 tablespoons of pesto on vegetables.  Return to oven for another 5-10 minutes or until fork tines easily pierce carrots.  

New Old Tools of the Trade

Ever since high school, I've been a collector of vintage.  What I collect has changed over the years.  It started with clothing and handbags, scarves, and jewelry. I went through a very long phase of wrought iron candle holders and candelabra.  Then came the kitchen- and dinnerware.  This phase has lasted the longest.  I've started and stopped collections.  Salt and pepper shakers were my first, because they're small.  But seriously, how many sets does one person need?  I've sold most of them, except for the milk glass range set and a 'fancy' silver pair.  Of course, I should apply that thinking to my current 'accidental' collection of pitchers and creamers.  I can't resist the pureness of a white ironstone creamer, or the charm of a bright red cap on a clear glass pitcher.  I love enamelware and glassware.  Anything in aqua makes me weak in the knees.  I have a set of Sasha Brastoff's 'Surf Ballet' in aqua and platinum that I cherish.  That's my 'good' china, the set I would have registered for...if I had been getting married in 1954.  I can see that dinnerware displayed in a blonde Heywood Wakefield hutch, situated in a dining room flooded with light.  Someday.  When I have the house and the hutch.

I love mid-century pieces.  Stainless steel and rosewood serving trays and platters from Denmark.  Pyrex and Fire King casseroles for roasting chicken or baking lasagna.  Silver-trimmed Dorothy Thorpe old fashioned glasses to channel a 'Mad Men' vibe.   And the cookbooks.  Oh, my god...the cookbooks.  This blog has been a thrift shopping bonanza for me.  Know why?  Props!  An interesting plate, an embroidered tablecloth, a glass juicer.  Sometimes I'll be setting up a photo wishing I had a certain colour plate or working in the other direction, I'll be at the thrift store, pick up an item, and imagine it in a future shot.

I try to be practical (justification!).  I look for pieces that I will actually use on a regular basis.  I don't like anything too fine or delicate (hence the pieces of restaurant ware--they take a beating).  So imagine how happy I was when I came across one of my newest finds, an old enameled dutch oven.  Yes, I already had a dutch oven.  All 5-quarts of it are great when I'm making no-knead bread or a large amount of stock.  I wasn't really on the look-out for another one, but when the opportunity arises, well, who am I to say no?  This one...well, she's a looker.  She's a vintage Cousances (bought out by Le Creuset).  Cobalt blue, 18 cm, a little discoloured on the inside from use, but the enamel is still shiny and only a nick or two in the enamel on the rim and one of the handles.  A perfect bargain at $8.00.  A perfect size for me.  A perfect size for making soup.

Maybe I'll share photos of the blog props after I do some rearranging.  Maybe I need to rotate what I have and freshen up the kitchen.  Maybe I need to purge some of the collection.  Or maybe I just need to keep finding things to make in my new old tool.

Pesto Broth with Butternut Squash Ravioli
Serves 2

For the pesto:

4 oz basil
2 cloves garlic, sliced
2/3 cup Parmesan, grated
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper
2/3 cup pine nuts
Olive oil

For the soup:

2 cups vegetable or chicken stock
4 tablespoons pesto
2 cups spinach
4 oz ravioli or other cooked pasta
Parmesan, grated, for topping

To make the pesto, remove any thick stems from basil and throw half the amounts of basil, pine nuts, and cheese in a food processor with the garlic and black pepper.  Pulse a few times to mince the ingredients and pour in some olive oil.  Stop every few pulses to scrape down the sides and mix everything together.  Add the remaining ingredients, pulse repeatedly, slowly adding more oil until it reaches a consistency you're happy with.  

Heat the stock over medium heat.  Add the pesto and whisk to mix in.  Add the spinach and let wilt before adding the pasta. Simmer for 5-8 minutes.  Ladle into soup bowls and top with grated cheese.

Note:  I used a butternut squash ravioli from Trader Joe's.  You'll find it in the refrigerated section.  You could easily use tortellini.  If you want to use a plain pasta, I would use a cut like ditalini.  

Isn't she pretty?

It all started last Summer when Dad sent me that green pitcher. 

Holding onto Summer

You know as well as I do that when Labor Day hits on the first Monday in September, there's a shift in the season.  Despite the fact that the first day of Autumn isn't until September 22, you invariably start packing up the vestiges of Summer.  If you have kids, they go back to school and you begin to pack up the fun.    The days feel less carefree and dusk begins to arrive a few minutes earlier every evening.

But look outside...the weather isn't giving up it's heat, humidity, or beating sun just yet. September can be notoriously hot.  So, while part of you may be thinking about apple pies, hot chocolate on a chilly fall evening, or a whiskey to warm you up on a rainy Saturday afternoon, there's another part of you that doesn't want to let go of the bright, cool tastes of Summer.

The past three weeks of 90+ degree weather here in Los Angeles has made me want to put as little effort as possible into cooking.  I've baked way less than I have in months, and I am happily still in an eating rut of sandwiches where the closest thing to cooked is toasted bread and salads multiple times a day is okay by me.  The fruit bowl on the dining table has been overflowing this Summer:  plums, peaches, nectarines, berries, and melons have abounded.  I've been perfectly content standing over the kitchen sink, biting into a ripe peach, trying to keep the juices away from my shirt.  I'll think about making something more substantial, and find myself grabbing a plum and calling it a meal.

I was able to pick up cantaloupe a few days ago for practically pennies.  I think they were three for a dollar.  Since I can't resist an excellent price, I bought them.  I can easily eat half a melon sprinkled with a little sea salt and be a happy camper, but with three melons in the fridge, I knew I'd have to do something else with them.  After making July's cucumber soup, sometime over the past month I came across a recipe on Pinterest for a chilled cantaloupe soup.

Obviously, it took a few days to get the motivation up to make it.  I cut up the cantaloupe a couple of days ago with every intention of making it within hours...but as I mentioned before...this heat.  It makes me lazy.  It makes me wish I could just lounge by the pool drinking sangria.  (I don't have a pool, but I did have sangria.)

Well...I finally made it.  It was worth the wait.

Cantaloupe Soup
(Adapted from a recipe on Food52.com)
Makes 4-5 cups

2 medium cantaloupe melons, cut up (about 6 cups)
1/4 cup almond milk
Juice of one lemon
Juice of one orange
Juice of one lime
1/4 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced
2 tablespoon jalapeno 
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese

In a blender, add half the cantaloupe and all ingredients except the sour cream and feta.  Blend until pureed and continually add the remaining cantaloupe.  Blend until  no chunks remain.  In a small bowl, mix feta and sour cream  until the consistency of cake frosting. 

Pour soup into bowls and top with a dollop of the feta cream.  You can also serve it as an appetizer in shot glasses (or any small glass).