Pinja Challenge: What Are You Cooking?

I made that...and those...and these...

I was just perusing my In The Kitchen Pinterest board and realized... I've made quiet a bit of 'em. The tequila-soaked watermelon dipped in coarse salt? Yum. How about that cherry tomato pie in a sharp cheddar crust? Oh yeah. And the tortilla pizzas were my very own creation. Which I then introduced to Pinterest.

Pinterest is a great way to collect recipes (no, they're not paying me). I like to open my recipe board just before I go grocery shopping and see what fun thing should be on the menu.

Do you use Pinterest? What are some of your Pinning tactics? Do share, I'm always up for inspiration.

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Breaking: Husband Asks for More Quinoa

Roasted sweet potato rounds topped with goat cheese. Like a little sweet potato pie.

I'd like to dedicate this post to my husband Ryan. Not only is he unbelievably handsome, muscular, smart, and charming; the man doesn't put up (much) of a fuss when I cook something a little... out of the ordinary.

In the last few years, as I've been mostly vegetarian, people often ask, "What about your husband?" in a kind of old-fashioned, but-your-husband-must-NEED-meat kind of way. "Does he eat vegetarian at home? Isn't he hungry all the time? Doesn't he insist you cook steak for him?"

Perhaps in some alternate universe, I married a man who demanded I cook certain things for him. But happily, in my actual universe, my husband is grateful for healthy, homemade food, and occasionally requests chocolate chip cookies and coconut cream pie. He tells me how much he appreciates me cooking for him, and gives honest feedback when a recipe is—or isn't—up to snuff.

So as I was putting together last night's menu, I wondered what Ryan's reaction would be. My last quinoa experiment was decidedly not delicious, and it was one of the very few times he wrinkled his nose and reached for the peanut butter and jelly. And here I was, making quinoa again. He inquired about the menu.

"Well, I'm making those roasted sweet potatoes that are so good," I began, trying to sell him on the idea.

"What else?"

Deep breath. It's game time. "Oh, this dish with quinoa and chevre and kale. Should be great." I'm no salesperson, though; my tactics were decidedly weak.

"Is it cous-cous that I like, or quinoa?"

"Um, actually, I'm pretty sure it's both. You like them both." Nice one, Amber, he's definitely going to believe that line.

It wasn't until we sat down to eat ("But wait! I have to take photos first!") that the proof showed up in the pudding. I think we were both pleasantly surprised; the quinoa was flavorful, fluffy, and the kale was bright—flavors enhanced by fresh lemon, goat cheese, and a slight bit of balsamic-laced caramelized onion.

I grinned as he reached for the bowl. "Mind if I have some more?"

So, here's to my husband Ryan: My soulmate, with whom I eat, drink, and am exuberantly merry.




Quinoa and Kale with Goat Cheese
adapted from Food 52

1 cup quinoa, rinsed thoroughly
2 cups water or vegetable broth
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
4 cups chopped fresh kale
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1/3 cup goat cheese, crumbled
salt and pepper to taste

Rinse the quinoa very well to remove its natural bitter coating (here's a great primer on quinoa!). Heat one tablespoon of the olive oil in a pot over medium heat. After about 20 seconds, add the quinoa and chopped onions. Saute until the quinoa and onions are golden, about five minutes (the onions will be almost translucent).

Add the broth or water and bring to a boil. Simmer for ten minutes. Add the kale, cover with a lid, and simmer for five more minutes. Check the quinoa; the water should be evaporated and the quinoa cooked but still al dente. Cover, remove from the heat, and let steam for about five more minutes.

In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and goat cheese. Pour in the kale and quinoa and toss to coat.

Serve with a side of simple roasted sweet potato medallions! Adapted from Smitten Kitchen.

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Quick Pickled Peppers

Peppers grow fast—and produce plenty. But I don't cook with them fresh very often. Instead, I've made jar after jar of super quick and easy pickled peppers this summer.

Quick Pickled Peppers

For the Brine:

4 cups water

2 cups white vinegar

1/2 cup non-iodized salt

Stir all ingredients together in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Once the salt has dissolved, remove the brine from the heat and set aside. 

To fill four pint-sized jars, slice approximately one pound of jalapeno or banana peppers. Fill the clean jars with the sliced peppers. If you'd like, throw in a clove of garlic with the jalapenos for a little extra flavor.

Carefully cover the sliced peppers with brine, leaving about 1/2 inch headspace at the top of the jar. Top jars with lids, and store in the refrigerator for up to a month. The pickled peppers will have their best flavor after about one week in the fridge.

The whole process, from harvest to fridge, will take about twenty minutes!

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In Praise of the Simple Meal

I get it.

It's hot. You're tired. Cooking is the last thing you want to do. You're tired of takeout. Making a decision seems more difficult than cooking.

That's why we all deserve the simple meal.

Imagine it's a picnic, or a spread of hors d'oeuvres, and voila! Dinner. And it can be healthy, too.

This particular night, we enjoyed simple kale chips (I've gotten to where I actually pop them in the oven before it's even finished preheating, further simplifying and speeding up the process) and store-bought hummus. Goat cheese with a dollop of balsamic onion reduction and slices of day-old baguette. Crudite. Rose wine.

A magnificent meal that nourished us, pleased the palette, and could not have been simpler.

Earlier this week we had a similar meal with home-grown bruschetta; tomatoes, basil, garlic, and olive oil mixed together to top toasted slices of baguette.

What do you make when you can't bear to cook?

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Always Eating: Healthy Snacks

My colleagues have grown accustomed to seeing me eat at my desk*. Not just lunch, mind you; no, I'm one of those folks who seemingly eats all day long. Not unlike Brad Pitt's character in all of the Ocean movies. Oh yeah, I went there.

In the mornings, I pride my ability to stave off any hunger attacks with a glass of ice water or a cup of hot tea. And perhaps a rice cake smothered in peanut butter. I watch the clock, so that I can eat lunch promptly at noon, and follow it closely with a pseudo-snack that normally involves plain Greek yogurt dressed up with chia seeds and a teaspoon of lemon curd, mixed with a touch of honey, and topped with fresh berries. (It's delicious and you, too, should give it a try.)

Then there's the apple and peanut butter I eat, every single solitary weekday without fail, at four o'clock, followed closely by my pre-dinner snack of a few crackers and fresh salsa or cheese when I get home around six. By then, I'm cooking dinner (snacking on the chopped veggies and grated cheese and maybe I've been known to gnaw on an uncooked angel hair noodle once or twice). We eat dinner, and then when it's time to settle down with a movie or the latest New Yorker (I read it for the cartoons, let's be honest), I never, ever turn down stovetop popcorn.

I was never specifically taught to subscribe to the "eat six small meals a day" plan, but it kind of shakes out that way. I eat when I'm hungry, and most of the time I keep it healthy. Processed foods aren't in the equation; I'm always noshing on the good stuff. Fruits, vegetables, organic plain yogurt, and crackers made with whole grains.

What do you snack on?

*And for those of you worried about the cleanliness factor of my office, rest assured that I wipe the keyboard down every once in a while.

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Wordy Wednesday: Gratitude for Plentitude

This may sound completely contradictory to my detox notions, but tonight I spent a good five minutes explaining to my husband (over that bowl of steamed mussels) that I am so very grateful that we are able to enjoy food experiences such as these.

Thanks to a friend who generously gave us a Groupon that expired tonight, we enjoyed a lovely dinner at Texas French Bread, where they put together a delicious, locally and sustainably sourced menu for dinner that changes day-to-day. And everything is fantastic. It is home-spun and laid-back, and Ryan and I agree that while it's a once-in-a-while splurge, it's definitely our speed. Next time we're hankering for a "fancy" dinner, we'll head to TFB.

Experiencing food like this is such a thrill and I hope to offer these same culinary adventures to our children one day (no kids yet, folks, I enjoyed half our BYOB'd bottle of red wine this evening). Growing up in a small town, meals like tonight's—mussels, polenta, greens, and black drum, with butterscotch pudding for dessert—don't happen very often. But in a big city, these types of extraordinary taste bud adventures exist practically in our backyard.

I am miserly about many things—our house is filled with hand-me-downs and Ikea furniture—but food is not one of them.

It is likely because food is two-fold; I am happy to pay a premium for delicious, nourishing, soul-awakening meals that are sustainably sourced and locally farmed. For me, food is more than just a meal to be had three times a day; it carries with it such significance. Flavors, textures, emotions, memories, new experiences.

And while I am grateful that we are able to enjoy these things, I am reminded of those who go without.

Gratitude for plentitude.

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Detox

Strawberry Shortcake Donut from Gordoughs. I will dream about this one.

Another birthday came and went, and without warning, this one knocked me to the ground in only the way birthdays can. Up until this one, it was easy: "Pancakes and cupcakes and wine, oh my!" But oh, no, not this birthday. A sudden realization of aging; the fear of missing out on experiences—good and bad—with loved ones; a glimpse of my own mortality... Things got a little out of hand and my sweet husband just let me cry it out yesterday. Twice.

Part of my sadness likely stemmed from the lack of nutrients in my system, as last week failed to be the crown jewel in my healthy eating lifestyle. Moderation went out the window (along with my youth; hang on while I grab a tissue and sob some more) and at every turn I made a poor food decision. The restraint I normally pride myself in checked out all week long, as I reached for another beer, another dessert, another pancake, the world's largest (and most delicious) donut, and more, blaming it all on my birthday week.

Of course, there was also one extraordinary culinary adventure: birthday dinner at Uchiko. We happily savored each mouthful of sashimi, sushi, sake, aerated chocolate bar. That's one I don't regret.

In any case, this begins a week of detox. I say that in a very open-ended way; there will be no juice fasts, lemonade diets, or colon cleanses. Instead, I am committing to make positive food decisions. It  means rice cakes with peanut butter, kale-laden green smoothies, and vegetable broth soup. A simple, healthful way of nourishing my body. Oh yeah, and there will also be exercise.

To prove I'm serious: a trip to the grocery store yesterday did not yield its usual wedge of fine cheese. That's right, I came home Without. Any. Cheese.

I'm open for suggestions: what are your favorite ways to detox?

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Feeding Friends: Margherita Pizzas

This week, my best friend since approximately third grade and former college roomie (one and the same) came over for an impromptu dinner. It was just like old times, except we are both married now, and she's expecting. And unlike most of our dinners in college, this one did not involve frozen pre-cooked flash-frozen chicken breast. Or pasta. But it did involve fro-yo for dessert, which is the 2012 equivalent of ice cream.

It also resembled college dinners because we were about to enjoy pizza and salad together.

She and I have shared many memorable pizzas in our day. The thick-crusted, sauce-on-top ones at my dad's house in high school. The buffet at Gatti's on campus. The frozen ones that lived in our freezer in the apartment on Speedway and the house on Palo Duro. The veggie supreme one we scarfed down at Conan's after spending the day taking our bridal shots together.

Pizza is near and dear to us.

So having my bestie over for tortilla pizzas, dressed with garden tomatoes, as she eats for two? Well, the beauty was not lost on me.

So here's to the days we are able to cook for those we love. Our husbands and wives, our children, our friends, our dogs. These are always special days.

Margherita Tortilla Pizzas

4-6 tortillas (multi-grain or whole wheat)
4 small/medium tomatoes, sliced 1/8 inch thick
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup (or a few good glugs) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 to 3/4 cup shredded mozzarella
1/4 cup shredded Parmesan
1 teaspoon fresh oregano, minced
2 teaspoons fresh basil, minced

Preheat the oven to 450. Place the tortillas on a baking sheet and prick all over with a fork to prevent them bubbling up.

Mix the minced garlic and evoo in a small bowl. With a teaspoon, distribute evenly to each tortilla, spreading out with the back of the spoon.

Sprinkle each tortilla with finely shredded Parmesan. Top with tomato slices (approximately five per tortilla; do not let them overlap).

Sprinkle evenly with mozzarella, oregano, and basil.

Bake for about 10 minutes, or until tortillas are crispy and cheese has just turned golden.

Serve up with a side salad (we went Greek!) and enjoy.

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