Recently I came across the new issue of the Runcible Spoon and I was reminded of two things. First, how much I like that zine. So much spirit and talent flows through those pages. Plus, how retro! A printed zine. Reminds me of the good old days. Second, I remembered that I had shared this recipe for mussels with the Runcible Spoon in their Spring issue. I reprinting the recipe here to share, but you should check out the beautiful illustration the oh so talented Maleka Gharib did for the recipe.
On Saturday, after I made my zucchini "spread the love bread," I had about one pound of shredded zucchini left over. Not enough for another loaf of bread, but too much to toss. I asked myself what the Canal House ladies would do (WWTCHLD?) and of course they would make zucchini fritters for lunch. So that's just what I did. I used this recipe.
One of the most important steps in making zucchini fritters is to wring out the water that oozes from the shredded zucchini after it's shredded and salted. Otherwise you end up with soggy fritters that are impossible to crisp. Usually wringing out the water is done with a cheesecloth, but I didn't have one so I used paper towels. Paper towels work equally well. The problem is that you have to use about eight sheets, so after you are done you feel like you just exploited Brazil's rain forest. Note to self, I bet the Canal House ladies have a whole drawer full of cheesecloths.
If you are not reading it, you must: Canal House Cooks Lunch. It's like a daily horoscope for people who love food.
Also: top your zucchini fritters with this or this. You will thank me later.
Having an 9-month old daughter is wonderful, no doubt, but there's a down side to everything. A limited social life is one of them. In my mind, some day, when they release me from nap prison and early bed time purgatory, I will throw a great dinner party. I will serve Spanish tapas and these mushrooms will be on the menu. So will this dish. We will listen to Ojos de Brujo and drunkenly try a go at flamenco dancing. Until then, I'll enjoy these buttons of garlicky goodness for lunch (like escargot without the snails!)
Is it rude to say that I love daylight savings time? Like, hey guys, I'm not really sorry about that lost hour everyone is complaining about. Isn't it worth it for the sun in the morning? Do you hear the birds, people? Do you see the cherry blossom blooms out your window? Spring is just around the corner. Get up and face the day, as my mother used to say.
What a nice morning. Josie and I ate our breakfast. I had olive bread toast, with smashed avocados, crumbled pistachios, a pinch of sea salt, and a drizzle of olive oil. (The dish is inspired by Cork, a tiny restaurant on 14th street, where these little toasts and a glass of Muscadet can fill you up with happiness until it's brimming out of our pores). Josie had milk, of course. Then she took a nap and I finished Mindy Kaling's book, which made me giggle out loud. So much so that Marcus inquired about what I was reading.
My second cooking date with Yotam didn't go as well as the first. I made his take on baba ganoush, which is similar to this recipe, but calls for the addition of pomegranate molasses and is a little heavy handed with the tahini. I have to admit, I was quite taken with decorating my dip with pomegranate seeds. So pretty. Like this lady's ruby slippers. But, it turns out, that I didn't much like the sweetness of the pomegranate molasses, an ingredient I bought specifically for this dish (Thank you H Mart). You might like it though. Do you love pomegranate? Then this one might be worth a try. I think I'll stick with Christopher Kimball for my baba ganoush. That said, I'm still interested in pursuing Yotam in the kitchen and am looking forward to a third date! Plus, now I have to think about ways to use my pomegranate molasses. Do you have any ideas?
I have a mad crush on Yotam Ottolenghi. His book, Plenty, is so gorgeous that it's hard not to fall under his spell, smitten by caper mayonnaise and cardamom rice. I've had his book for a year now, but all we've done is lay around in bed together. What can I say, I'm a cookbook slut. This weekend, I finally committed: page 56, stuffed portobello with melting taleggio. Yes, it was a low commitment cooking date.
I'm a big fan of Cava Mezze, a local restaurant mini chain that began in Rockville and now has outposts on Capitol Hill and in Clarendon. This growing and benevolent empire has a product line made up of tasty dips that you can buy at Whole Foods. You already know I'm a fan of the harrisa. This week at Whole Foods, the sample lady (my favorite kind of lady) offered me a bite of Tzatziki served on Stacy's Pita chips. Tart, creamy yogurt with bits of garlic, dill, and cucumber. Sold.
Sure, I can make my own. But sometimes it so much better to buy it right off the shelf. Like, for example, when you would rather lay in bed and watch Something Borrowed, a terrible movie featuring my make believe boyfriend John Krasinski.
I'm really into Greek yogurt these days. After searching for the perfect tzatziki recipe, I decided to abandon the internets and develop my own. I wanted something fresh and garlicky that had a little bit of texture. I also didn't want to spend time draining yogurt or pulling the water out of cucumbers and, therefore, was willing to put up with a lighter consistency.
This version was a hit in my house. Marcus practically finished the bowl by picking it up and drinking it like cereal milk after all the cereal is gone.
Now that I think about it, drinking the milk at the end of the cereal bowl gives me the willies. Too sweet and murky. I also don't like wooden utensils like chopsticks (metal ones are fine) or eating a popcicle off a stick. There is something about the wood texture touching my tongue. Does this make me insane?
