November 26th, 2012
My affair with puff pastry continues. I first professed my love for the buttery dough when I shared my recipe for this easy Beet and Feta Tart. It was the second time I’d made a tart using puff pastry after this Zucchini Tomato Pesto Tart. Since puff pastry served me well on the bottom, it was time to give it a chance to be on top.
(Is it me, or is this post taking an unexpected turn towards the obscene?)
I made this easy pot pie using leftover Thanksgiving turkey, but you can use roast chicken just as well. If you’re craving pot pie and don’t want to wait until you have leftovers, quick cook chicken thighs specifically for this dish. Poaching is my preferred method: bring water and/or broth to a low boil and add chicken until cooked through. Add washed, roughly chopped carrots, celery, onion and/or whole peppercorns for extra flavor.
November 23rd, 2012
It’s a long holiday weekend, do you have a sitter lined up? If so, here’s the big question: Do you feed your sitter? Do you tell your sitter to help herself to leftovers or expect her to bring her own food? If she’s ordering food for the kids, can your sitter order something for herself, too? Word on the street is that parents discuss these question with each other. The funny thing is that fewer parents than I’d expect bring the conversation up with me… the sitter.
Even though I’m comfortable with the default assumption that it’s my responsibility to feed myself, it’s always nice when parents are clear upfront. I’m happy to bring my own food or to make sure that I have cash on hand to order, but it helps to know in advance if that’s what’s expected. And, hopefully, making it clear to your sitter ahead of time alleviates any awkwardness for you, as well. Clear communication is a win-win. Beyond that, there are no one-size-fits-all answers. Rather, it depends on your time, budget and the kind of relationship you have with your sitter.
Here are a few thoughts for you consider. Hopefully hearing (one) sitter’s point-of-view will help you come up with a plan that works well for you and your caregiver.
November 21st, 2012
How fun is this paper bag turkey?! It’s suggested as a centerpiece for the kids table, but if you’re not down with turkey day age segregation, you can just set it out for the kiddos, maybe as an afternoon nibble to tide them over before dinner?
Get the tutorial at one charming party. It’s so easy and ridiculously cute.
[via design mom]
November 21st, 2012
Friends: A quick reminder to thaw your turkey, the most important thing you’ll do to ensure a successful Thanksgiving meal.
Here are some tips from my friends at Sawkill Farm in Red Hook, NY where I got my turkey this year. Please read because, it turns out, your plan to leave the bird on the counter all day isn’t the best idea.
As long as your bird has thawed by tomorrow morning, the folks at the Butterball Turkey Talk-Line can help you with any other issues. But there won’t be any, right?!
With that, get thawing. Here’s how:
November 20th, 2012
This is how I spend my time. I debated, for longer than I feel comfortable admitting, whether to call this recipe Apple Cider Jello or Apple Cider Gelee. It gets worse: I wanted to call it gelee, but thought you might think I’m a snob. I’m not. Not really, I don’t think. Well, maybe about some things. Shit, I don’t know—I just think jello is weird and sounds, well, junky. But then gelee sounds like I’m putting on airs.
Here’s the deal: When I serve this plain to my kids, it’s jello. When I use it more fashionably, it’s gelee.
Most days this is jello, but this is Thanksgiving week so let’s call it glee, shall we? Let’s agree, here and now. I even want you to pronounce “glee” with a light French accent. Don’t make it too heavy, just brush the word softly with a French touch the way you do when you say Bridget Bardot’s name. Then, once you have that down, make Maple Yogurt Mousse, allow it chill while you make this apple cider gelatin and, once the gelatin is no longer hot to the touch, pour the magic liquid on top of the mousse until it comes up about a half-inch or so. Let the gelee set and serve it as part of your dessert spread on Thursday.
It’s embarrassing how easy this dessert is to make, and all ahead of time. Look at how beautiful:
November 19th, 2012
Can someone please tell me when it became Thanksgiving week?! Is it me, or did it sneak up on us this year?! People, it’s time to get menu planning!
Let’s start by running through the best Thanksgiving recipes that One Hungry Mama has to offer. There’s a lot here, so get ready to dig in.
November 16th, 2012
I know what you’re thinking: of course she loves this salad—it’s served over creamy burrata cheese. (You know, the cheese made by filling globes of fresh mozzarella with luscious cream.) Of course burrata helps, but that’s not what makes this dish so great. This salad, an ombre pile of crunchy greens, stands alone without the burrata.
Brussels sprouts and celery are a bit of an odd couple—one dense and earthy, the other snappy and bright—which is what makes them such a great pair. Think ying and yang rather than Oscar and Felix. They compliment each other so well that (really good) olive oil, fresh lemon juice and sea salt are all you need to dress these unlikely partners.
November 14th, 2012
I’m obsessed with this recipe. I tested it for the first time a little over a week ago—it came out perfectly right away, no surprise since it’s adapted from the talented Aran of Cannelle et Vanille—and I have made it three times since.
The first was to test it as a dessert topped with an apple cider gelee (fancy for apple cider jello), a make-ahead dessert that’s elegant enough for a holiday spread and easy enough for any night of the week. I whipped it up a second time for a brunch with friends. We ate it with cinnamony granola and sliced bananas. Then I made it again for good measure. You know, just to have around. (It even made it into the hungry boy’s school lunch.)
This Maple Yogurt Mousse is dangerously addictive. It’s doesn’t help that it is ridiculously easy to make. And that I can convince myself that any treat made with protein-packed Greek yogurt is healthy. Dangerouuuusss.
November 12th, 2012
Growing up, my dad owned an old-school steak joint where I used to feast on prime rib and french onion soup. Have you ever seen an 8-year-old girl bust in on a busy restaurant kitchen to order her own full-sized prime rib? Lets just say that I was a food force to be reckoned with, even back then.
Something about those early experiences with the rich, umami flavors that mark a good steakhouse left an impression on my palate. One that even 8 years of vegetarianism couldn’t erase. (The day I stopped being vegetarian, I ate roast lamb for dinner!) While I try to eat meat only 3-4 times a week now, I love it. Steak especially. I also love caramelized onions. With my steak especially. But also without, like in this onion dip.
Even though my grandmother cooked all the time and my dad owned restaurants, my family had its fair share of processed food moments. And I accepted them, even took to a few like a fish to water. (May I never be tempted with a box of Froot Loops, may I never be tempted with a box of Froot Loops, may I never be tempted with a box of Froot Loops.) But a packet of soup mix to make onion dip was never one of my vices. No way. The flavor of that stuff never measured up the rich, silky taste of dip made with real caramelized onions, the kind tangled in my favorite soup or served alongside prime rib. I knew that even as an 8-year-old food lover in the making.
November 11th, 2012
The holiday cooking season is here. To celebrate—and to prepare!—I’ve put together a list of 6 essential pieces of cookware. These are my favorite pots and pans, pieces that every kitchen should have. Whether you’ll be cooking a big holiday meal, making edible gifts, or whipping up a few sides to take to a potluck, these pieces will help you make it through the holiday cooking season. And beyond. Way beyond.
November 9th, 2012
The horrible wake of a hurricane.
A presidential election. (An ELECTION!)
Then a snow storm.
It feels like everyone in NYC is a little off balance. At least in my small part of NYC. People are punchy, tired, happy and sad all at once. We’re on a weird energy plane, some frequency in between that’s making us all coco bananas (which is to say cuckoo bananas).
Times like these call for coco banana pancakes (which is to say coconut banana pancakes). For a moment—just one fine moment—these pancakes will tune you into something clear and good. For me it was lying on a beach with a pina colada and a good book.
Okay. I lied about the pina colada. I don’t even like them. But I was trying to keep the coconut thing going.
(See what I mean about being off kilter?! Even this post is weird.)
November 7th, 2012
These aren’t election celebration cupcakes. Not exactly. They are cupcakes that I made nearly a month ago to celebrate the hungry baby’s 3rd birthday. I’ve been wanting to share them with you for a while. I started 2 weeks ago when I told you how to make the homemade maraschino cherries that you’ll need for this recipe. I meant to follow up with the full recipe for Cherry Vanilla Cupcakes just days later, but then everything went topsy turvy. Since then, I haven’t been able to bring myself to write a post about celebrating my son’s birthday or, really, celebrating anything. Until today.
November 5th, 2012
Though it happens, I try not to post photos that I don’t love. I make food, I’m not a photographer. But, still, I had no intention of posting this pic snapped with my iPhone. After all, this was just a quick meal thrown together in our need of comfort. It wasn’t recipe tested three times over. I didn’t try to capture as good a picture as possible. It was just dinner one night.
Though this dish was exactly what we needed, in more ways than one, it wasn’t necessarily going to make its way here. This morning, though, as we returned to our normal routine, something that too many other cannot do today, I thought better of it. This dish, a full meal cozied into a single casserole, is exactly what home cooking is about. It’s easy, healthy, satisfying and something that the whole family can dig into. And, of course, with sweet roasted carrots and bright dill, it’s delicious. It’s just what we need right now. All of us.
November 2nd, 2012
I’ve sat at my computer amidst the chaos of a house filled with six cooped up people several times over the last few days. I’ve wanted to write to you and to share some of the cooking we’ve done while hiding from Sandy and staying clear of those working overtime in her aftermath. But each time I tried to write I got lost. In the news. On Twitter. Searching for ways to help. Working on a Halloween rescue plan. I have tons of recipes to share, but strangely little to say. (Don’t get used to it.) It’s hard to find words when you feel unbelievably lucky and are surrounded by so many who aren’t.
My family and I made it through the storm unscathed. We are safe—stir crazy, but safe. We were together the whole time in a warm, dry home, able to cook, play, watch movies and call loved ones who are also safe, though without electricity. My trusty computer speedily connected to the world each and every time I asked it to, even through the worst of the storm. And we went trick-or-treating last night. See, I told you: we are unbelievably lucky.
Many are not, though. The hungry boy is wondering if he’ll be able to visit his favorite place, Coney Island, this summer. I don’t have an answer. And what about my Jersey shore? These are just two hurt places that just two local people love. What about all the other places and all the other people with hurt hearts, lost homes, and damaged neighborhoods. I don’t have an answer.