Why I love onesies

My former colleague Joan once commented that I wore a lot of dresses in the summer. I told her dresses are the working woman's onesie. I love one-dish meals for the same reason I like to wear dresses. Everything already is matched up for you. Just as you don't have to coordinate a top to your pants, a one-dish meal already includes the vegetable to go with your protein. Sure, you still have to accessorize (shoes, wine or beer), but you had to do that anyway. A dress takes up less space in a suitcase, and a one-dish meal takes up less pots on the stove. Less pots on the stove, less pots my husband has to clean after dinner. Everyone wins!

Halibut, spinach and orzo onesie, adapted from Bon Appetit, October 2005
Serves 2

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons lemon juice
salt and pepper
2 4-6 ounce halibut fillets
3/4 cup orzo (or any other teeny pasta)
2 garlic clove, minced
1 pint cherry tomatoes
8 ounce bag of baby spinach

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Whisk together two tablespoons of the olive oil and the lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Put the halibut fillets on a small baking sheet and drizzle with about half of the dressing. Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until opaque in the center.

Meanwhile, cook the orzo in boiling water until tender. Saute the garlic in the remaining tablespoon of olive oil about one minute. Add the cherry tomatoes and cook over medium high heat until they start to burst, about 5-7 minutes. Toss the spinach in and allow it to wilt. When the orzo is done, add it to the pan too. Season with more salt and pepper. To serve, divide the orzo/spinach/tomato mixture amongst plates, top with a piece of halibut, and drizzle with the remaining lemon dressing.

Linguistics and langoustines

There's a little Italian place in DC that I used to go for lunch with my old boss. He went there all the time and the owner always brought him dessert wine at the end of the meal. That always made afternoon typing a little trickier, but I am never one to say no to free booze. But anyway, I don't think I ever ordered anything other than the crab and lobster pasta, which is not on the menu, but is ALWAYS on the specials board. So, linguistically, it wasn't really a special and was more of a regular. Maybe they just really wanted to avoid having their menus reprinted. Or no one could reach the chalkboard to write new specials

When I found a bag of frozen langoustines (aka Norwegian lobsters!) at Trader Joe's, I wanted to give them the Otello's crab pasta treatment. I don't know if its exactly like the original, but it tasted good, so who cares? I know the photo looks saucy, but the sauce is really good, so sop it up with some bread.

Spicy creamy langoustine pasta
Serves 2

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
2 teaspoons flour
2/3 cup white wine1 1/2 cups fire roasted crushed tomatoes
1/3 cup half and half
salt and pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
12 oz. bag cooked frozen langoustines (or chopped shrimp or lobster)
1/2 pound spaghetti or fettucine

Boil a large pot of water for the pasta. Cook pasta to al dente.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil and butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Cook the garlic for a minute or so, then add the red pepper flakes, stirring for 30 seconds. Whisk in the flour, stirring constantly for two minutes. Add the white wine and cook for another two minutes. Stir in the tomatoes and let it come to a bubble. Add the langoustines, half and half, salt and pepper to taste, and dried basil. When the langoustines are heated through and the sauce is hot, add the pasta to the skillet. Serve with bread to scoop up all that good sauce.

Bonus photo! Fresh langoustines from a summer trip to Scotland.

We had a little lamb

I used to love watching Crossing Jordan on Sunday nights. Her dad had the best accent! But he was usually in hiding because I think he was kind of a shady character. People were always trying to kill him, and then Jordan would try and rescue him by going out to the pier alone at night. Oh Jordan. She never learned. Once she fell down an abandoned mine shaft that started filling up with water. And she was a medical examiner! It made no sense - which was why it was so awesome. A couple times NBC (who I'm totally mad at right now - Team Conan!) did a Crossing Jordan/Las Vegas crossover. Which I never watched. Well, I watched the Jordan parts, but not when Jordan was on Las Vegas. Anyway, so now I'm doing a crossover with my friend Emily, who has a delightful blog called Wild and Crazy Pearl. She and her superfun sister Rebecca came over for dinner - which had to be scheduled a month in advance because they are both very cool and know lots of people and are always doing fun things (I, on the other hand, am not cool, know only 12 people, and will be spending my Friday night putting together Ikea furniture) - and we ate and drank and much merriment was had by all.

Even though lamb isn't really a game meat, people sometimes say that it tastes game-y. So I'm including it in game meat week. (See also: it's my blog and I can do what I want.) Plus it's cute and cuddly like the rabbit from the other day's post.

Lamb with pici, from Mario Batali's Molto Italiano
Serves 6 (he says it serves 4, but we had loads leftover)


Lamb ragu
4 oz. pancetta, chopped
olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1 fennel bulb, chopped (you can chop and add the fronds if you like)
1 carrot, chopped
1 bunch of basil, picked from the stems, and roughly chopped
1 lb. of freshly ground lamb shoulder (yes, I put mine in the meat grinder)
salt and pepper
1 cup white wine
1 1/2 cups tomato sauce (either homemade, or the simple stuff in a can in the tomato aisle)

Pici (a type of pasta)
2 cups semolina flour
2 cups all-purpose flour
1-1 1/4 cups water, room temperature

To serve
Ample amounts of grated Parmesan cheese


Heat a little bit of olive oil in a sturdy dutch oven and add the chopped pancetta. Once it browns, add the onion, fennel, carrot and basil and cook until the veggies are softened, stirring frequently. Add the lamb and continue to stir to allow all the lamb to brown. Season with salt and pepper. Deglaze the pan with the wine, making sure to scrape up those browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the tomato sauce, and stir to combine. Lower the heat to a simmer, cover, and let it cook for at least an hour. Stir occasionally.


To make the noodles, mound the flours on a really large cutting board or countertop. Make a well in the center, and slowly add some water. Swirl in the water with your finger, but still maintain the well-like shape. Add some more water, swirl, etc., etc., until you form a dough. (The amount of water will depend on how humid your kitchen is.) Knead the dough for 10 minutes. Note: this dough is REALLY stiff, and kneading the dough will likely be exhausting. You may need to take a shower afterwards. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and let it stand for at least 10 minutes before proceeding.

Okay, so now you've rested from all that kneading. Pinch off a 1-inch ball of dough and roll it between your hands to make a snake of dough. This seems like it should be easy - I mean, who hasn't done this same thing with play-doh? But, again, the dough is stiff, and it will seem like quite a process. I highly recommend that you recruit at least one other person to do this with you. You want the pici to be about 1/8 - 1/4 inch in diameter. You'll have long snakes of dough, so cut them into 3-5 inch pieces for easier eating.

To cook the noodles, place in salted boiling water until tender, about 5 minutes. Toss with the sauce, and serve with the Parmesan cheese.

What about cauliflower? Nothing about cauliflower.

Exactly. Nothing about cauliflower. It's one of the very few vegetables I won't eat. I highly doubt this blog will ever discuss cauliflower. Or gnomes. Nothing about gnomes either.

You know what I will talk about? Incessantly, actually? Eggplant. I will likely write the Song of Solomon to eggplant. It's so versatile. Italian, Indian, Asian, classic American, and Mediterranean cuisines all love the mighty eggplant. My dear friend Elsa (who until the past year has never lived more than 1.5 miles away) and I probably talk about the latest thing we've done with eggplant about 60% of the time we talk on the phone or via e-mail. So, Els, here's a really good eggplant recipe.

Roasted eggplant pizza
Serves 3-4

1 medium and 1 small eggplant (any variety)
2 big tomatoes
1 head garlic
olive oil
salt and pepper
1 lb. of pizza dough (I used the whole wheat from Trader Joe's)
1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon basil
2 tablespoons parsley
2 tablespoons green garlic, chives, or green onions
6 oz. fresh mozzarella, sliced

Pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees. Cut the eggplant into 1/4 inch slices and the tomatoes into 1 inch chunks. Brush the eggplant slices lightly with olive oil and place them in a single layer on a baking sheet. Liberally salt and pepper the eggplant. Put the tomato chunks on a separate baking sheet with just a drizzle of olive oil and salt and pepper. Peel the outermost paper off of the garlic head. Put the whole head in a piece of foil, drizzle with about a teaspoon of olive oil, and wrap it up tight in the foil. Put the tray of eggplant, tray of tomatoes, and the foil-wrapped garlic in the oven. Roast until tender, about 18-20 minutes for eggplant, 10 for tomatoes, and 30-40 for garlic. Midway through each roasting time, flip the eggplant and stir up the tomatoes. Let everything cool to a reasonable temperature.

Squeeze the garlic out of its paper into a mini-chopper or food processor. Add the 1/3 cup basil, parsley, and green garlic, and pulse to make a paste.

Roll out the pizza dough and place on a baking sheet that is lightly oiled. Spread the garlic paste all over. Lay the eggplant slices on top, followed by the tomato chunks. Top with the mozzarella. Bake in a 450 degree oven for about 15 minutes. Garnish with remaining tablespoon of basil.

Step 47: Vogue.

Two years ago my husband and I tried to grow tomatoes on the windowsill of our apartment. We bought a cherry tomato plant in late spring and watered it, sang it lullabies, and generally loved it to pieces. Come mid-summer, we saw little blossoms! How exciting! Our baby was having a baby! But then only like three of the blossoms became tomatoes. And a bird ate one. So, after a whole summer of devotion, we had two wee tiny cherry tomatoes. It was so sad. So, I don't garden. Yet. But, if I did, I would plant loads of plum tomato plants to make sauce. It tastes so summery and delicious, and since my recipe can go in the freezer, you can take it out in January and remember that there is a time when the sun shines more that 5 hours a day.

So, as per my usual summer ritual, I bought a giant basket of yellow plum tomatoes. You could totally do this recipe with regular red plum tomatoes. The key is more that they are VERY ripe. There are about a badillion different ways to make sauce, but I think Lidia Bastianich, an Italian grandmother-y type who has a great show on PBS, does a damn fine job of it. Plus she's so thorough with her instructions, if you screw up you only have yourself to blame. This recipe is more or less based on hers.

Summer Tomato Sauce
Makes 3 quarts of sauce

8 pounds ripe plum tomatoes
1/4 cup olive oil
3 onions, chopped
2 teaspoons salt
5 large cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon hot pepper flakes
a bunch of basil (about 8-10 sprigs), including stems

Ooh, you think you're ready to cook! Ha! First you have to do the hard part - preparing the tomatoes!

Preparing tomatoes
Set a large pot of water to boil.

Make an ice bath in a large bowl by combining two trays of ice cubes and cold water. Next to that set a colander.

Using a slotted spoon or a spider, set about 8-9 tomatoes in the boiling water for about a minute. Take them out using the spoon or spider, and put them in the ice water to stop the cooking. Once they are cool, put them in the colander to make room for the next batch. Repeat with all of the tomatoes.

Once all your tomatoes are in the colander, prepare two more large bowls. In the first one, set a fine mesh wire strainer.

Working over the bowl with a strainer in it, take one blanched tomato at a time. Remove the skin with either your fingers or the aid of a paring knife. (I think it's easier to just use my paws.) Drop the skin in the strainer. Squeeze the tomato so the juices and seeds fall into the strainer. (You will end up squirting yourself in the eye many times.) Drop the whole tomato into the other bowl. Repeat for 8 pounds worth of tomatoes.


Take a rubber spatula and press the skins and seeds into strainer to extract as much juice as possible. (Sometimes the juice gets stuck up there with all the skins, and you might have to do this partway through the process as well.) Reserve all the juice, and discard the skins and seeds.

Sauce, continued

Okay, back to making sauce.

Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large sturdy dutch oven. Cook the onions until translucent, trying not to let them brown, about 7 minutes. Add a teaspoon of salt. Turn the heat down if it seems like they are cooking too fast.

Clear a little space in the onions, and add the minced garlic and hot pepper flakes directly onto the bottom of the pot. Let them cook for about a minute, then stir into the onions. If things are starting to stick a bit, add a couple of tablespoons of water to loosen things up, scraping the bottom with a rubber spatula.

Add all the tomatoes and juice. Rinse your tomato bowl with about a cup of water, and then toss that into the soup pot too. Add the remaining teaspoon of salt and stir everything together. Put your basil sprigs, stems and all, into pot.

Cover, and let it come to a boil. Turn it down to low (so it is just simmering), and keep it covered, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes. Your tomatoes should be beginning to break down at this point.

Let the sauce simmer, uncovered, for about an hour, or until it becomes as thick as you like it. Continue to stir occasionally. Once it's gotten to a thickness you're happy with, turn off the heat and pull out the basil sprigs. (You don't have to worry about every little leaf, but no one wants to eat an entire basil stem.) Sometimes I use my handheld blender to make it a little smoother, but that's up to you.

Eat what you want now, and store the rest in the freezer for using mid-winter. Don't try to can this sauce - you have to have the correct pH balance to can tomatoes to make sure you don't get botulism.

What all sandwiches should aspire to be

This sandwich was so damn good I'm sure I will be pining for it mid-winter. And it was really easy to make and packed really well to take to work for lunch. Well, I'm currently between jobs, but that's what my husband said. We ate it for two days, and was just as good on the second day, although the bread was getting a little softer.

I based my recipe off of "A Big Tomato Sandwich" from Local Flavors by Deborah Madison.


Tomato Sandwich
Serves 4

8-12 inch round loaf (I used a black olive thyme loaf from Firehook, a bakery in my 'hood.)
2 or more big ripe tomatoes (I used 2 big heirlooms, a Brandywine and a Nebraska Wedding)
1 red pepper, roasted, peeled, and chopped
3.5 ounces goat cheese
6 slices Genoa salami from the deli
Herb vinaigrette (below)

Slice the top third off the loaf of bread. Pull out the inside crumbs of the top and bottom bread to make the loaf hollow. Brush the herb vinaigrette on the inside of the bread, then layer with tomato, pepper, cheese and more vinaigrette. Make a layer of salami and then push down to pack it in tight. Repeat with remaining ingredients. Put the bread "hat" back on. Wrap it in foil, then smoosh down the top to get it all nice and packed in. Cut it into 4 pieces, and share with people who you really like. (If you are taking it for lunch, only cut as many pieces as you'll use that day. Wrap it in foil for easy transporting.)

Herb vinaigrette

1/4 cup basil leaves
1/4 cup chopped garlic chives (you could also finely mince a clove of garlic)
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
1/3 cup olive oil
4 teaspoons red wine vinegar
salt and pepper

Whisk all the vinaigrette ingredients together.

It's tomato soup served ice cold!

I love gazpacho. It tastes like summer. But the funny thing about making your own farm-fresh gazpacho is that the ingredients aren't really at their peak until late August or September. It's almost like nature is pointing and laughing at you, because right when you're ready for fall, it is giving up the summer bounty. Luckily, gazpacho-wise, it is usually boiling hot and humid in DC well through September.

I used to think that I had to really earn the deliciousness of gazpacho by chopping every ingredient by hand into a teeny tiny dice. And I did that lots of times. But then I went to my friend Kathryn's house and she had made the gazpacho from Barefoot Contessa. I was a little skeptical and judgy, because I knew Barefoot's recipe involved a food processor. But, alas, it was still chunky and delicious! I was won over. It's now my go-to gazpacho guide.

Gazpacho
Serves 4-5

1 cucumber (not the waxy skinned kind, the long and skinny kind), halved and seeded but not peeled, cut into chunks
1 red pepper, cored and seeded, cut into chunks
4 tomatoes (I used heirlooms: 3 green zebras and a Mr. Stripey), cut into chunks
1 red onion, cut into chunks
3 garlic cloves, chopped
24 oz. tomato juice (3 cups)
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 tablespoon salt
fresh black pepper, to taste

Put each vegetable into the food processor one at a time. Pulse until it is finely chopped. After you chop each veggie, toss it in a big bowl. Add the tomato juice, vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Chill before serving.