Monday, December 30, 2013

Control Freaks Can Be Spontaneous Too! Eggplant with Pomegranate Molasses

I have, at various points in my life, been accused of being a control freak. I could dignify these accusations with any number of replies: "I'm plenty of fun." "Someone has to have some idea of what's going on." "I'm not micro-managing, I'm just making sure it's done right." But in my defense, the planning/controlling tendency - which expresses itself as a distinct lack of enthusiasm for spontaneity - is really all about maintaining the ramparts against the forces of Chaos, which overtook my life for a good long while and have a way of insidiously creeping up when you stop paying attention (the current state of my pantry is a great example of this in action).

So I was disproportionately proud of myself for pulling off a last-minute dinner party earlier this week. I'd been promising grapeleaves to a friend and falafel to an aunt, and this seemed like a good time to take care of both of those things, plus get my house clean well in advance of the annual New Year's Eve party. With only 5 hours notice, there was no way that I could be a control-freaking-maniac-overachiever. Granted, we did pull out the good linens and china - but the linens are machine-washable and those were the only plates we had in sufficient number. David and I agreed afterwards that in some ways it was more fun than the parties we plan in advance. I hope our guests agree.

The falafel and grapeleaves and hummous were a given, but I didn't want to serve a protein-only meal. I don't get to eat eggplant very often (the kids don't like it and David can't), so having guests is a perfect excuse for making this particular dish. It doesn't look especially beautiful when you put it on the table - seriously, what do the food stylists do to make everything look so excellent?!?! - but it's a great combination of sweet and tart and creamy, and you can make it in advance and ignore it on the back burner because it tastes good at any temperature. You could serve this with hummous and pita for a quick (vegetarian) dinner you can get on the table in under 30 minutes. Leftovers are excellent over rice or rolled up in a pita.

A word about pomegranate molasses: This is simply pomegranate juice reduced until it's the consistency of molasses - you can't substitute actual pomegranate juice. It's available in Middle Eastern stores and is a surprisingly useful ingredient; I love it in vinaigrette dressings, and it also makes a very beautiful cold drink when you mix it with simple syrup and sparkling water. I resisted buying it for the longest time, but now that it's in my pantry I find all sorts of uses for it.

You may like a different balance of sweet and sour and salty, so tinker around with the ingredients until you find the proportions you like.

Eggplant with Pomegranate Molasses 

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 large eggplant, peeled and cut into half- or quarter-moon slices
1 red onion, cut in half and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons golden raisins or currants
1/2 cup boiling water
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
1 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons honey
salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a frying pan large enough to hold all the eggplant. Saute the eggplants slices until they are golden brown and starting to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the onion and raisins and cook for another 2-3 minutes.

Add the pomegranate molasses, lemon juice, and honey to the boiling water and stir to combine. Pour it over the eggplant, cover the pan, and simmer the mixture 10-15 minutes or until the eggplant is very tender. Season with salt and pepper to taste. If you cook it longer or at a higher heat, the eggplant slices will fall apart and the finished dish will look very soupy; but it's still completely delicious, and those food stylists are control freaks anyway.

Monday, December 23, 2013

These aren't going to make it to Christmas: Peanut Butter Cookies

My family went to go see a local production of the "The Nutcracker" earlier this week. Just before curtain, my brother's girlfriend leaned over to me and said nonchalantly, "I made the best peanut butter cookies the other day. They only have three ingredients."

I'm always a bit skeptical of any so-called recipe with three ingredients (unless it's a drink recipe) because they usually include canned soup, boxed rice mix, and other non-ingredients (OK - cookie recipes don't usually have those things. Bear with me). I love a good shortcut as much as the next person, but I personally believe that "cooking" and "assembling" are two different things. And since we can't eat anything convenient around here anyway, turning up my nose at recipes full of convenience foods makes me feel as if I'm adhering to high standards instead of stuck in food-restricted cooking hell.

Our attempt at cut-out cookies yesterday was a mixed success. The cookies are delicious, and possibly we'll even get around to frosting them at some point (or not; it's an underachieving kind of day). They are not, however, cut-out cookies; the dough was far too soft and sticky to shape, and there were a lot of hard feelings and a half-empty bottle of wine in the kitchen before all was said and done. This didn't exactly inspire me to head back into the kitchen today.

But THIS recipe - exactly as advertised. It does, in fact, have only 3 ingredients. The recipe comes together in the time it takes the oven to preheat. They are utterly, completely, freakin' DELICIOUS - all full of peanutty goodness, not overly sweet, not dry and crumbly. There is absolutely no way that these are going to make it to the family Christmas parties. In fact, I might hide them before David and Anna get home from the orthodontist and eat them all myself.

Peanut Butter Cookies 

1 cup peanut butter (I used regular Jif, since I didn't want to experiment with our $7/jar natural peanut butter)
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten

optional: melted chocolate and a quart of milk

Preheat the oven to 350.

Combine all the ingredients. Roll them into 1-inch balls and place on an ungreased cookie sheet (I smushed them just a little with a spatula; I think this is probably optional). Bake 12 minutes.

Let these cool on the cookie sheet for a couple of minutes before you move them to a cooling rack; if you try to take them off right away, they'll fall apart (into hot, delicious, peanut-buttery crumbs of goodness, btw). Let cool for at least 10 minutes before you eat them - seriously, trust me on this. I ate one (OK, three) when it was hot and the center seemed underdone. Once they sat for a few minutes, they were perfect all the way through.

If you're feeling ambitious, unearth your husband's stash of high-end dark chocolate and melt it, then drizzle it over the cookies or dip half the cookie into it. Or do some of both and arrange them decoratively on a plate, then take a picture that you can't figure out how to upload to your blog.

You are really going to want a big glass of milk with these, too.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Lamb with Rice and Chickpeas

It won’t surprise anyone who’s met me to find that I like to talk to strangers. I meet all sorts of nice and interesting people that way, and I often find that it is indeed a very small world.  While I was hobbling around the fruit market last week (first day off crutches post-injury), I struck up a conversation with the woman standing next to me at the meat counter, who wanted to know what I was doing with the ground lamb. It turns out that she knows my boss, and we ended up at the same craft fair about 20 minutes after our conversation, so I’m especially sad that I can’t remember her name. She’s recently gluten-free and we talked for a bit about the challenges of finding good recipes that are both gluten-free and appealing to picky eaters (I don’t have any myself, but I understand it can be a challenge).

So – nice lady at Western Market – here’s the recipe for lamb with rice and chickpeas, which is one of our fastest, easiest, tastiest weeknight dinners. As long as you have rice cooked in advance, this comes together ridiculously fast; plus it keeps well in the fridge and tastes good at any temperature.

Rooz Ma Lahem (Lamb with Rice and Chickpeas)

5 cups cooked rice
1/2 lb ground lamb
1 medium onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon salt (that’s not a typo)
½ teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon allspice
1/3 teaspoon cinnamon

In a pot, combine the meat, onions, garlic, and spices. Cook until the meat is browned, stirring to break the meat up into small pieces. Add the chickpeas.


Drain any extra meat from the pan (I usually just blot it with a paper towel), add the rice, and stir to mix. 

Friday, December 13, 2013

Liam Loves It: Cabbage and Apples

My kids have pretty broad palates, so I take it for granted that they'll eat whatever we put in front of them (with varying degrees of complaining), since they know that no alternate dinner is forthcoming. This means that Anna's first experience at McDonald's was (1) something she'll remember forever and (2) completely scarring. John considers ginger chicken to be an excellent snack food, to the amusement of his camp counselor. We've had waiters at Middle Eastern restaurants stand around our table in awe, remarking that they haven't seen anyone eat garlic dip with a spoon since they visited their grandmother in Lebanon.

This also makes cooking for other peoples' children a bit of a challenge; since we skipped the kid food phase entirely, I'm honestly bewildered by "normal" tastes and appetites. I try to go with fairly identifiable foods and hope for the best. We invited friends for a weeknight dinner - garlic chicken, mashed potatoes, steamed green beans, and this cabbage dish, which I honestly didn't expect anyone except me to like. There was half a head of cabbage hanging out in the fridge and this seemed like a good way to use it up and add a little color to the table. Also I really love cabbage and I'm always looking for an excuse to add it to the table now that we don't get to eat stuffed cabbage anymore (if you can think of a substitute for the tomato sauce, please let me know).

Imagine my delight when Liam, age (something under 2), stuffed handfuls of this into his mouth and grinned at me. He's invited to dinner Every Single Night! Anyone who appreciates my cooking is guaranteed to get more of it, especially anyone who is this cute *and* pre-verbal. I'm posting this for Liam's awesome mom Andrea, who swears she'll make it for him. From Mark Bittman's Best Recipes in the World.

Cabbage and Apples 

1/2 head red cabbage, chopped
1 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored, and chopped into chunks
salt and pepper to taste

Put the butter, sugar, and vinegar in frying pan large enough to hold the cabbage. When the butter has melted, add the cabbage and toss to coat with butter. Add the apple chunks, stir, and cover, then reduce the heat to low and cook until the cabbage is soft or the rest of dinner is done (about 45 minutes in this case). Season with salt and pepper to taste.