Zucchini parmigiana sandwiches.

Zucchini is back! And early tomatoes, among other things, and my fridge is full of all the edible colours and I am delighted. I’ve started buying large amounts of things to turn into freezer meals for when I no longer have the energy to feed myself or the ability to reach the stove, which should happen right around the end of the harvest season. I am in the process of assembling zucchini parmigiana in foil containers (no dishes!), and had extra bits, and thought they’d be quite excellent in sandwiches.

For the sandwiches, I fried the zucchini instead of roasting it, and used leftover marinara sauce. You can make it fresh, if you like – I quite like this one from Smitten Kitchen with a bit of fresh basil – or you can use whatever you have hanging around in your fridge or pantry. Something simple with onions, garlic, tomatoes, and herbs should do just fine. Any plain sandwich bun will do, and whole wheat would probably be nice.

These smell fabulously summery, and in spite of their crispy fried bits and garlic-toasty top half, they’re pretty light. The tomatoes and basil play well with the breaded zucchini, and there is just the tiniest bit of spice from the Tabasco and red pepper flakes. They would be excellent with cold beer or red wine, and beg to be eaten on a patio in the sunshine. Maybe your Meatless Monday is warm and summery? We had to make do with pretend as it’s been damp and grey around here, but these certainly brightened our moods.

Zucchini parmigiana sandwiches

(Serves six to eight.)

  • 8 buns, such as Kaiser or Calabrese
  • 1 lb. zucchini, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds (about 24 pieces)
  • 3 large eggs, beaten
  • 1 tsp. Tabasco or other hot sauce
  • 1 cup panko
  • Zest of one lemon
  • 3 tbsp. butter, at room temperature
  • 3 tbsp. olive oil
  • 2 cloves garlic, finely minced
  • 1 tsp. red pepper flakes
  • 1 cup marinara sauce
  • 1 cup shredded Provolone
  • 2 tomatoes, thinly sliced
  • 16 basil leaves
  • Salt and pepper, to taste

Slice buns in half horizontally and set aside.

Whisk together eggs and Tabasco. Combine panko with lemon zest, and stir to combine. Dredge zucchini slices first in egg, then in bread crumbs. Fry in a large pan over medium-high heat, in grapeseed or olive oil, until golden, 90 seconds to two minutes per side.

Place on a plate lined with paper towel and sprinkle with salt while still hot.

Preheat oven to broil.

In a small bowl, mush together butter, olive oil, garlic, red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper (taste and adjust seasonings as desired). Divide equally between the eight buns, spreading on the top half only. Place on a large baking sheet.

Place zucchini slices, two to three per bun, on the other half of each bun. Top with two tablespoons each marinara sauce and provolone, and place on the same baking sheet as the top halves.

Place under broiler and cook until cheese has melted and the buttered half has turned golden, two to three minutes.

Finish each sandwich with fresh tomato slices and basil leaves. Serve hot, with lightly dressed greens on the side. Enjoy!

 

Curried apple and Cheddar soup.

Every so often circumstances force us to face unpleasant truths about ourselves. I am fortunate in that I am quite delusional, but over the course of the past week I have come to the stunning realization that I might be just as annoying as anyone else when faced with even the suggestion of illness, and that my dramatics are lost on everyone I’m married to.

As the weight in my sinuses drags me down, I’ve realized that I must feed us real food if we are to survive this thing, even if the idea of cooking in that kitchen that is piled with an unnavigable stack of dirty dishes is so repellent that all I can do is fall into the couch to marathon Glee and slurp kimchi ramen out of a Styrofoam bowl and whine about how no one really loves me or he’d throw out everything we own and go to the store to buy new, clean stuff so we could start over and maybe also give the floor a wash and fold that pile of laundry that’s lived a week on the sofa that gets wrinklier and covered in more and more cat hair every day. Also it would be good if someone would make me a pot of tea and find me my lip balm.

Cheese soup might not be the healthiest thing we could do for ourselves at this tissue-littered time, but it’s restorative in that it contains all of the calories I have not been getting by only consuming bowls of cereal, instant ramen, and juice since my face decided to protest health. It’s an easy meatless meal, and despite its half-pound of delicious aged Cheddar and its scandalous amount of cream, there are good things in it. The carrots aren’t just for colour.

Curried apple and Cheddar soup

(Serves four to six.)

  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 2 cups diced carrot (about four)
  • 2 cups diced apple (such as Granny Smith, about two large)
  • 3 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1 tbsp. Madras curry powder
  • 2 tsp. salt
  • 1/2 tsp. turmeric
  • 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
  • 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
  • 5 cups water or vegetable stock, or a combination
  • 1/2 lb. sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
  • 1 tbsp. lemon juice
  • 1 cup cream

In a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, melt butter. Sauté onion, carrot, apples, and garlic until golden, three to five minutes. Add curry powder, salt, turmeric, and black and cayenne peppers. Stir to coat.

Add water or stock, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium, and simmer until carrots have softened, 10 to 12 minutes.

Remove from heat and purée using a blender or immersion blender. Return to heat and stir in cheese and lemon juice. Taste, adjust seasonings as needed. Stir in cream, and serve hot, with a sprinkling of additional cayenne pepper, as desired.

Also because it’s been awhile here’s a photo of the cat in the laundry basket that we emptied onto the sofa and then just left in the middle of the living room.

 

 

Yogurt cheese, smoked salmon, and canneloni.

Oh, this week! I don’t know where it’s gone, and I have two modes and two modes only these past seven days: frantic disorganization and head-bobbing lethargy, neither of which has proven to be particularly sustainable. My arthritis is flaring up again, this time with insistence, and Nick’s always talking about his diabetes, and I’m always telling him how much fibre is in things and we both feel 800-years-old.

Also, if the weird loop of incongruous music in my head is any indication, my internal DJ is totally high (when did that song from Aladdin get mashed up with The Beach Boys and why has either crossed my mind?), and I know we must have eaten something Monday and Tuesday, but I can’t figure out what it was. And the mountains are dark behind a scattered mist and the temperature has dropped and there are rumours of snow, even after I snapped photos of little white buds in a patch of dirt in front of a building around the corner just this past Saturday when we were running around having adventures in light jackets.


Anyway. I made yogurt cheese because the yogurt I like was on sale. (Given my current state of mind, that’s as good a transition as any.) I told you about yogurt cheese a long while back – it comes from this wonderful blog. At first it was a perfectly good spread for bagels, but now is so much more.

This would be best if you made it with hand-rolled sheets of fresh pasta. Second best is store-bought sheets of fresh pasta, which is what I used. Third would be those hard canneloni tubes you get in a box in the dry pasta aisle, but I have never been able to handle those without crushing them like so many taco shells. It’ll take about five sheets, each one cut in half so that it is roughly 4″x3″ (those Olivieri ones will work just fine).

And don’t just cheat and use ricotta. With the yogurt and the lemon and the salmon together, the filling is bright and flavourful. The night before you plan to make this, empty a large container of yogurt (750mL) into a strainer lined with cheesecloth. Tie up the edges, and hang it over the sink overnight (with a bowl underneath to catch  the whey, which is a fantastic addition to soups and bread). Instructions with photos are here. You’ll end up with a little over a cup, maybe a cup and a half, and it should be the consistency of crumbly cream cheese. Refrigerate the stuff until you’re ready to use it.

Smoked salmon canneloni with yogurt cheese

(Serves four.)

Pasta

  • 5 sheets fresh pasta, 8″x6″ (approximately)
  • 1 tbsp. butter
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 leek, 1″ thick, white and light-green part only, chopped
  • 1 batch yogurt cheese (about 1 1/4 cup)
  • 1/2 cup smoked salmon, flaked and packed
  • Zest and juice of one lemon
  • 1/4 cup parsley
  • 1/2 tsp. salt, or to taste
  • 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
  • 1 egg, beaten

Sauce

  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, diced
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
  • 1/2 cup light cream
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Melt butter in a pan over medium-high heat. When bubbling, add leek and garlic. Cook for one minute, until garlic is fragrant and leek has brightened in colour. Remove from heat.

In a medium bowl, mush together yogurt cheese, smoked salmon, and lemon zest and juice. Use a fork – the best mushing is usually done with a fork. Pour buttery garlicky leeks into the bowl, and add parsley, salt, and pepper, stir, and taste. Adjust seasonings as needed. When you like what you’re tasting, stir in the egg. Set aside.

Ready pasta for rolling according to package instructions. For store-bought fresh pasta, you may need to soak it for a couple of minutes in cold water. Trim to about 4″x3″.

Bring light cream to just a simmer. Remove from heat. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic, and cook until translucent. Add crushed tomatoes. Once the tomatoes begin to burble and steam, reduce heat to medium and carefully stir in cream, slowly and in a steady stream, stirring until fully incorporated. Remove from heat.

Coat the bottom of a glass or enameled 9″x13″ baking dish with a thin layer of sauce.

Scoop 1/4 cup filling into the centre of each piece of pasta. Roll into loose cylinders, and place side by side into the pan. Once you have run out of room on the first layer, coat the tops with sauce, and continue laying rolls in a second layer. Coat the whole thing with remaining sauce, then cover with aluminum foil.

Bake covered for 35 minutes, then remove foil and cook uncovered for an additional 10 minutes. Serve sprinkled with fresh parsley.

I served the pasta over a bed of wilted chard, which turned out to be a nice way to balance the flavours of the dish, the earthiness of the greens tempering the acidity and smoke of the pasta. It would also go nicely with salad.

Beet risotto.

Last year we didn’t do much about Valentine’s Day because we’d just gotten Molly the Cat and felt an urgency to be home with our cute little ball of fur. I don’t think we’ve ever done much about Valentine’s Day; the sentiment is nice but I feel sort of silly about it. It’s just the two of us all the time, you know?

We’ll go out later this week, when the restaurants are quiet and we’re not surrounded by moon-eyed couples sitting on the same side of the booth, which makes me irrationally angry, which is the opposite of how you’re supposed to feel on February 14. Seriously – can’t they hear each other chew when they sit like that, and doesn’t that just shoot the romance right in the foot?

But I do like a good theme. So tonight, even if we weren’t celebrating, we did recognize the day, and Meatless Monday, with a plate of lusty, blood-red risotto. It was both virtuous and decadent, with its vegetable stock and beets and butter and Manchego cheese, and it came together in the 30 minutes Nick spent tidying the kitchen. Add a little red wine on the side, and there’s no better way I can think of to spend a Monday Valentine’s Day.

Beet risotto with Manchego

  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • 2 tbsp. butter, divided
  • 1/2 tsp. red chili flakes
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup arborio rice
  • 1 tsp. smoked paprika
  • 1/2 cup dry red wine
  • 1 medium beet, peeled and finely shredded
  • 3 to 4 cups warm vegetable stock
  • 1/2 cup shredded Manchego cheese
  • Salt and pepper, to taste
  • Handful chopped fresh parsley

Heat stock until boiling, then reduce heat and maintain a gentle simmer.

In a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat, heat oil and melt the first tablespoon of butter with the red chili flakes. Add onions and garlic, and cook for two to three minutes, until onions are translucent. Add paprika and rice to pan, stirring for about a minute, or until rice grains turn opaque. Add the wine.

Add shredded beets, and cook until wine has been completely absorbed.

Add one cup of the warm vegetable stock, stirring frequently until liquid is mostly absorbed. Repeat with an additional cup of stock, and then repeat again with one to two more cups as needed. Test your rice for tenderness – if it is al denté, great. If it isn’t, just pour in a little bit more stock, as needed, and let it absorb into the rice. I almost always need the full four cups of stock.

When rice is ready, stir in butter and Manchego cheese. Taste, and adjust seasonings quickly, as needed. Stir in parsley, and serve hot, with additional Parmesan cheese and a light sprinkling of chopped fresh parsley.

And Happy Valentine’s Day. However you did or did not celebrate it, I hope you had a lovely evening and ate something you really liked, in the company of someone you really like, whether it was you alone or with someone else.

 

Vegetarian hominy casserole.

I don’t know what’s brought it about, but lately I have been really excited about all things TexMex, even though I’m still not entirely sure what that means. And casseroles. We’ve had rain for days here, and the only thing I really want to eat is bowls of brown sugary oatmeal for breakfast and pans of melted cheese for dinner. I am so grateful for leggings and loose tops right now, and hope that stretch denim never goes away.

My understanding of hominy casserole is that it’s a debaucherous combination of corn, cheese, and bacon, and I’ll certainly be making that to go with roast chicken very, very soon. But it’s Meatless Monday, which always feels like an opportunity to get creative. I find that not using bacon as my go-to herb means finding sumptuousness in other ingredients, and in this case, the result is a dish that tastes a bit like nachos: a very good thing. Hominy is a type of corn, and it reminds me of a cross between potatoes and tortilla chips. If you’re in Vancouver, you can buy cans of hominy (white and yellow) at Killarney Market at 49th Avenue and Elliot Street. Everywhere else, check the Latin section of your local market.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera when this was plated. I actually took a photo of the reheated casserole on my desk at work at lunch today, where the microwave melted everything into a gooey puddle of cheese corn. Excellent tasting, but not beautiful.

Hominy casserole

(Serves eight.)

  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 1 shallot, chopped
  • 2 cups frozen corn
  • 1 large red bell pepper
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 1 tsp. chili powder
  • 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
  • 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
  • 1/4 tsp. ground cayenne pepper
  • 2 28 oz. cans hominy (I used white and gold for colour)
  • 2 cups sour cream
  • Zest and juice of one lime
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley (or cilantro)
  • 8 oz. shredded Monterrey Jack cheese
  • 4 oz. shredded Cheddar cheese, plus an additional handful or two to top

Preheat your oven to 400°F. Lightly butter a 9″x13″ baking dish.

In a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat, melt butter. Add shallot and corn, and caramelize until golden brown, stirring regularly for about ten minutes. Deglaze the pan with about 1/4 cup of water, scraping the browned bits off the bottom. Add bell pepper, garlic, salt, chili powder, cumin, pepper, and cayenne, and sauté for an additional two minutes.

Meanwhile, drain and rinse hominy. Combine hominy in a large bowl with sour cream, lime zest and juice, parsley or cilantro (or a combination), and both kinds of cheese. Pour pan contents into the bowl, and stir to combine. Taste, adjust seasonings as needed, and pour into your prepared dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top, and bake until bubbly and golden, about 20 minutes.

Serve with salsa and salad.

Oh, and because it’s Meatless Monday all over the Internets, visit the Midnight Maniac blog carnival for all sorts of other fabulous vegetarian recipes!

Cauliflower macaroni and cheese.

Cauliflower is one of my favourite vegetables, probably second only to potatoes. My grandma used to steam a whole head of it, cover it in drawn butter sauce, and stud the thing with toasted slivered almonds, and it was so delicious and I would have to fight some of the other relatives for it, and one year at Christmas dinner I won and ate so much I thought I was going to die. On a related note, I think I’m missing the thing that tells you, “You’re full, dumbass – stop eating.”

Cheese is also quite excellent with cauliflower, which you likely know by now. And if you throw in a bit of pasta, it’s a meal! Some nuts for crunch, and you have a 9″x13″ masterpiece, which will feed a family, or if there’s just the two of you, like there’s just the two of us, you’ll have dinner and lunch the next day, and possibly the day after that.

I’m participating in Midnight Maniac’s ninth Meatless Monday blog carnival today, so after you’re done learning new bad habits over here (Meatless Monday is about health? I’m doing it wrong.), hop on over there and say hello, and check out some of the other bloggers’ fantastic Meatless Monday recipes.

Cauliflower macaroni and cheese

(Serves four.)

  • 3 lbs. cauliflower, cut into florets
  • 2 cups uncooked macaroni
  • 3 cloves minced garlic, divided
  • 3 tbsp. butter, divided
  • 3 tbsp. flour
  • 2 tsp. Dijon mustard
  • 2 cups milk
  • 1/2 tsp. ground pepper
  • 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
  • 6 oz. aged white Cheddar, grated (about four cups)
  • Salt, to taste
  • 1/4 cup hazelnuts, toasted and then chopped
  • 1 cup bread crumbs

Preheat your oven to 375°F. Grease a 9″x13″ baking dish, and set it aside.

Place cauliflower in a large pot, fill to just over the top of the cauliflower with salted water, and bring to a boil. Boil for five minutes, drain, then set aside.

Meanwhile, bring a pot filled with the macaroni to a boil, and cook until almost al dente, five or six minutes. Drain and pour the noodles in with the cauliflower.

In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, melt butter with two of the minced garlic cloves. When it’s bubbling, add the flour and mustard, and stir until a paste forms. Add milk, and whisk to combine. Turn heat down to medium. Add pepper and cayenne pepper, and simmer until thickened, stirring occasionally, about five minutes.

Add most of the cheese, save for a handful. Taste, and add salt as needed. Stir and pour over top macaroni and cauliflower. Add hazelnuts, and stir mixture to coat cauliflower and pasta in sauce.

Pour into prepared pan. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Meanwhile, over medium-high heat, melt one tablespoon of butter with the last clove of garlic. When the butter has foamed, add bread crumbs, and stir to coat. Cook until butter is absorbed and pan looks dry, about two minutes. Pour over top of macaroni mixture.

Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until sauce is bubbly and crumbs have turned golden. Serve to adulation. This is creamy, cheesy, and crunchy, thanks to the nuts and the crumb topping. It’s texturally pleasing, and it’s hard to go wrong with that much cheese. Maybe serve with something green or otherwise colourful, because it’s a rather neutral-coloured dish. Fortunately, the taste is much brighter. Serve with beer or ice cold milk.

Tamale pie with black beans and red peppers.

Nick’s birthday was last week, and to celebrate we went out to the Tiki Bar at the newly renovated Waldorf Hotel. It was snowing, so I drove so I could still wear cute shoes and eschew a warmer, frumpier coat in favour of something that went better with my outfit. For awhile, the outfit was perfectly acceptable, because on a night like that there’d have been no reason to go outside.

I don’t know what happened.

Somehow, Nick’s friends decided that The Waldorf wasn’t fun anymore, and because it was Nick’s birthday and I drove them, I went along with their new plan to go to some house party on Commercial Drive. We parked the car at his friends’ house, because they said the party was within walking distance – closer than possibly having to park somewhere out of the way, I was assured – and on a warmer night, it might have been. First we walked several blocks to Commercial Drive, and then we headed south. I wasn’t wearing socks inside my stilettos, and my coat only buttoned halfway.

It was a 25-minute walk, and the snow was already several inches thick on the ground. And while Nick’s veins had been warmed by tequila before we left the bar, mine had not. This caused a variety of predictable problems for us as we plodded along.

I remember telling Nick I was going to stab him in the face and leave him to bleed or freeze to death in the snow. A few minutes later, we got to where we were going.

There was a $10 cover for each person, and as we climbed the stairs to the house, I realized that I am far less open-minded than I thought I was. The unmistakable stink of incense wafted down from the front door to the first landing on the stairs up, and when we got inside, we were instructed to remove our shoes. A sign informed guests that there would be no alcohol permitted in the house or outside of it.

This was the sort of place where I would be inclined to drink heavily. In a room with a beaded doorway, a woman warbled poetry and played what I think was a sitar, but it might have been that someone was stepping repeatedly on a cat, or a herd of cats – there was no way to be certain without going into the room, and I am uncomfortable sharing my personal space with a lot of strangers. On the back porch, an erotic cuddle puddle seemed to be forming, and downstairs, there was a performance I’m pretty sure included interpretive dance. I was in hell.

So we left. And we walked, again, in the snow until I was sure my toes would blacken with frostbite and fall right off. When we finally got home, I crawled into my fleece footie pajamas and drank tea so hot it was still boiling in the mug. When I woke up the next morning, I noticed a scratch in my throat, and by Monday, the cold was going full-bore.

This week is for very thick socks, sensible outerwear, and comfort food. Tonight I made a big pan of tamale pie, which is essentially Shepherd’s Pie with cornmeal instead of potatoes. I used a base I adapted from Homesick Texan’s Mexican Chorizo recipe; what resulted was a huge dish of food, one that will last as long as I need soothing, which, given the chill still haunting my toes and the cold fogging up my brain, might be a long time.

Tamale pie

(Serves six.)

  • 1 onion, halved
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 1 7 oz. can chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
  • 1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar
  • 1 tsp. cumin
  • 1/2 tsp. ground coriander
  • 1/2 tsp. dried oregano
  • 1/4 tsp. cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
  • 2 tsp. salt
  • 1 lb. ground pork
  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • 2 cups chopped red bell pepper
  • 1 19 oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes
  • 1 5.5 oz. can tomato paste
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
  • 4 cups water
  • 1 cup cornmeal
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1/4 cup butter, cold
  • 2 eggs, beaten
  • 1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Chop one half of the onion, and place in a food processor or blender with garlic, chipotle peppers, vinegar, cumin, coriander, oregano, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, and salt. Blend until smooth.

Place pork in a bowl, and pour the blended pepper mixture over top. Mush the meat and the liquid together with your hands until combined. Wash your hands.

Mince the other half of the onion, and heat it in olive oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. Add peppers, and saute until they’ve begun to sweat. Add meat, breaking it apart with a wooden spoon, and then add black beans, and both kinds of tomatoes. Simmer until liquid has reduced, about 10 minutes. Stir the mixture regularly while it simmers. Add cilantro, and remove from heat.

Meanwhile, bring four cups of salted water to a boil over high heat. Whisk cornmeal in, and reduce heat to medium, whisking frequently until thickened, three to five minutes. Remove from heat.

Stir in butter, then eggs. Keep the mixture moving as you add the eggs so that they don’t scramble and ruin everything. Add cheese.

Pour meaty mixture into a 9″x13″ baking dish. Pour the cornmeal mixture over top of the meaty, beany pepper mixture.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until golden on top and bubbling around the sides. Let rest five to 10 minutes before serving, so that the topping can set. Serve with sour cream or thick yogurt.

Meatball soup with kale and chickpeas.

Our apartment faces north, and when there aren’t clouds over the North Shore you can see the mountains over the rooftops of the buildings across the way, and it’s very nice except when you look down and then it’s mostly just alley. A tree blocks the light from the living room window, which faces east, and the only two other windows on that side are in the bathroom and the bedroom, and there the blinds are always drawn because it’s possible to see into at least ten other apartment bedrooms from there. Lately, there hasn’t been much light, and this place feels dark. At night it’s nice, because our rooms are not very well lit, so the yellow light of a few table lamps creates warmth, and the glow of a few candles makes us seem more attractive. But during the day, lately it’s just been grey.

November is an ugly month. It’s the warm-up to the holiday season but the sparkle isn’t here yet, and I’m impatient. I want glitter, not rotting leaves, and Christmas songs and puddle-free sidewalks that shimmer with fresh frost, and to be able to wear my sweater with the reindeer on it already. I don’t like dark hallways or radiators that tick like bombs. There is a chill, for sure, and the smell of snow in the air, though none has fallen yet. I don’t want to do anything but sit around in my flannel pajamas and eat soup.

Fortunately, this is an easy, hearty soup recipe, with meatballs for comfort, kale for health, and chickpeas because I love them. It’s best if you make your own stock; it’s not mandatory, but the smell of bones and veggies and herbs simmering in your kitchen for an hour or two is comforting, and will do magnificent things for your mood some drab November evening. This will come together pretty quickly; if you make the meatballs ahead of time you can have this steaming in bowls on your table in under fifteen minutes.

Kale and meatball soup

(Serves six to eight)

Meatballs

(Makes about 30)

  • 1 lb. lean ground beef
  • 1/2 cup dry bread crumbs
  • 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 2 cloves minced garlic
  • 1 tbsp. good olive oil
  • 1 egg
  • 1 tbsp. chopped fresh parsley
  • 1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/2 tsp. dried chili flakes
  • 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp. salt

Soup

  • 1 tbsp. good olive oil
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup dry white wine
  • 8 cups beef stock
  • 4 cups (packed) chopped fresh kale (about one bunch)
  • 1 19 oz. can chickpeas
  • 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
  • Salt and pepper, to taste

In a large bowl, combine beef, bread crumbs, cheese, garlic, oil, egg, parsley, Worcestershire sauce, pepper, chili flakes, and salt, and squish the whole thing around with your hands, just enough to mix the ingredients and no more. Roll this into balls about one-inch in diameter – you should end up with 28 to 30 balls.

Meanwhile, sauté onion and garlic in olive oil until translucent. Add wine and stock, and bring to a boil over medium high heat.

When stock begins to boil, reduce heat to medium, and add meatballs. Simmer for five minutes, then add the kale and chickpeas, and simmer for another five minutes. Just before removing from heat to serve, stir in cheese and parsley. Taste, adjust seasonings as needed, and serve with additional grated Parmesan and a few drops of good olive oil.

This is best with crusty bread. Almost all things are.

Chipotle macaroni and cheese.

I’ve been waiting for this day for awhile. It was too hot before, and I didn’t have buttermilk or I was down to just one shriveled chipotle pepper in the bottom of an improperly stored can at the back of the fridge. Or I was feeling self-conscious about my waistline, because I do that sometimes, and instead of joining a gym or sweating I abstain briefly from cheese.

But the stars have aligned, the sky’s clouded over, and I’m wearing lycra so that waistline issue isn’t at the forefront of my mind. And, we have all the things to make chipotle macaroni and cheese. If you’re looking for a healthy treat for this Meatless Monday, I suspect you’d be better off with Kraft, but it’s decadent, and it’s got good stuff in it so it’s not all butter fat and Cheddar.

It contains a lot of little bites of veggies; peppers, onions, and just a little tomato. You could add greens if you wanted to, or more peppers, or corn or beans, or cauliflower or broccoli, both of which are delicious, especially if you roast them first – anything you like, really. If I’m up to no good and want to make you do something for me, I might add bacon, but believe me when I say it doesn’t need it. It contains four cups of cheese.

So here you go. Possibly the world’s most decadent vegetarian recipe. Happy Meatless Monday. You may want to go for a run after this one.

Oh! I joined something called a Blog Carnival. It’s a Meatless Monday thing, and though I don’t yet know what it all means, and I don’t think there are corn dogs in it for me, it’s still sort of cool. Here it is. I’ll figure out the right way to do this soon enough. Anyway. On to the recipe!

Chipotle macaroni and cheese

(Serves four to six, probably with some leftover.)

  • 4 cups dried macaroni
  • 1/4 cup butter
  • 2 cups chopped sweet or bell peppers (any colour you prefer – I had red and orange)
  • 1 cup finely chopped onion
  • 2 to 3 minced chipotle peppers (the kind that come in adobo sauce)
  • 1 to 2 minced jalapeño peppers
  • 1 tbsp. minced garlic
  • 1 tbsp. adobo sauce
  • 1/4 cup flour
  • 1 tsp. ground black pepper
  • 1 tsp. ground cumin
  • 2 cups buttermilk (ideally full-fat)
  • 1/2 cup milk
  • 4 cups grated cheese (such as a combination of sharp Cheddar and Monterrey Jack)
  • Salt, to taste
  • 2 cups diced tomatoes

Preheat your oven to 350°F, and grease a 9″x13″ pan.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

Meanwhile, melt butter in a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat. Add peppers,onion, chipotles, jalapeños, and garlic. Saute until onions have turned translucent and peppers are bright.

Add macaroni to the boiling water, and boil six to eight minutes, until al denté.

Add adobo, then flour to veggies and stir to incorporate. Add pepper and cumin. Then add buttermilk and regular milk, and stir frequently until thickened.

Drain macaroni. Set aside. Add three cups of the cheese to the pot. Stir to combine. Taste, and adjust seasonings as needed.

Pour over drained macaroni, and add tomatoes. Stir well, and then pour into prepared pan. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until top is golden.

Serve hot! And don’t worry about the volume here. It looks like a lot. It IS a lot. But you can cut it into squares tomorrow and then fry it. Fried macaroni and cheese … best leftovers ever?

Risotto and procrastination with currants, orange, and almonds.

Time seems to pass quicker all the time, and before I know it, it’s nearly Thanksgiving again, and hockey’s on TV and I need to have my boots re-heeled and somehow I still haven’t done any of the things I’d planned to by now, and it’s colder so the excuses to not do things get stronger all the time. Why work on that grad school application when I could curl up in my Snuggie with a book? Why finish writing those chapters when I could wander out for hot chocolate, stepping on all the crunchy-looking leaves along the way? Why stay late at work to finish a project when I could go home and make risotto?

Maybe I’m too hard on myself. I have reference letters, and a third of a manuscript together to send in with my MFA application, with a month to go before it’s due. I am writing, and the writing is going well and someday maybe a book will come out of it. And sometimes you just need to decide you can’t stare at a computer screen for even ten more minutes and come home and make risotto.

Maybe I’m too hard on myself, or maybe I’m lying to myself, but either way, it’s important to achieve small things every day so that the big things don’t seem so insurmountable.

The risotto on offer today is one that qualifies for Meatless Monday, but you’ll notice that it’s Tuesday now and there are perfectly pink medallions of pork tenderloin on the plate. Ignore those if you found this via the Meatless Monday website; the risotto is what’s really important here.

Risotto with currants, almonds, and orange

  • 2 tbsp. olive oil
  • 1 medium onion
  • 3 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1/2 cup dried currants
  • 2 tsp. orange zest
  • 2 tsp. chopped fresh rosemary
  • 1 cup arborio rice
  • 1/2 cup dry white wine
  • 1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
  • 3 to 4 cups warm chicken or vegetable stock
  • 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 1/2 cup toasted slivered almonds
  • Salt and pepper, to taste

In a large pan, caramelize the onion in the olive oil. Start with high heat, and then drop the heat down when the bits of onion turn just the faintest bit golden. Brown the hell out of them, stirring often enough, and let them go as long as you can stand it. The browner the better. I left mine in the pan to brown for forty minutes, until the onion was a shadow of its former self. However, I understand that not everyone dreams all day of coming home to make dinner, so go with your own judgment and preference here.

Bring heat back up to medium-high, and add in your garlic, dried currants, orange zest, rosemary, and rice. Cook for about a minute, until rice has begun to turn opaque. De-glaze the pan with the wine and orange juice. Stir the rice continuously until the liquid is absorbed.

Add one cup of the warm chicken stock, stirring frequently until liquid is mostly absorbed. Repeat with an additional cup of stock, and then repeat again with one to two more cups as needed. Test your rice for tenderness. The idea is to get it to al denté, but if it isn’t there yet, just pour in a little bit more stock, as needed, and let it absorb into the rice.

Your currants will have plumped, and the smell will be intoxicating. Add Parmesan cheese and butter. Taste, adjust seasonings as needed. And then, at long last, add almonds.

You can serve this as a main dish to two people, or as a side dish for four. As always, this is a recipe that’s easily multiplied, so if you want to feed four, just double it.

It’s a rich dish. Sweet and savory, creamy with a bit of crunch, earthy with rosemary and deeply browned onions, but bright with citrus and just a hint of wine. Beautiful with gently braised pork or lamb, or perfect on its own, with crusty bread and a few bites of roasted stone fruit. Peaches are just about done, but plums are gorgeous right now. Apples would be nice as well. And you’ll find that once you’ve tackled dinner, everything else becomes a little easier to manage; maybe I will write a chapter this evening, or a cover letter. And there’s always tomorrow, which is reliable as long as you don’t let it dissolve into the next day, and the ones after that.