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2011 meet 2012.

2011, you've been a weird year. i don't really know how to classify you. i didn't love you, but then again, i didn't hate you either. early in the year you weighed me down with the stress of graduating then shoved me into a new chapter, one that wasn't quite written out yet. i had a million and one plans and ideas. the only serious one was a passionate affair with cooking school but once i realized that my pursuit of songwriting {i mean, that's what the degree's in...} would be severely compromised with this career paying the bills i stood down. i needed to drift around for a few months, much to the nervousness of my family. i needed time to sort out the pieces and start putting them together. i didn't want to rush, make a mistake and have to start over. i wanted to do it right the first time. finally 2011 gave me the right opportunity in december. this job seems like the perfect compliment to my other goals and is something i'm hardwired for. i begin next week, it's an internship, but it's a start.

2011, you were kind of extreme, but at least, you gave me some crazy highs... like the last night of coachella when i was so tired by kanye's set that i couldn't stand. there's something romantic about exhaustion that's caused by fun... a birthday in vegas with my favorite people. laughing at the amazing amount girls wandering the strip in dresses that are unflatteringly tight... telling someone i love you and knowing, for a fact, that i meant it was rather nice, but knowing that they felt the same way was even better... skinny dipping in the summer drunk on wine and friends, lots of concerts, a few new cousins, short sweet vacations, some really lovely things. 2011, you weren't always so easy on me, but i don't want to dwell on some the trials you put me through because i am happy where i am, right this moment, and i couldn't be here without this past year.

2012, let's talk... i have many plans for you and, just a heads up, not all of them are going to be easy. in fact, most of them are going to be pretty fucking challenging. there's so much i want to do and accomplish that i can already feel you bursting at the seams. there's going to be a lot going on both physically and emotionally in the coming months but my foot has finally met the road. it's time to start following the path i've spent the past months laying for myself and for the first time, i feel pretty ready. 

croque montagnarde.

we all have our favorite foods. those special items that completely dazzle us no matter how many times, and ways, we've eaten them. once one looks at the top five foods i'm powerless against this sandwich ends up looking like a painfully obvious choice, doesn't it? 

my 5 favorites:

1. cheese
2. soda pop {don't judge me!}
3. bread
4. pasta
5. pork

sigh... i'm so unoriginal, but do you even need to ask if this croque montagblahblahblah was good? {you don't, it was} it's essentially a dressed up version of my favorite sandwich of all time, the french ham and cheese. {so you replace the butter with an even fatter concoction, add potatoes and then let it get all crusty in the oven? ok, i'm in.}

i discovered this classic combination when i was in paris awhile back. of all the fancy and delicious food i had there, and i had a lot, the main thing i ate over and over were these ham and cheese sandwiches they sold from street carts throughout the city. yes, i'm the girl that goes to paris and ends up mostly eating from a cart, but it was the best kind of street food, better than a 2am bacon death dog {angelenos, you understand} because you didn't need to be slightly sauced to fully enjoy it. three quality ingredients piled between a real french baguette is hard not to, at least, appreciate. a few days into our trip i couldn't help myself so i started ordering these sandwiches from the bistros too. on our last full day i had three.

i've been dying to make this for months but i wanted to wait for a cold fall day so it would taste that much better, and it did, it really did.  

croque montagnarde.

serves 2

from tartine bread

béchamel:

• 1 tbsp. unsalted butter
• 1 tbsp. all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• salt + fresh cracked pepper, tt
• pinch of nutmeg

croque montagnarde:

• 6 small fingerling potatoes, cooked until tender, smashed
• 1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 slices day old bread loaf {3/4"}
• 2 thick slices smoked ham
• 4 slices gruyére cheese {2oz}

béchamel:

1. melt butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat. add flour. whisk until mixture bubbles slightly, but has not started to brown, about 2 minutes.  
2. whisk in milk. bring to a boil to thicken. season with salt + pepper, tt. remove from heat.

croque montagnarde: 

1. preheat oven to 425. toss potatoes with olive oil. spread 1/4 cup of the sauce onto each slice of bread, and top with 1 slice of ham, some potatoes, and 2 slices of cheese.
2. bake on baking sheet until cheese is golden and bubbling, 12-14 minutes {start checking after 8 and rotate the sheet as needed for even browning}. stuff your face!

chicken and dumplings.

with certain meals i understand that even after all these recipes, even after all this time, i still have so much to learn. case in point, chicken and dumplings, but more the dumplings than the chicken. it 's not that they were challenging, really. i actually enjoyed carefully shaping the batter between two spoons and plopping big hunks of raw dough into thick chicken gravy. it made me feel like a kid helping my mom with something i'd never tackled before, equally proud and nervous. as i watched those mounds puff and bloat to their full, fluffy glory i prayed to the gods that this turn out the way it was suppose to. it's a time consuming dish and the longer a dish takes the more upset i get if anything goes wrong. {eg. i burnt my index finger on some chicken stock, then got so annoyed and frustrated i wanted to throw the whole dutch oven off my balcony. it took a few minutes for me to comprehend how hard i'd get sued if my pot of chicken and dough hit a civilian, so i decided it was smarter to just finish cooking it.} david made me realize when i was sitting down to eat though that most people have never had a traditional southern dumpling before {at least neither one of us had} so i didn't know what 'it was suppose to' actually was and that turned out to be the difficult part.

"soooo, where's the filling?" 

"there's no filling...it's like matzo ball soup for southern people."
"so it's like bread cooked in soup?"
"no, it's a dumpling."
"so, it's made with bread ingredients and cooks in soup, but it's called a dumpling?"
"yes. and it's more of a stew..."
"it's just a ball of dough..."
"...that's called a dumpling! bread's just a ball of dough that's called bread."
"boy, this dough is filling..."
"just say it! you hate my dumplings! you've always hated my dumplings!"
{yes, i'm joking and yes, we're weird...}

biting into these light lumps my tongue was desperately searching for a texture of recognition or a flavor i would automatically understand as 'done'. no raw flour taste, so that was good, i defeated the one obstacle i was aware of. after taking a few more bites i asked "are these cooked right?" knowing full well that his response would be "i don't know, i just told you i've never had one... but i think so?" they seemed to be... i think they were... but having nothing to compare it to, i guess we'll never know {unless i go to the south on a dumpling hunt which seems a bit excessive}. i enjoyed them, i think he did to. we both had two helpings and that's the most important part.

*quick shout out to auntie p for gifting me the cookbook this recipe came from! it's a winner! 

chicken and dumplings.
serves 4-6
from tyler florence family meals 

chicken and dumplings:

• 1 whole chicken, 4-5 lbs.
• 4 bay leaves
• 1 head garlic, halved horizontally
• 6 thyme sprigs
• salt + fresh cracked pepper
• 4-5 black peppercorns
• 2 tbsp. unsalted butter
• 1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 cup diced carrot
• 1/2 cup diced celery
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 5 tbsp. all-purpose flour
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 1 cup frozen pearl onions
• 1/4 cup heavy cream

dumplings:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tbsp. baking powder
• 1 tsp. salt
• 2 large eggs
• 3/4-1 cup buttermilk
• 1/4 fresh chives
• chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 

chicken and stock:

1. rinse the chicken under cold water and discard the giblets. place the chicken, 2 bay leaves, garlic head, thyme sprigs, a large pinch of salt, and the peppercorns in a large heavy pot and cover with water. bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 1 1/2 hours, or until the chicken is tender, skimming the surface several times.
2. transfer chicken to platter to cool. strain stock through a fine-mesh sieve, discarding all solids. pull the chicken into big pieces and discard the skin and bones. cover and set aside. measure out 6 cups of the chicken stock, reserving any additional stock for another use. 
3. in a dutch oven, heat butter and oil together over medium heat until the butter melts. add the carrot, celery, garlic, and 2 bay leaves and cook until veggies are soft, 5 minutes. add the flour and whisk until combined, then continue to stir and cook for 2 minutes. slowly pour in the 6 cups of stock, 1 cup at a time, stirring well after each addition. add the peas and the onions. simmer the sauce until it's thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 15 minutes. stir in the heavy cream and reserved chicken into the sauce and bring to a simmer. taste and add salt as necessary.

dumplings:

1. sift the flour, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. in a small bowl lightly beat eggs, buttermilk, and chives together; pour the egg mixture into your flour, fold gently until just combined. the dough should be soft and sticky, if it ends up being a bit dry add more buttermilk. 
2. using 2 spoons, carefully drop heaping tablespoons of the buttermilk-chive batter onto the hot chicken mixture. the dumpling should not be touching or crowded. cover the pot and cook the dumpling until they are firm, puffy, and cooked through. season with freshly cracked pepper and garnish with chopped parsley before serving.  

earl grey-brined shrimp + bergamot-lemon thyme butter.

if someone says shrimp it doesn't illicit much of a response from me. my brain doesn't instantly dream of cold seafood cocktails or of crunchy tempura-battered hand rolls. the truth is, i don't love shrimp. it's whatever, it's good, not great. fine, not fantastic. you get the idea.

  

i don't really cook much meat or fish at home. i probably shouldn't admit this but for some reason proteins intimidate me. once i start working with them i tend to get quite existential....it's weird, i know, but it's the truth {i'm deep?}. eating an animal doesn't bother me, but preparing one does, and since i'm a carbaholic anyway i never really saw a huge need to learn how to. earlier this year though, during my annual physical, my doctor sent my blood work in for a fancy nutrient analysis test. turns out i'm uber-healthy {score!}, but my blood did show that i was deficient in a few vitamins and nutrients that are found in lean protein. so, just so i can have super nutrient blood {and more so i can confidently prepare anything i want} i decided i need to start getting use to cooking with this stuff. 

shrimp is, unfortunately for me, the only protein i've consistently cooked pretty well so starting there seemed like an obvious first step. i began to feel that vague, nagging, bored sensation but then i stumbled upon this dish. there was something about the name of it that got me. i've never heard of shrimp dressed in such a regal way before. the idea of tea-soaked shrimp dripping in bergamot transported my mind to imperialist england. though that's not a particularly proud period for england, or much of the world for that matter, there's still is something oddly romantic about it. think back to a time when asia and the east were still this mystical foreign land known as the orient {which now, i know, might be the most politically incorrect term you can call this region and i mean no disrespect when i say, for some reason, i find it quite lovely in a nostalgic sort of way}. this foreign land which, in the minds of westerns, was filled to the brim with silks and spices, unique and unheard of items and ingredients. the world was still this huge place yet to be discovered, an untapped resource that we've managed to annihilate only a few hundred years later. i mean, c'mon, if you heard that there was a whole new continent we somehow never found in all these years you know you would be full of anticipatory excitement at its discovery. there's just something grand about the exotic and the unfamiliar and if this recipe could convince me there was something exotic and unfamiliar about shrimp, well, then my niacin levels might end up a little less deficient. 

this turned out to be pretty delicious. think of scampi spiked with tea instead of wine. are you thinking about it? yes, it's as interesting and wonderful as you imagine. i wouldn't go so far as to say that shrimp and i are in love, but i think i might be calling for a second date.

earl grey-brined shrimp + bergamot-lemon thyme butter.

serves 4
from melissa clark {via gilt taste}

• 2 large garlic cloves
• 1 1/2 lbs. shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 2 tbsp. salt
• 2 1/2 tbsp. + 2 tsp. earl grey tea
• 1 tsp. whole peppercorns
• 5 tbsp. unsalted butter
• 6 sprigs of lemon thyme
• 2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
• 1/2 tsp. grated lemon zest
• fresh cracked pepper
• basil leaves, torn to garnish

1. peel one garlic clove. put in a pot with 2 1/2 cups water, the salt, 2 1/2 tbsp. of tea and the peppercorns. bring to a boil, then pour it into a bowl and let steep for 5 minutes. add 2 cups of ice to cool to the liquid down. 
2. using a fork, prick the shrimp all over. add the shrimp to the tea brine and refrigerate for 2 hours.
3. in a small pot over the lowest heat possible, melt the butter - do not allow it to brown. as soon as the butter is melted, stir in remaining tea and the lemon thyme, pressing upon the thyme a few times to bruise the leaves. allow the mixture to infuse for 15 minutes. strain the butter through a fine-mesh sieve, pressing out solids. discard the herbs and tea.
4. one by one, take shrimp out of the brine, dunking them back in if needed to wash off any tea leaves. lay the shrimp out on a paper towel-lined plate; pat the tops of the shrimp dry with more paper towels. mince the remaining garlic and add it to a small bowl with the lemon juice and zest.
5. in a large skillet over medium-low heat, warm about three-quarters of the butter. add the shrimp and cook until pink on both sides, about 4 minutes. stir the minced garlic-lemon mixture in during the last 30 seconds of cooking. 
6. to serve, drizzle the shrimp with the remaining butter, then top with black pepper and basil leaves.

grandma's bran muffins.

 
there are those certain flavors that can act as an instant time machine. one bite and you're transported to somewhere in childhood, maybe not even to a memory or place specifically but to an attitude or some sort of youthful idealism. the overwhelming sense of nostalgia i get when i eat one of my grandma's bran muffins isn't necessarily a purely positive experience {although in terms of taste it is}. the last few months i've been stuck a bit in the past. i think for the first time in my short life i'm feeling a certain type of regret, the type where you wish you could go back and do things over again a bit differently. maybe i just regret that i didn't enjoy being a kid more, or maybe it's that i wish i could've undone some mistakes, or not have wasted my own time, whatever the reason these muffins have served as a bittersweet reminder of childhood and all the promise {and butter.... these are so good slathered in tons of the stuff.} it once offered.

now, i know you're thinking, um, hey, debbie downer, you're 24, your life is far from complete and you know what? you're absolutely right. it's a truth universally acknowledged that relying solely on your rear view mirror to drive will, without a doubt, lead you to crash your car. i better start looking forward.

grandma's bran muffins.

makes 12 muffins

from eileen tabares

• 1/4 box raisin bran cereal {go for a natural brand, most major ones use high frutose corn syrup, you don't need that crap}
• 1 1/4 cups flour
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 1/4 tsp. baking soda
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 1 egg
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/4 cup chopped walnuts
• pinch ground cloves + nutmeg

1. mix together cereal, flour, sugar, salt and baking soda in a large bowl.
2. add beaten eggs, oil, buttermilk, walnuts and spices.
3. refrigerate batter overnight. 
4. preheat oven to 375 degrees. lightly grease a muffin pan. let batter come to room temperature and lightly mix to reincorporate. divide batter evenly between 12 muffin tins.
5. bake for 15-20 minutes. let cool and serve with butter*. 

*i served mine with two different compound butters {orange-honey and cinnamon-sugar}. the great thing about these flavored butters are that they're super easy and makes anything your adding it to that much better {for both savory and sweet dishes}. let some butter come to room temp and add your favorite herbs or soft cheese or spread or seasoning, pretty much anything can go into it. mix together evenly, taste and adjust as necessary, then wrap in parchment or wax paper {making a log shape}, pop back in the fridge and voila, you're done!

salmon tartare.

so, yes, i'm back from my month-long hiatus. thanks for sticking with me there.

my life, which last month still felt very transitional, is now starting to settle into a sort of familiarity, like the perpetual "up in the air" feeling i have in the pit of my stomach is now slowly becoming normal and not quite as terrifying or stressful. it's still there, don't get me wrong, but i'm starting to come to terms with it. it seems like everyone failed to mention that the final transition into adulthood is by far the toughest {at least it has been for me}, but with the proper amount of time you can get used to just about anything and as i make more and more decisions my anxiousness about the future is evolving into excitement.

i recently decided to attend culinary school which is a big change from the career i was initially planning on. it's hard to figure out what will make you happy, but once i did, things became very clear. every opinion or judgement, that before i would've taken into account, just faded. at the end of the day the only one who can make you happy is you, as rom-com as it sounds. so having both chef and songwriter on a resume may look a tad schizophrenic, but hey, at least i'm not boring...

salmon tartare. 

serves 4
slightly adapted from bon appetit 

• 1 {8oz} boneless salmon fillet, skinless
• 1/4 cup fresh lime juice
• 1 1/2 tsp. minced scallions
• 1 1/2 tsp. minced fresh cilantro
• 1 1/2 tsp. vegetable oil
• 1 1/2 tsp. minced, seeded jalapeno
• 1 1/2 tsp. minced shallot
• 3/4 tsp. tsp. grated fresh ginger
• 1/4 tsp. sesame oil
• 1/4 tsp. lime zest
• salt + fresh cracked pepper, tt
• endive leaves and/or tortilla chips

1. place salmon in freezer for 20 minutes.
2. thinly slice salmon lengthwise into 1/8" wide sheets. cut each sheet into 1/8"-long strips. cut strips across to form cubes.
3. places salmon in a medium bowl. mix in all ingredients, salt and pepper to taste and serve with endive leaves or tortilla chips.

cauliflower cheddar soup.

this recipe comes from a cookbook david brought me back from his summer in ireland. the first page i flipped to i saw this recipe and the pull i instantly felt to it was magnetic. sometimes that happens to me with cookbooks. one dish will woo me to the point that no other recipes will interest me until i complete it. case in point, i already made an irish stew from this cookbook and all while i was preparing it i was thinking about cauliflower cheese soup. seriously, take a peak at my rambling internal dialogue. 

{wait, why am i making this? it's 85 degrees out. i bet that soup would taste great in any weather... uh, this is taking forever, soup would've been so much faster... well, ya, it's delicious, but i feel like it's missing something... maybe if it tasted more like cauliflower and cheddar cheese? maybe if its texture was smooth and creamy, like, i don't know, soup?}

yes, i was emotionally cheating on my irish stew, it's true, and i'm not proud of it. so i thought that i better make this fast before i take unfair advantage of another avoca cafe recipe. once a cheater, always a cheater.

cauliflower cheddar soup.

serves 6-8
from avoca cafe cookbook

• 1 onion, finely diced
• 1 russet potato, peeled and diced
• 1 tbsp. unsalted butter
• 4 cups {preferably homemade} vegetable stock
• 1 cauliflower, divided into small florets
• 6 oz mature cheddar cheese, grated
• 1 cup whole milk
• heavy cream
• salt + fresh cracked pepper, tt
• scallions, finely chopped {for garnish; optional}

1. gently saute onion and potato in butter over a very low heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent. add the stock and cauliflower. season with salt and pepper.
2. bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer for 15 minutes, until the veggies are cooked through.
3. puree, either with an immersion blender or a regular blender, then return soup to pan and bring back to a boil. remove from heat and stir in the cheddar and milk. reheat gently, adjust your seasoning.
4. serve topped with a spoonful of cream and/or scallions, if using.

anniversary.

it's was a year ago today that i wrote and published my first post. i can't believe i've kept this up for a whole year, but i'm happy i have. i never really thought anyone would end up reading at all so it's crazy to have had lots of support and so many lovely people who continue to read the random stuff i post. to anyone who's had something nice to say, seriously, it means something.

don't kid yourself if you're starting a blog. it is, at its core, a journal, and it's impossible to not share, i mean, that's kind of the point. sometimes i wonder how i come across or hope that someone's not reading and rolling their eyes or something. you know, the normal fleeting insecurities that we have in social interactions only now it's experienced through a computer. blogging is an oddly vulnerable experience.  

and i'm not the type of person who "shares". honestly, i'm pretty fucking private, even with my closest friends, even with my family.... so being as candid as i've been on here at times, is not something that comes naturally, but for some reason these posts tend to pry it out of me and always when i'm not intending for them to. maybe i just express myself better through print, but this blog, {which is just about cooking} has definitely been a somehow liberating hobby this past year.

so thanks for reading people.

*i'm taking the next month off from the blog while i start some classes {in case i want to go to grad school} and comb downtown los angeles for a day job. i'll still be updating the facebook page regularly during my absence so please pop over and say hi. i love being able to interact with you guys over there, it's fun. see you in a few weeks. 

heirloom tomato bruschetta on herb garlic bread. 

serves 2

adapted from martha stewart 

• one heirloom tomato
• extra virgin olive oil
• balsamic vinegar
• crushed red pepper flakes
• chopped chives
• dill sprigs
• salt & pepper
• sourdough bread, slices
• 1/2 stick unsalted butter, room temp
• 1/2 garlic clove
• 1/4 cup fresh flat-leafed parsley, finely chopped

1. chop the tomato and toss with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil, the chopped chives, and a pinch of crushed red-pepper flakes. salt and pepper, to taste. let stand.
2. finely chop parsley and garlic in a food processor. add butter, a pinch of salt and pepper, and puree until smooth.
3. spread herb butter on one side of your sourdough slices. heat a dry skillet over medium heat. add the sourdough {remember not to overcrowd the pan!}. flip slices when toasted {about three minutes} and repeat.
4. spoon tomato mixture onto parlsey buttered side of toasts, and garnish with a few dill sprigs.

¡viva las vegas!

a big thank you to my best friends for making the trip and making my first few days as a 24-year-old terribly fun. i'm now saddled with a cold and behind on sleep but it was totally worth it. i've also updated my old vegas post to include lavo where that glorious meatball is from. 

  
photos: tori lemkin