Luisa Weiss's Blog, page 20

Strolling the Barnes Farmer's Market

Saturday morning, while everyone else in the house was still asleep, Betsy, her daughter Isla and I got dressed and headed out to the market. Betsy and her husband Ian moved to Barnes last year. It looks like the quintessential, peaceful English village with a pond and fuzzy ducklings and everything, but it's a district of London, so it takes no time at all to be in the middle of things if you want to be. Later, when the others had woken up, we left the kids at home with their dad and headed out to go shoe and window shopping on the King's Road. But first, Betsy wanted to show me Barnes. It was a beautiful day, sunny and windswept and clear. The kind of day that made you think there could be no city more beautiful than London.

Now, if there's something I like more than visiting grocery stores in foreign
countries, it's going to farmer's markets in foreign countries. The
Barnes farmer's market is pretty small as markets go, but it's a total
gem. These baby greens reminded me of that stand selling microgreens at the Union Square green market in New York, just by the entrance to the subway.

This butcher's stand was incredible. Check out the size of that piece of beef waiting to be cut into rib-eye steaks! It always seems to me that the English are big on meat-eating, and it's no wonder with such lovely institutions as the Sunday roast lunch and good-looking beef peppering their markets.

But don't worry, there was plenty of produce too. Fat, pink stalks of rhubarb and a sign promising fresh asparagus in a week, plus local apples and juice.

Meat pies always sound like they'll be so delicious, straight out of the pages of an Enid Blyton book or the Chronicles of Narnia or something. Betsy advised us to stay away ("suet!", she whispered ominously), but I'll keep daydreaming about eating them piping hot while sitting at the top of a magical English tree.

Luckily, right next to the butcher's stand, three apron-clad folks were cooking breakfast sandwiches on a hot griddle. There were two kinds of bacon, spitting sausages and thick slices of blood pudding, all made from local pigs. Everything smelled so good. You could ask for your eggs to have a hard yolk or soft (my choice) and choose from a white or wholemeal roll. Plus, there were fried onions to fill out the rest of the sandwich and a long assortment of different condiments: English mustard, chili jam, a finely chopped pickle and more.

We finished the rest of our market stroll munching on the warm, delicious sandwiches and then, on the way home, passed by the pond again so that Isla could jump in some muddy puddles with her little pink wellies and we could throw crumbs to the ducks. When we got home, the rest of the house was up and ready to go.

Friday Link Love

Pardon the delay, dear readers, of my Friday link love, but I couldn't bring myself to post a thing yesterday, not with my heart in my throat at the thought of what was happening in Watertown, just a few minutes down the highway from my father's house. It was all way too close to home yesterday. Way too close to home.

This morning, I'm so proud of the city of Boston, not just the incredible police work that was done, but the courage of regular Bostonians to get through what must have been an absolutely terrifying day. I so fervently hope that Monday's injured make a swift and triumphant recovery now. Oh man, people's bravery just flays my heart open. I can't stop thinking about this guy in particular. (To help the man he saved, who does not have health insurance, donate here: Bucks for Bauman. To donate to the Boston Police Foundation, click here. If you know of other victims who need help, please post them in the comments.)

I flew to London yesterday for a weekend with my three best friends. We'll be celebrating Teri's 40th birthday here and going to what is apparently "the best farmer's market in London!" and eating Indian takeaway if I have anything to say about anything and cuddling Betsy's newborn son and swanning around the Tate and swapping facial care tips (motherhood and age, man) and getting career advice and going shopping together and making life plans and, you know, all the good stuff we wait all year for. Most of all, blessing our lucky stars, too.

Elsewhere,

Reinventing the sandwich (with pickles and herbs!).

A really long, really good interview with Michael Pollan.

Deb finally cracks the Bienenstich code.

The New Yorker gave 40%20Years of Chez Panisse: The Power of Gatheringthe audio edition of this book a great review.

Fuchsia Dunlop makes even simple meals sound irresistible.

And finally, a little interview I did on our Berlin neighborhood.

Have a good weekend, folks - be safe and hug your loved ones, over and over again.

Melissa Clark's Chicken Curry with Sweet Potatoes

Sometimes a recipe so good comes along that it threatens to blow everything else you've ever eaten clean out of the water. Melissa Clark's chicken curry is that recipe.

I don't even know what else to say! That's how good it is.

Okay, here's something: It is a measure of my wifely devotion that after I made it last week, I
actually put some aside for my husband to have when he came home on
Friday night. Forget being the sole caretaker of our child five days a week, 24 hours
a day. Giving up a portion of this delicious-beyond-words curry was the
real sacrifice.

Now, Melissa paired the recipe with a very convincing argument that, when in the mood for chicken,
one should always buy a whole animal and break it down ourselves. And that's usually what I do. But the day I wanted to make this, I passed by
a butcher at the market who happened to be selling whole chicken legs, and since I
like dark meat best anyway, I decided to buy three of those and have
the butcher cut them into two pieces each, drumstick and thigh.

What's important here is that you use bone-in chicken, between six and eight pieces of it. It's also important that you use a real Thai curry paste. I bought Mae%20Ploy Thai Red Curry Paste - 14 ounce per jarMae Ploy and am currently taking suggestions on how to use the rest of it up, please and thank you very much.

For the curry, you make a wonderfully aromatic base, after browning the chicken pieces on both sides, with scallions and ginger and garlic and chiles (I used just one jalapeño and the curry nearly blew Max's head off, so proceed with caution if you want more) and curry paste. Then you chop in a couple sweet potatoes and put the browned chicken on top. In goes a little water and then, once the pot is boiling, you put the whole thing in the oven. Yay! I love recipes like that. Then I get to clean everything up and I don't have to worry about stirring or things boiling over or anything else.

Once the chicken is done, there are really only a few things left to do.

A. You must reduce the sauce until it's creamy and, er, sauce-like. (Removing the chicken and potatoes beforehand so they don't overcook and fall apart.)

B. You must be sure to toast coconut and mustard seeds and not let them burn. Please, whatever you do, DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. (Forgive the yelling, people! It's just that this topping totally completes me and the dish!)

C. You must be sure to have a few wedges of lime around. You must! In a pinch, you may use lemon, I guess. But skip either and YOU MIGHT AS WELL SKIP THE ENTIRE RECIPE! (I'm sorry, I really am. But I'm kind of worked up about this right now?)

D. And you must have some cilantro on hand. (Even if you hate it, like me! You need it here. Promise me?)

Ooh, now's the best part. Pour the reduced sauce over the chicken and potatoes. Then sprinkle the toasted coconut and mustard seed mixture over the serving dish (or, if you have guests, you could have them do this to their own portions). Squeeze lime on top, add the cilantro, and then help yourself and start eating. Just try and see if you can stop at only one serving.

Then, once you've done that, please tell me what words you would use to describe the dish because, honestly, nothing I can come up with seems close to doing it justice right now.

Okay, one last try:

Total perfection!

Best thing I've eaten all year!

HOME RUN!

Melissa Clark's Chicken Curry with Sweet Potatoes
Serves 4

1 (3 1/2-pound) whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
2 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, more as needed
Black pepper, as needed
2 tablespoons peanut, safflower or vegetable oil
1/4 cup finely chopped scallion
1 1/2 inches fresh ginger, peeled and grated (1 1/2 tablespoons)
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 jalapeño chile, seeded and finely chopped
2 tablespoons red curry paste
1 (15.5-ounce) can coconut milk
2 medium sweet potatoes (1 pound), peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch chunks
3/4 cup coconut flakes
1 tablespoon black or brown mustard seeds
Fresh cilantro leaves
Lime wedges

1. Heat oven to 325 degrees. Pat chicken dry with paper towels and season with salt and pepper.

2. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add
oil. Brown chicken pieces, in batches if necessary, until golden all
over, 6 to 8 minutes per batch. Transfer chicken to a plate.

3. Stir scallion, ginger, garlic and chiles into pot
and reduce heat to medium. Cook, stirring, until soft, 1 to 2 minutes.
Stir in curry paste and cook 1 minute. Stir in coconut milk and sweet
potatoes. Arrange chicken pieces on top of potatoes, placing breast meat
on top. Pour in enough water to come halfway up the sides of chicken
(about 1/2 cup). Bring to a boil. Cover pot and transfer to oven. Bake
until chicken is cooked through, about 40 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, in a large dry skillet over medium heat,
toast coconut flakes until golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Add mustard seeds and
toast until they begin to pop, 1 minute more. Transfer to a bowl and
season with a pinch of salt.

5. Transfer chicken and sweet potatoes to a platter.
Return Dutch oven to the stove and simmer over medium-high heat until
cooking liquid has thickened to a saucelike consistency, 5 to 10
minutes. Pour over chicken and potatoes. Sprinkle with the coconut and
mustard seed mixture and cilantro. Serve with lime wedges for squeezing.

A Real German Breakfast

It occurred to me yesterday, while I was putting together a groaning board for our Sunday breakfast with our friends and their two boys, that you might like to see what a real German breakfast is like. After all, German breakfasts are the stuff of legend, at least based on my anecdotal reading of all the times people have mentioned to me their wonder upon experiencing their first German breakfast, whether as exchange students in college or as business travellers or tourists as adults.

The French and Italians are dainty eaters at breakfast. A cornetto dipped in coffee or a split piece of baguette with a café crème are about the norm. After all, the most important meals in those countries are at lunchtime and dinner. But the Germans like to pull out the stops at breakfast (especially weekend breakfasts). Lots of different cheeses, meats, multiple jams and honey, boiled eggs, fruit and vegetables, smoked fish and of course, every kind of roll or hearty, seeded bread your heart could desire.

In preparation for our Sunday breakfast, we went to the market on Saturday afternoon (this one, for a change) and made the rounds of the different stands. We bought a thick block of English cheddar and a piece of ash-covered French goat cheese from the cheesemonger. (On Sunday morning, I added a piece of Comté, a small round of Camembert, and some herbed fresh cheese to the table. The key to a good German breakfast is a feeling of surplus and bounty!)

Then we bought a piece of liverwurst (a must for any breakfast with German children and a special treat for those of us who were once German children (or, you know, Italian-American children growing up in Germany)) and Schlackwurst, a kind of German salami.

For the sweeter-toothed among us, there should be at least a couple of jams on a German breakfast table. (Homemade, of course!) I put out raspberry-mint, quince jelly, and strawberry-rhubarb, with spoons for each jam. That way, people could serve themselves jam with the dedicated spoon and skip putting their dirty knives into the jam jars.

On Sunday morning Max and Hugo went out to fetch fresh rolls and bread. The rolls were still warm when they got home! Max also picked up two Laugenstangen, which are soft pretzel rolls, my favorite multi-seed Vollkornbrot, poppyseed-spangled Hörnchen, and some sweet rolls.

Then, while Max kept the baby occupied, it was time to set the table. I love
this part of having people over - choosing the right tablecloth, folding
the napkins just so, then arranging the food so the spread is
well-balanced and bountiful. I picked a striped, colorful tablecloth
that I bought years ago at a Bellora
sample sale in New York and laid my mismatched French plates that I
bought one by one when I lived in Paris and spent weekends trawling the
flea markets. To fill in the holes on the table, I put out a jar of
yellow honey, a dish of soft, sweet butter, bright stems of candy-like tomatoes, a bowl of cut-up melon, egg cups, some Greek
olives, mugs for tea and a pitcher of cold water. A little vase of
muscari made everything look more spring-like. All that was left, then,
was to put the eggs on to boil and to make tea.

And that's really the most wonderful thing about German breakfasts. There's hardly anything to actually cook. I don't usually think of that as a plus, but on Sundays, when I want to maximize every minute I have with my family, it's actually pretty key.

What do you think, would you ever serve a real German breakfast to your friends?

Friday Link Love

It was a big week here in our household. A gleaming red Kitchenaid mixer moved in and we are all very taken with it (her?). Even the baby gives it long, dreamy stares every time he passes it. I have a lot up my sleeve with this machine that I can't wait to tell you about soon. In the meantime, all my gratitude goes to KitchenAid Germany, the generous sponsors of our red beauty.

We've got no less than two brunches and a date at the Philharmonic planned this weekend. I'm still trying to figure out what to serve on Sunday morning that's breakfast-y, easy to prepare, delicious and kid-friendly. Any suggestions?

Elsewhere,

A Californian version of Bircher Müsli.

Ever wish you could scratch-n-sniff a food magazine?

Cocoa-Roasted Almonds, whoa.

My favorite bagel is the thinking man's bagel.

Oh, to live in LA where fresh flowers line the stoops and adorn pretty bowls of soup.

Peek inside my fridge (and check out my insane artistic talent, huh? HUH?).

How to use up that can of chipotles in adobo sitting in your fridge.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

From The Trenches

It was one of those days. You know, where everything is just a little off? The kind of day where you wake up tired and never seem able to catch up. Where you find yourself clock-watching until bedtime. I hate those days. Feeling exhausted and impatient, then feeling guilty about feeling exhausted and impatient, and generally just wishing that someone else could come be the mommy for the day so that I'd be free to go sit in a dark room somewhere with my eyes closed.

Thank goodness I had a head of broccoli stashed away in the fridge. After I put Hugo to bed, I had just enough juice in me to turn on the oven, cut the broccoli apart and dress it with ground cumin, coriander, some red pepper flakes, salt and olive oil. Like this, but without the shrimp. 20 minutes later, a blissful 20 minutes spent staring slack-jawed at the screen, I had a mess of tender, high-octane broccoli for dinner.

Some days, that's all there is. And it has to be enough.

Spicy Roasted Broccoli with Lemon
Serves 1 for a light dinner

1 medium head of broccoli
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
Flaky salt to taste
Red pepper flakes to taste
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 lemon

1. Heat oven to 425 degrees F. Cut the broccoli into bite-size florets. Toss with the olive oil, salt, red pepper flakes, cumin and coriander. Spread out on a sheet pan and put in the oven for 10 minutes.

2. After 10 minutes, take the pan out and toss the broccoli around. Put the pan back in the oven for 10 additional minutes.

3. Remove the pan from the oven and squeeze the lemon over the broccoli. Toss well and eat immediately.

Lisa Fain's Tex-Mex Meatloaf with Chipotle-Tomato Glaze

There are a few truths that are universal to food blogging: 

1. Shooting in natural light will always result in the best photos.

2. Posts on cake always get the most comments.

3. It is literally impossible to make meatloaf look good.

But not every post around here can be about cake now, can it? We'd all be twenty pounds heavier with really bad teeth. And anyway, we're all smart enough to know that sometimes the homeliest things are the most delicious.

Especially meatloaf.

This meatloaf is particularly wonderful. It comes from Lisa Fain's The%20Homesick%20Texan%20CookbookThe Homesick Texan Cookbook
Serves 6

For the glaze
1 cup crushed canned tomatoes 
1 to 2 canned chipotles in adobo
2 tablespoons lime juice
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
2 cloves garlic
Salt

For the meatloaf:
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 small yellow onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
1/2 pound fresh chorizo, removed from casings (I left this out)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro (I left this out)
2 large eggs
1 cup finely ground tortilla chips, crackers, or breadcrumbs
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (or colatura or Asian fish sauce)
1 teaspoon black pepper
Salt to taste

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a large baking sheet with greased foil.

2. To make the glaze, combine all ingredients except salt in a blender or food processor and puree. Add salt to taste.

3. To make the meat loaf, heat oil in a medium skillet over medium-low
heat. Add the onion and cook uncovered for 5 minutes, stirring
occasionally. Add garlic and salt and cook 30 seconds more.

4. Scrape the onion mixture into a large bowl. Add the remaining ingredients to the bowl and mix thoroughly by hand.

5. Form the meat mixture into a loaf and place on the baking sheet. Spread half the tomato-chipotle glaze on top
of the meatloaf. Place in the oven and bake 50 minutes.

6. Remove from the oven and spread the
remaining glaze on top. Put back in the oven for 10 additional minutes. Remove meatloaf from the oven and let sit 15 minutes. Slice with a
serrated knife and serve. 

Friday Link Love

 

Just me or did this week fly by? We had delicious little bunnies for Easter, made out of Quark-enriched yeast dough and pearl-sugar sprinkled yeast dough with raisins for eyes. I finally got around to reading Not Becoming My Mother, which just about broke my heart. And Hugo, doing his best to grow his hair out like Justin Bieber, discovered the tastiness of his mother's nose. We're going into an extreme cozy zone this weekend, early bedtimes and all (though, ahem, there will also be much blood, guts and incest since we have three more episodes to go in the second season of Game of Thrones hoooo boy I am so obsessed oh my goodness), and I can't wait.

Elsewhere,

Have you ever baked with black cocoa powder? (I'd never even heard of it!)

Tami Taylor loves caviar!

Speaking of breakfast inspiration, this granola includes millet, delicious millet.

Such good ideas for those of us who work from home.

I can't stop looking at these.

5 ingredients, 10 minutes - a master list.

This is spinach pie which has died and gone to heaven.

Wish I could taste this maple syrup.

The perfect poached egg (via Forty-Sixth at Grace)

 

Have a wonderful weekend, folks!

Cooking for Hugo: Baby Breakfast Ideas

Today I'd love to talk about baby breakfasts. The first meal of the day is such an important one and also such a fun one - your baby is (hopefully) well-rested and happy to start the day and probably already has some morning milk in his little belly and therefore isn't freaking out with hunger. The best time to experiment with new foods, I think. But am I alone in sometimes feeling uninspired about what to make?

If it were up to Hugo (and maybe it should be), he'd have a scrambled egg (with a side of avocado) every morning. He loves scrambled eggs. L. O. V. E. Loves them. But I want his diet to be a little more varied, so I change things up every few days: oatmeal, French toast (without any sugar or maple syrup), yogurt and fruit topped with puffed brown rice for texture, even just plain old buttered toast (with dark German rye bread). And if I've got an avocado in the house, I always give him some of that, too.

This past weekend, I made buckwheat pancakes, but Hugo wasn't entirely convinced yet. ("Fine by me!" Max crowed, forking two more onto his plate. He's our resident buckwheat pancake fiend.)

Yesterday, facing a bunch of blackening bananas, I decided to make these muffins, leaving out the brown sugar and swapping in applesauce for the butter. I gave one to Hugo in the morning, who grabbed it with glee and then proceeded to shred it to bits, strewing it dramatically around his highchair. I'm not sure that he actually even tasted any of it.

Weirdly, I feel like the internet doesn't offer up much in the way of baby breakfast inspiration. So I'm turning to you, dear readers, who always have the best answers. What are your favorite baby breakfast ideas? What did or does your baby love to start the day off with the most? What do your many cultures feed babies for breakfast? I can't wait to hear.

Scrambled Eggs:

1 large egg
1 small splash of milk
1 teaspoon unsalted butter

Whisk together the egg and the milk. Melt the butter in a small, nonstick pan over medium heat. Pour the egg in and, using a plastic spatula, stir the egg until cooked through. Chop into small pieces and serve. 

Yogurt, Fruit and Rice Parfait:

Few spoonfuls of plain, whole-milk yogurt
Few spoonfuls of puréed fruit and/or chopped fresh fruit
Few spoonfuls puffed brown rice

Layer all the ingredients in a bowl and serve.

French Toast:

1 large egg
1 small splash milk
1-2 slices sandwich bread (white or whole-grain)
1 teaspoon unsalted butter
Puréed fruit for serving, optional

1. Whisk together the egg and milk in a shallow bowl. Put the bread slices in the bowl and turn a few times, letting them soak up all the egg.

2. Melt the butter in a small, nonstick pan over medium heat. Slide the bread slices into the pan and cook until puffed and golden brown on both sides. Put on a plate, cut off the crusts, cut into bite-sized pieces and serve plain or with some puréed fruit for dipping.

Yotam Ottolenghi's Crisp Couscous and Saffron Cakes

I always forget about couscous. It's such a good thing to have around and yet, I don't know, I feel like I overdosed on those Near East packages in college and then I owned a few Paula Wolfert books on Moroccan cooking and was ashamed to have ever even thought about instant couscous, let alone eaten it, and then I moved back to Berlin, where couscous is still relatively exotic, and so I end up using far more rice and millet and quinoa and bulgur than I ever do couscous. Which is too bad, because couscous is good! And after all this time, it feels fresh and delicious all over again.

Last weekend, I served it with a Moroccan vegetable stew and then this weekend, after seeing this article by Yotam Ottolenghi and deciding 30 nanoseconds later that that was how I was going to use up the box of couscous I had in the pantry, I made saffron-flavored, feta-and-raisin-stuffed, mint-flecked couscous cakes. Yes, they were just as good as they sounded, better even. And, well, the moral of this story is that I'll never go couscous-less again.

It's silly how easy these cakelets are. All you do is pour boiling water over some saffron and couscous and while the water is plumping the couscous, you gather everything else: feta, some eggs, some sliced chives or mint (I used mint), yogurt. And then, if you're lucky enough to have barberries, you soak them in a sugar syrup to soften their sour bite. If you don't have barberries, you can use currants soaked in lemon juice - I used raisins and they were just fine. You mix all of these lovely little things into the saffron couscous until it's a thick and creamy homogenous mass. Then you portion out little rounds and fry them up - I used olive oil in a nonstick pan, the original recipe calls for butter.

I slid each batch of cakes onto a plate as they finished and we ate them piping hot and then fried more and ate more and fried more and so on. They were so good, so crisp and soft at once, with little sweet-salty pockets of cheese and raisins and the haunting flavor of mint and saffron giving them a sophisticated edge. Afterwards, Max asked me very solemnly to make them again. Each week. He never, ever does that.

By the way, I experimented in flattening some of the cakes with the spatula, but I would advise
you to leave the cakes plump - flattening them takes away some of their
deliciousness, if you can believe it, and the ratio of crisp to soft gets thrown off balance.

Yotam Ottolenghi tells you to eat these with a tomato chutney, which sounds like it'd be lovely. We were too hungry to do anything but pop them in our mouths just as they were, but Max ate the leftovers later with some incendiary Mexican hot sauce and declared them delicious. So, do as you like: sauce them or don't, just make sure you make these. They'll be a staple at your table in no time, too, I'm sure.

(Warning: the recipe below is in metric. It was originally published in an English newspaper. If you don't already own a kitchen scale (Salter is a great brand, for example), please consider adding one to your arsenal.)

Yotam Ottolenghi's Crisp Couscous and Saffron Cakes
Makes about 20 patties
Note: If you can't find barberries, substitute currants or raisins and soak them in lemon juice instead of the sugar syrup.

½ teaspoon saffron threads
275 grams couscous
30 grams barberries
4 tablespoons sugar
1 lemon (only if using currants or raisins instead of barberries)
140 grams plain whole milk yogurt
2 large eggs, lightly beaten

A handful fresh chives or fresh mint, chopped
100 grams feta, crumbled into small pieces
Salt and black pepper
About 4 tablespoons clarified butter or olive oil

1. Put
the saffron in a large bowl and pour over 500 milliliters of boiling water. Leave
to infuse for a few minutes, then add the couscous. Stir with a fork,
cover the bowl with a dishtowel and let stand for 15 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, if using the barberries, put them and the sugar in a small saucepan. Add 120 milliliters of water,
bring to a light simmer, stir to dissolve the sugar and remove from the
heat. Once cool, drain the barberries and dry on kitchen paper. If using currants or raisins (see Note), put them in a bowl and cover them with the juice of one lemon.

3. Fluff
up the couscous with a fork, then add the yogurt, eggs, chives or mint, feta,
barberries or currants, and salt and pepper to taste.
Mix well and then shape into approximately 20 firm round patties about 1.5 centimeters (1 inch) thick.

4. Heat two tablespoons of clarified butter or oil in a large
frying pan on medium-high heat. Lower the heat to medium and fry the
patties in batches, adding more butter or oil as needed. Cook each batch for
five minutes, turning once, until crisp and golden-brown. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towel. Serve at once, while they're still warm.