Roasted Pumpkin Soup with Pepitas

There is no stillness here. The wind is in the trees and the leaves are on the ground and all day I walk with a stirring inside. I imagine under my skin, in the dark hollow beneath my rib cage, no organs but an echoing chamber and a pile of dried leaves lifted by a wind and spun and swirled around and around and around. My heart beats like a hummingbird and even my thoughts seem somehow vaporous. Nothing lasts. That which goes unwritten is rootless.

The kitchen is my anchor. My hands stay busy. My mind moves freely from place to place and the wonders of muscle memory set in: peeling, chopping, stirring, salting. The cucumbers and tomatoes in my garden suddenly hold little appeal--fleeting sun fruits of a passing season. I am drawn to the golden orbs of pumpkin hunkered under canopies of vine. Even raw the flesh is substantial, absorbent. The pumpkin is earthly, lasting. It is designed to store in a cellar or on a shelf for months after it has been harvested. It lies in wait, steady, sustaining.

The deep smells of roasting--garlic, pumpkin, sizzling oil--level me. Then again the routine motions: scrape, stir, blend, stir. As night falls I ladle myself a bowl. Each velvety bite is a dropping in, a slowing down. I can feel my feet against the rag rug and the ground against my feet. If only for a moment, the quiet comes. I am still.

Roasted Pumpkin Soup with Pepitas

serves 4

About 3 lbs pumpkin or winter squash of choice

4 cloves garlic, peeled

4-6 cups chicken or vegetable stock

1/2 a sweet onion, chopped

1 jalapeno or other hot pepper, chopped with seeds

3 cardamom pods (or 1/2 t ground cardamom) 

dash of nutmeg

1 T coconut oil

1/4 cup raw pumpkin seeds

olive oil

salt & pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Quarter or halve your pumpkin(s) depending on the size and place skin side down on a baking sheet. Place each garlic clove in the hollow of each piece of pumpkin. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast until a fork goes easily through the flesh of the pumpkin, about an hour. Once the squash is cool enough to handle, scoop the flesh away from the skin with a spoon. Discard the skins.

Leave the oven and on and keep the baking sheet handy.

In a heavy-bottomed sauce pan, heat the coconut oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion, hot pepper and the nutmeg and stir. Gently crush the cardamom pods with the flat side of a large knife and add to the pot. Once the onion is wilted, add the squash and stock. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer for about 20 more minutes. 

While the soup is cooking, drizzle about 1T of olive oil on the baking sheet and pour the pumpkin seeds on top. Sprinkle generously with salt and pop the tray in the oven until the seeds get brown and plump, about 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool.

Turn the soup off, remove the cardamom pods with a slotted spoon, and let the remainder cool enough to put into a blender. Working in batches, blend the soup until smooth and return to the pot. Heat when ready to serve, topping each bowl with a drizzle of olive oil and a spoonfull of pepitas.

This is extra delicious with buttery rye toast.

Sister Fish

My sister, Susannah, was skilled in the kitchen long before I realized that I loved to cook. While I was traipsing around the backyard choreographing dance routines for an audience of stuffed animals, Susannah, age 10, was perfecting tomato quiche, a dish I pretended to be bored of as a matter of jealous principle. We each took our roundabout ways to get back to the kitchen and now, Susannah owns her own cafe, Bread & Circuses, in Barcelona, turning the Catalonian crowd onto the virtues of the American sandwich.

On the rare occasion that Susannah and I find ourselves in the same country and in the same kitchen, true to Taylor-family form, we spend breakfast talking about what to eat for lunch and spend lunch discussing what we'll have for dinner. Cooking together has become part stage, and part classroom for each of us, an opportunity to show off but also to see what dishes the other has come to love. Our palettes were trained on the same food for much of our lives, but our takes are different--let's just say I tend more towards "buckwheat" and she towards "butter". From time to time, each of us produces a dish that could just have easily sprung from the other's brain.

A few weeks ago Sus did just that with this incredibly simple fish dish. It combines many of my favorite flavors in a single roasting pan--lemon, olives, fennel, peppers-- and it only takes about 15 minutes to cook. For those of you who are intimidated by cooking fish, which can seem complicated, this is a great way to test the waters. This time I can't feign boredom and must give credit where credit is due. Sister fish is delicious.

Sister Fish

feeds 4

One 1.5 pound very fresh cod filet (or four small filets)

1/2 bulb of fennel

1/2 a red onion

4 cloves garlic

1 small red or orange bell pepper

1/2 a cup good green olives

1 lemon

olive oil

salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Using a mandoline or a very sharp knife, carefully juilenne the fennel, peppers and onion. Place them in the bottom of a roasting pan.

Add the peeled garlic cloves and olives to the pan along with a glug of olive oil and some salt and pepper. Toss the vegetables well until they are somewhat evenly mixed and coated, and make a thick layer in the bottom of the pan.

Again, using the mandoline or a knife, slice enough paper-thin rounds of lemon to form a single layer over the vegetables.

Place the fish filet(s) in a single layer on top of the lemons. Drizzle with a bit more olive oil. Salt and pepper the fish, place in the oven and cook for about 15 minutes, until the fish is just cooked through. It should flake easily away when prodded with a fork but should still be moist. The vegetables should be soft and starting to let their juices into the bottom of the pan. 

Using a metal spatula, divide the filet into four even pieces. Distribute the vegetables evenly among the four plates and top each with a piece of fish. Add a bit more salt and pepper to taste and serve with a wedge of fresh lemon.

Summer Fruits: The Bounty Continues

The little peach tree in my parents' backyard is easy to overlook. It sits at the edge of a field, not quite part of the lawn and not at all part of the ancient apple orchard.  It's a little scrawny, slightly lopsided, a wallflower amidst the blousy peonies and brazen dahlias. For a couple of years it bore no fruit at all. Last summer it was partially run over by a reversing tractor. I wondered if it would make it through another winter. My mother, on the other hand, never lost faith in the little tree and did what she could to nurture it and coax it into good health. Whatever she did, worked. During my last week in Maine as autumn made its first chilly pronouncements, the peach tree put forth more fruit than we could eat.

And what fruit it was! Beneath the slightly-too-furry skin of each small peach was golden flesh, soft and sweet and perfectly tart. We ate them in granola, made them into crisp, piled them on top of cardamom cake and pancakes. One late morning I decided to marry the fruits of our seemingly endless bounty. I can't recall ever eating tomatoes and peaches together before but suddenly it made sense. Both fruits, in season and at their best, are juicy, textured, and tantalize the tongue with flavors that shift as you chew, from sweet to acid and back again.

I toasted a few pieces of Tinder Hearth bread (no other bread worth eating if you live in the state of Maine), spread them with a thick layer of ash-rind chevre, and topped them with spicy arugula from the garden, yellow tomatoes and thin slices of peach. Though I am home now in California and without said peach tree, I am not without peaches, tomatoes and very delicious bread. I've got this one on repeat. For another week or two, as the east and west coast growing seasons mystically align and the same produce is found most anywhere you go, I recommend eating tomatoes and peaches--together or separately--while you still can. Savor those last bites of summer.

Tomato & Peach Sandwiches

Delicious crusty bread

One ripe but slightly firm peach

One ripe medium sized tomato

Handful of spicy baby greens

Good, slightly stinky chevre

olive oil

salt & pepper

Cut four slices of bread, each about an inch thick. Toast.

While the bread is toasting, slice the tomatoes and peaches into thin slices. Once the bread is ready and while it is still hot, spread a generous amount of chevre onto each piece of toast. Layer greens, peaches and tomatoes in whatever order you prefer. Salt and pepper generously and drizzle with really good olive oil.

Eat. Repeat.

Slow Roasted Gigante Beans with Tomato and Artichoke

There are few things I love more than a summer garden bounty. A unique excitement comes over me when I step out of my door and walk a few feet into the garden to determine what I will eat for my next meal. The part of my brain that requires tangible results, proof of patience or of hard work or of quantifiable value, really loves gardening. The carrot patch is full of weeds? Hours later it can be picked clean, thinned out and tidy, leaving only the cheerful froth of carrot tops, breathing more easily in their newly spacious soil. The thinnings become a snack or pesto or compost. When it all goes well, nothing is wasted. But bounty is not without its challenges. I remember Sandor Katz saying in an interview that no one told him when he first started gardening that everything would ripen at the same time. What do you do with all that produce? Katz's solution was fermenting and preserving.

As you know, this is not the first time I've confronted the issue of overabundance in the backyard. After swearing off zucchinis, the problem is easier to deal with. The plants that won't stop producing this year are the Sungold tomatoes. We harvest them daily and still, within hours of picking the vines clean, I look outside and see the sweet, orange little orbs that I missed or that have suddenly ripened, taunting me, reminding me that there is work yet to do. Luckily, the fruit is delicious raw, right off the vine. But when the counter is covered in overflowing bowls of tomatoes, some processing is required. 

Slow-roasting tomatoes is a great way to preserve. The flavors get concentrated, richer, full of that ever elusive umami quality. They are delicious spread on sandwiches, made into a dip, or added to pasta sauces and stews. Roasted tomatoes easily last a week in the fridge. It's also nice to throw them in the freezer and pull them out in the winter when grocery store tomatoes are nothing more than hard and tasteless imposters.

A happy accident brought me to this next recipe. I wasn't long into roasting a pan of tomatoes when I realized my timing was off and I needed to leave the house before the roasting was complete. I pulled the tomatoes out after about an hour and left them to cool on the stove top. They were soft, bursting out of their skins, full of the bright, sweet flavors of the raw fruit, but with an added complexity and a slight richness to them.

Hours later, hungry and out of patience for a slow roast, I turned to improvisation for inspiration. I had gigante beans in the fridge from earlier in the week and a couple of cans of artichoke hearts. I threw the artichoke hearts, tomatoes, a few cloves of garlic and the white beans into a roasting pan, covered it all with some chicken stock and threw it in the oven for an hour. The result, topped with pecorino and basil, was a hot dish of comforting, savory beans, hearty enough to be a meal alone and with all the lightness of summer time food. I have recreated this with slight tweaks, every week since the first try. Fingers crossed, this bounty lasts a few more weeks.

Gigante Beans with Roasted Artichokes & Sungolds

1.5 cups gigante beans, rinsed and soaked overnight

2 cans artichoke hearts, rinsed & halved

2 cups sungold tomatoes (halved if very large)

1/2 cup chicken stock

6 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed

olive oil

handful purple basil

fresh grated Pecorino Romano to garnish

salt and pepper to taste

To cook the gigante beans pour the beans and soaking water into a large pot. Add more water to cover if needed. Bring the beans to a boil then reduce to a simmer and cook until a fork goes easily through. You want them to still have a bit of firmness. This takes 45 minutes to an hour. This step can be done the day before.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees. On a rimmed sheet tray spread the tomatoes in a single layer. Drizzle with olive oil and toss gently to evenly coat. Roast about 45 minutes and remove the tray and increase the temperature on the oven to 400 degrees.

Combine the beans, garlic, tomatoes and artichoke hearts in a roasting pan. Add the chicken broth, a generous dash of salt and lots of cracked black pepper. Stir everything together well and return to the oven. Let bake for 45 minutes to an hour, stirring occasionally. If the pan dries out, add more chicken broth. The longer you can let the pan go, the softer the beans become. 

Once everything is cooked to your liking, remove the baking dish and let cool for 5 minutes. Serve alone or as a side, topped with chopped basil, fresh grated Pecorino Romano, more pepper and maybe some lemon zest too.

Potage Santé aka Green Soup

When you are used to cooking for two and are suddenly left to your own devices, funny things start to happen. Namely, your meals suffer. I inherited from my mother the proclivity to--when left to eat alone--combine leftovers of different and discordant flavors in the same bowl, at odd times of the day or night, and to eat them while doing a crossword puzzle. It's not a lack of interest in the preparation, or in the flavor of the food, but rather a tendency to fall into a time warp of concentration and work from which we suddenly awaken, and, ravenous, go for ease of access and the simple need to fuel. The crossword puzzle is a way to somewhat absentmindedly reboot the brain. It's that or solitaire. So while my sweetheart is scaling cliffs in Yosemite I have found myself, at 5pm or late at night, eating a "dinner" comprised of things in my fridge that can only be summed up by calling them "orts." Yup. It's been that good.

Yesterday we had the first rainy day in Sonoma in months. The sky was a smudge against the bleached hills, and while it never poured, a steady drizzle made it just cold enough to let it settle in the bones. In that damp afternoon, I went to the garden, picked a bunch of kale and uncovered startlingly red potatoes, gleaming like garnets in the black loam.

I was going to cook. I would not eat popcorn and pieces of turkey rolled around mustard and slices of avocado then dipped in hummus. I was going to prepare a delicious, nourishing meal and eat it at dinner time. I was going to make green soup.

Green soup is something my dad makes, and it is something his mother made. She called it Potage Santé, which means Health Soup. Hers always included sorrel, which is a delicious, lemony weed that grows wild and is a great detoxifier and general tonic. It's hard to find in groceries stores or markets so dad and I have both adapted the recipe, using whatever greens we can get. This is a soup for all seasons though I associate it with inclement weather: a rainy summer night, blizzards, sunless spring days and the first frosts of autumn. Each green soup is slightly different from the last--depending on the season, the mood, the vegetables at hand--but it is always green, always with the backbone of some kind of allium and a potato to thicken, and best accompanied by crusty bread warmed in the oven, and a couple of good cheeses.

Our sorrel hasn't emerged yet so I used kale from the garden, some cauliflower that needed a home, and, just to make it extra green, the last of a bag of frozen peas. I had no onion but young garlic worked just as well.

While this soup is a great home for the ends of vegetables it is also one which is vastly improved by the quality of the ingredients you put into it. It's a great neutral pallet for any array of herbs and spices but if your vegetables have come straight out of healthy ground or fresh from a farmer's market, you won't need more than salt and pepper.

The soup took me about an hour and a half to prep, cook, puree and reheat. At 7pm I closed my computer, poured a glass of wine, turned on some music, and sat down to a real meal by myself. It truly was health soup. Never underestimate the joy of cooking for one.

Green Soup

serves 4-6

4-5 cups chicken or vegetable stock or water

1 medium sized leek, sliced & washed

about 2 cups chopped celery and/or carrots

12-16 oz potatoes, peeled and cubed

4 cups dark leafy greens of choice, roughly chopped

2 T olive oil

1 T unsalted butter

salt and pepper to taste

optional add-ins
fresh or frozen peas
dandelion greens
spinach
collard greens or swiss chard
broccoli or cauliflower

sour cream, heavy cream or plain yogurt to top
chopped fresh herbs to top
red pepper flakes to top
edible flowers to top

In a large, heavy-bottomed pot, heat the olive oil and melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the leek and sauté, stirring, for about one minute. Reduce heat to medium and add the celery and carrots. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and the leek is translucent. 

Add the potatoes (and broccoli if you are using it), stir, and then pour in the stock. The liquid should cover the vegetables. If it doesn't, add more stock or water to cover. Bring to a boil then reduce to a simmer, cooking until a fork goes easily through the potatoes. About 10-15 minutes. When the potatoes are cooked but not too soft, stir in the greens. You may need to add a bit more liquid at this point. Once the greens are wilted, remove the pot from heat and let cool about 10 minutes.

Working in batches, ladle the soup into a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Pour the pureed soup into a bowl. If you are serving right away, pour the pureed soup back into the pot and heat at medium-low heat. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. You may want to thin the soup with more stock or water at this point as well. If you plan to eat the soup later, let it cool after pureeing and then store in the refrigerator until ready to eat.

When the soup is hot, ladle into bowls and top however you choose. This time I used wild mustard flowers from the bed in front of our house. Crusty bread for dredging the empty bowl is highly recommended.

Spring Chicken Soup

Forsythia! Eucalyptus! Live Oak! Red Bud! Yes, it is spring time in California, less affectionately (and in an alarmist tone) referred to as ALLERGY SEASON (cue doomsday foreboding music). But seriously people, happy as we all are to see our surroundings brightening and blooming, many of us are also suffering a bit from constant symptoms of allergies which can bring on or just mimic the symptoms of a bad head cold. Old fashioned as it may be, there is nothing better tasting to me when I feel stuffed up and foggy than hot chicken soup. I don't quite remember when it entered her repertoire, but at some point my mom started making an Asian-inspired chicken soup with coconut milk, tangy kaffir lime leaves and that unmistakable laser-like citrus taste of lemongrass. 

This soup is packed with major immune boosters and a host of powerful digestive aids, expectorants, sore throat soothers, and other curative wonders described below. 

I have tried to recreate mom's perfect soup from memory a couple times with subpar results. Eventually I combined my memory of her soup and a Tyler Florence recipe. The result is near-perfect, though I have to say, when I am under the weather, nothing is quite as healing or comforting as Mama herself.

Coconut Chicken Soup

adapted from Tyler Florence on The Food Network

2 Boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1.5 lbs), cut into 1-2inch cubes

1 quart Organic chicken broth

1 stalk lemon grass, white part only, cut in half lengthwise

1 4-inch piece of ginger (or galangal) peeled and thinly sliced

1 Habanero pepper, de-stemmed and halved lengthwise

4 large garlic cloves, peeled and crushed with the flat side of a knife

1 (13oz) can full fat coconut milk

2 T Thai fish sauce

Shitake and other mushrooms, halved (or quartered if large, about 10oz)

4 limes, juiced

a scant 1/2 cup of corn starch

1/4-1/2 cup coconut oil

3 scallions, chopped

chopped cilantro and basil to top

In a bowl, toss the chicken cubes with the corn starch until each piece is well coated.

Heat a pan over medium-high heat and let half of the coconut oil heat until fully melted. Working in batches, cook the chicken in one even layer, letting brown on one side before flipping it over with tongs. About 5 minutes on each side depending on the size of your chicken cubes. Place the cooked chicken on a paper towel-lined plate or sheet tray. You may need to add more coconut oil between batches.

In a large pot bring the broth to a boil over medium heat. Add the garlic, ginger, pepper, lemongrass, and mushrooms, cover, reduce heat to medium-low and let simmer for about 10 minutes to infuse the broth with the herbs.

Uncover, add the chicken, fish sauce, coconut milk and lime juice. Simmer about 5 more minutes until chicken is heated through.

Ladle into bowls and top with  chopped scallion, cilantro and basil, and maybe even a wedge of lime if you have extras lying around.

Foods That Bring the Fight*
Coconut Milk: A complete protein, chemically comparative to mother's milk, warming, thirst quenching, high in organic iodine which has laxative properties and soothes internal membranes.

Garlic: Antibacterial, antifungal, antiseptic, digestive, expectorant, detoxifier. As Dianne Onstad notes, "One raw crushed garlic clove contains the antibiotic equivalent of one hundred thousand units of penicillin."

Ginger: Antispasmodic, appetizer, expectorant, promotes circulation, helps stimulate and energize the body especially when fighting illness.

Lemongrass: Analgesic, digestive, helps relieve headaches.

Lime: High in Vitamin C, contains potassium, magnesium, iron. Antiseptic, helps sore throats, loosens mucus and stimulates lymphatic system, gall bladder and liver. Alkalizer (despite its acidic taste), destroys putrid bacteria in the mouth and gut, builds lung strength, encourages rebuilding of tissues.

Mushrooms: High mineral and vitamin content--particularly zinc, no sugar, general immune boosters, anti-cancerous, neutralize toxic buildup in the body.

*Onstad, Dianne. Whole Foods Companion (White River Junction, Vermont: Chelsea Green Publishing Company, 2004) selected pages 

Fettuccini with Goat Cheese, Bacon, and Fava Leaves

Monday, after a long day of climbing, we burst into the house, ravenous, and ready to eat just about anything in sight. I opened the fridge, hoping to see some feast I had brilliantly made in anticipation of this moment, only to be reminded that we desperately needed to go grocery shopping. Not even a jar of peanut butter to tide us over. We needed dinner and we needed it fast.

This pasta dish came together with what we had on hand: a package of bacon, a pound of brown rice pasta, some goat cheese, and an endless supply of tender, young fava leaves from our backyard. Fava leaves are a beautiful, silvery-green color and they have the same subtle, nutty flavor of the young fava bean. I have been eating them raw in salads with blood oranges (another obsession of late) and avocado, or throwing them in last minute to grain dishes and soups. The flavor has the same promise of spring as young pea shoots or the first slender stalks of asparagus.

If you don't have fava on hand you can easily substitute another green. Dandelion greens will add a nice bitter bite to the dish and sorrel will give it a lemony lift. If you are in a greens-deprived place, there is always delicious, reliable kale. The beauty of this pasta is the ease of the recipe and its potential for endless iterations with whatever you have on hand.

Fettuccini with Goat Cheese, Bacon & Fava Leaves

Serves 4 (or 2 SUPER hungry people)

1lb Brown Rice Fettuccini (or regular fettuccini)

1 medium sized yellow onion, chopped

4 or 5 pieces of thick cut bacon

4 oz chevre

3 large garlic cloves smashed with the back of a knife

4 cups fresh young fava leaves

salt and pepper

parmesan to top

Heat a large cast iron pan over medium heat. Add the bacon and cook until crispy, about 20 minutes. Remove the bacon and place on a paper towel-lined plate. If your bacon yielded a lot of fat you may want to drain off half of it to save for another use. Be sure to leave a good amount (at least 1/8 of a cup) in the pan. Once the bacon has cooled, chop into good sized chunks, about 1/2 an inch. 

Stir the garlic and onion into the bacon grease (careful for grease splatters!) and lower the heat a little. Add lots of fresh cracked black pepper and stir periodically. You want the onions to be soft and starting to brown by the time the pasta is finished cooking.

While the onions and garlic cook, bring a large pot of well salted water to a boil. Once boiling, add the pasta and stir. Cook until al dente. Reserve 1 cup of the pasta water then drain the pasta in a colander. 

Add the pasta, bacon and goat cheese to the pan of onions. Stir everything together, adding small amounts of the reserved pasta water at a time to help the sauce come together. Once everything is well mixed and the pasta evenly coated, remove from heat and stir in half of the fava leaves. Once the leaves are well mixed and wilted add the remainder of the leaves.

Serve immediately topped with fresh grated parmesan, cracked black pepper, and--if you are as citrus obsessed as I-lots of fresh lemon zest.

Slow Roasted Halibut with Fennel-Lemon Oil

Dinner is my favorite meal, both to eat and to cook. I am positive this is because of how I was raised. Dinner was ceremony. Around 6:00 each night, martini in hand, Dad would start his kitchen ministrations--readying coals on the grill, boiling water, mixing sauces. Around 7pm we would get the call to set the table. Placemats, cloth napkins, fork on the left and knife on the right, dinner plates heated in the oven. Salt and pepper? Dad would call from the kitchen. Check. Candles? Check. Serving spoons? Hot plates? Check, check. From 7:30 to 8:30pm each night the four of us sat down for dinner without distraction. We were not allowed to answer the phone. There was no TV on in the background. We ate and we talked. This is where I learned how my parents met, that my mom once lived with 3 men in a basement apartment that had only a curtain separating the bathroom from the kitchen (scandal!), that my Dad wrestled an octopus in the Pacific Ocean. It was at the oval table over a favorite meal of steak, peas and couscous that my sister and I had our first sips of wine, that we admitted to a bad grade on a test or being asked to the prom. Could we go? There have been phases in my life where the formality of dinner has fallen by the wayside. But a day without the punctuation of a dinner lovingly prepared and shared sends me to bed wanting.  The plates of my childhood are what I think of as a three part plate, a plate anchored by an animal protein and rounded out by a "starch" and a vegetable. These days my dinner plates don't always take that form and animal protein is not always the focal point. But this past Sunday night, craving comfort food, I found myself planning a three part plate in my head. Pete requested fish--a food absent from his diet in Argentina this past month--and, though I did not have a martini in hand, around 6pm, I started the happy task of boiling water, salting a halibut filet, zesting lemons and washing salad greens. This time, Pete set the table.

Slow Roasted Halibut with Fennel-Lemon Oil

 (barely) adapted from the improvisational cook

Serves 2

One pound filet of halibut, skin on

3 T olive oil plus extra for brushing

1 t fennel seeds

1 two inch piece of lemon zest

salt and pepper

lemon wedge to garnish

Preheat the oven to 275 degrees. Brush a baking dish with olive oil and place the fish, skin side down in the dish. Brush the top of the filet with olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

In a small saucepan over medium heat, toast the fennel seeds until fragrant. Add the olive oil and warm about 3 minutes. Remove from heat, add the lemon zest and let it all steep.

Cook the fish for 25-30 minutes* until a fork goes through the fattest part of the filet without resistance and the flesh of the fish separates easily from the skin. *Schneider recommends 5 minutes of cooking for each 1/4 inch of thickness of the filet.

Cut the filet in half, lengthwise, and plate. Using a teaspoon, drizzle the infused olive oil and fennel seeds over the top of each filet. Garnish with lemon wedges. 

We ate this with salad from the garden and rice spiked with blood orange and smoked paprika. I also threw some sliced fennel I had in the fridge and a sliced onion into a baking dish with a little butter and let them slow roast at the same time as the fish.

Gluten Free Beet Gnocchi with Cilantro-Walnut Pesto

I have always loved gnocchi. I like its plump little form, the toothsome nature of it, the way it draws a hearty ragu or a simple sauce or a delicate broth around it with equal success and delivers it all in one perfect bite. No cutting required. In most cases, when I love a food, I try to make it at home (carpaccio and ice cream being a couple exceptions that jump to mind.) Until recently, gnocchi was on that short list. I was intimidated by it, sure I would mess it up, and confident that a home version would fall so short of the ones expertly made in my favorite restaurants that I couldn't possibly enjoy it. Then I stumbled upon, of all things, a recipe for gluten free gnocchi made with beets as well as potato. The color of the final product was so stunning that I bookmarked the page and then forgot about it for a year. As I mentioned a few months ago, we take breaks from gluten from time to time.** I have been experimenting more with gluten free flours, trying to understand how they behave, and after pancakes, brownies, and cookies, I wanted to try something new, and savory. Pouring over blog posts old and new, I rediscovered this beautiful bookmarked post and decided to give it a whirl. I figured it would either taste good but look bad or look good and taste like an obvious gluten free impostor of something delicious. I invited my friend Lauren over to taste test.

I admit, I was surprised by the whole experience. The recipe was surprisingly easy and relatively quick to make. The result was a "pasta" with all the toothsome, sauce-carrying deliciousness of pure potato gnocchi, with the added benefit of being beautiful to look at and full of all the detoxifying power, vitamin C, Folic Acid and Potassium of beets. It was delicious. We had seconds. This is sure to be one of my staples from now on.

Note: I froze a few of the gnocchi and cooked them a few days later. The result was pink mush. Moral of the story, eat these fresh. They should be fine in the fridge for a day or two, uncooked, if you have more than you can eat the first day.

Gluten-Free Beet Gnocchi

adapted from La Tartine Gourmande

serves 4 as a main course or 6 as an appetizer

7 oz cooked, peeled beets (2 or 3 smallish beets)

14 oz peeled baking potatoes (2 medium sized potatoes)

1/3 cup quinoa flour plus more for dusting

1/3 cup potato starch

2 T corn starch

2 T almond flour

1 egg

1 T olive oil

salt and pepper

Cilantro-Walnut Pesto

1 cup raw walnuts

1 bunch cilantro

2 cloves garlic

zest of one small orange

zest of one small lemon

salt and pepper

olive oil

Peel and dice the potatoes. Place them in a pot of cold water and bring to a boil, "steaming" them until soft, about 15 minutes.

Boil the beets whole, skin on, in salted water with a little white vinegar added to help retain the color. When a fork goes easily through each beet (about 40 minutes), drain and run under cold water. Peel the skins away with your fingers. You can do this the day before and store the beets in the fridge.

With a potato ricer, mash the beets and the potatoes into a bowl and mix well. (My ricer broke after I did the potatoes so I ended up dicing the beets and then running them through the food processor until pureed which worked well). Once well combined, turn the veggie mash onto a board which has been lightly floured with quinoa flour.

Make a hole in the middle of the mash and crack the egg into the hole. Mix the egg into the mash with a fork or your fingers. Season well with salt and pepper. Add the almond flour, corn starch, potato starch and quinoa flour and mix well. Add more quinoa flour as needed. The dough should be a little wet but should hold together.

Divide the dough into 4 or 6 pieces. Working with one section at a time, roll each piece of dough into a long stick, about 1/2 an inch in diameter. Cut the stick at half inch intervals. You can leave the gnocchi as is, or, to get a nice pattern, roll each 1/2 inch piece along the tines of a fork before placing on a plate or wax paper-lined sheet tray. Repeat with each section of dough. 

Bring a large pot of well salted water to a boil. While you wait for the water to boil, make the pesto.

Place the garlic, walnuts and a pinch of salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until well combined. Add cilantro and citrus zests. With the food processor running, pour olive oil through the feed tube until the pesto reaches your desired consistency.

Once the water has boiled, cook the gnocchi in batches (no more than what would cover the bottom of the pot in a single layer) for just a few minutes. The gnocchi will rise to the surface when ready. Remove with a slotted spoon.

Top with Cilantro Walnut Pesto or sauce of choice, lots of fresh grated parmesan, and lots of fresh black pepper.

**In light of the current gluten-free craze, I have been reluctant to discuss it here or in person too much because, in my experience and in my opinion, no two people react quite the same way to gluten and I don't want to come across as endorsing one particular diet or another. Some people feel hale and hearty after a gluten-packed meal. Others feel bloated, cranky, head-achey, and even depressed. And a small percentage of the population has celiac disease which is a serious abnormal immune reaction to gluten. For those of you who have not been diagnosed with celiac disease but are curious about being gluten free, I suggest you experiment. Take note of how you feel right after, hours after and the day after a meal with gluten or a meal without it. Play around and remember that each meal you eat, no matter the composition, gives you more information about what your mouth likes, what your body's "machine" likes, and how you can find a way to feed both of them without leaving either feeling deprived.

I would love to hear about your experiences with gluten and/or gluten-free. And, as always, please feel free to ask me questions.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

End of Summer Lasagna (no noodles): Zucchini Trilogy Part 3

Apologies for the delayed post. For whatever reason, this post about the medium sized zucchini was the hardest for me to decide on. I flipped through every cookbook I have and went into the archives of several blogs looking for inspiration. I considered making this inventive cobbler which I am still going to try, and I also considered some iteration of this but I have yet to buy a spiral slicer (next on my "to buy" list for the kitchen). I settled on pasta-less lasagna. The mornings and evenings have turned cold here and I find myself less drawn to chilled soups and salads for dinner. I want hot food but I still don't want the heavier pastas and stews of winter. This lasagna, using slabs of zucchini and eggplant in place of the noodles is a nice middle ground--hot, comforting, gooey with cheese but light and fresh and full of the summer garden harvest. I didn't include a recipe for the pesto here because I never really measure when I make it. Basically I throw salt, a clove or two of garlic, a raw nut of my choosing (walnuts this time) and big handfuls of herbs (basil & lemon balm in equal measure) into the food processor, hit "on", and pour good olive oil into the feed tube until I get the texture I want. From there I salt, pepper, and re-herb as needed. It requires, as most cooking does, the happy job of multiple taste tests.

Noodle-less Zucchini & Eggplant Lasagna

2 medium sized zucchini

1 medium eggplant

10-15oz whole milk ricotta

1 egg

zest of one lemon

parsley, thyme, oregano, mint or any other fresh herb you have on hand

red pepper flakes

pesto

olive oil

mozzarella and/or parmesan to top

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Slice the zucchini & eggplant lengthwise into 1/8-inch thick slices. Arrange in a single layer on your counter, cutting board or a sheet tray and drizzle lightly with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt.

In a bowl mix ricotta, lemon zest, egg, and chopped parsley, mint, oregano & thyme (or other herbs), and red pepper flakes until well combined. Salt and pepper to taste.

Lightly oil a lasagna pan and cover with a single layer of zucchini. Top the zucchini with a generous layer of the ricotta mixture.

Cover  the ricotta with a single layer of eggplant. Top the eggplant with a generous layer of pesto. Repeat the layering steps alternating zucchini, ricotta, eggplant, pesto until you reach just below the lip of the pan.

Sprinkle grated mozzarella and/or parmesan over the top and cover the pan with foil making sure the foil is not resting directly on top of the cheese.

Bake covered for 25-30 minutes. Uncover the lasagna and bake another 15 minutes until the cheese is melted and brown. Zucchini and eggplant should be fully cooked but, in my opinion, still a bit firm.

Let rest uncovered for 10 minutes, slice, share, enjoy.

Health benefits of lemon balm & basil

Lemon Balm
Lemon balm is antibacterial and has been used topically to dress and heal wounds for centuries. When ingested it is said to help with digestion, relieve nausea, and help with troubles of the liver, spleen, kidneys and bladder.

Basil
Basil is a member of the mint family. It helps stimulate appetite and digestion and it is a tonic for frazzled nerves. It is a natural breath freshener and can help counteract flatulence, constipation, nausea, and stomach cramps. It is a mild antibacterial and anti fungal so the leaves can be used topically to alleviate itching skin and insect bites.

Bonus: They are both delicious!!!