Everyone who thinks that a tomato is a perfectly acceptable dinner, raise your hand!


Well, not just a tomato, of course. Even in this heat, I need something a little bit more substantial than just a tomato to make a meal. But not a whole lot more. Take this tomato and bacon salad, for example.


Ten minutes in the kitchen and dinner's ready. Above, we have two lovely ripe tomatoes - one heirloom, one not - sliced and topped with a few slices of crispy bacon, a handful of sliced basil and a quick vinaigrette made from bacon fat, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and honey. It's great - sort of like a low carb BLT, infused with smoky bacon-y goodness in every bite.

Not that I have anything against carbs, of course. Check this regular-carb BLT for proof:


Toasted Bread Alone peasant bread (shouts to Boiceville, NY, home of my elementary school and the original Bread Alone bakery) spread with a slightly obscene amount of mayonnaise and filled with a sliced tomato, crunchy thick-cut bacon and this weird dark purple lettuce from the CSA. As both a tomato snob and a serious admirer of the BLT, I really only eat these things from July until September - prime tomato season - and so I cram as many of them into my life as possible during these three short, sweltering months.

(Honestly, I'll take the 95 degree subway platforms in the morning as long as it means I get to eat as many tomatoes as my little Italian heart desires.)


Speaking of Italian - and of late summer delicacies - here are some fried squash blossoms and, underneath, some zucchini and squash fritters. A week or so ago, I went over to Nicole's with a Ziploc bag full of Lynnhaven Farms goat's milk ricotta, an egg and some parsley. We piped the ricotta mixture into some of the above blossoms, twisted their little tops, dipped them into a batter made with flour and seltzer and quickly fried them. Oh, bliss! I thought the goat ricotta might wind up being a little too funky, but it wasn't - it was so creamy and sweet and perfect with the mild floral bite of the blossoms.

I wanted to repeat that evening's success for a weekend dinner with Ed, but I wound up getting a little too creative. I had a bunch of zucchini and zephyr squash in the fridge that I wanted to use up, so I figured I'd dice them up, saute them and add them to the ricotta mixture. Squash stuffed squash blossoms! Brilliant, right?

Yeaaaah... until the watery cooked squash hit the ricotta, egg, parsley and basil mixture.... and melted everything into a soupy mess, completely unfit for stuffing anything. Uh oh.

"How's it going in here?" Ed asked, coming into the kitchen to investigate.
"I think I fucked it up," I said, glancing towards the takeout menu drawer.
Ed thought it over for a moment, then said, "It'll be fine. Just add a couple of tablespoons of flour and you can make fritters instead."

Ricotta and zucchini fritters? Brilliant, for real! Flour added, crisis averted, and minutes later, we were sitting at the table, eating crispy battered blossoms and piles upon piles of fluffy squash fritters and licking the grease and salt off of our fingers.

And finally, a quick Friday night dinner with Jessica. There were some Italian frying peppers left over from that week's CSA share that I had no real idea what to do with. So, dear readers... I stuffed them. With saffron risotto and mozzarella cheese and peas. And then I covered them in garlic and crushed tomatoes from a can and I baked them for a really, really long time. (During said time, Jessica and I were like totally starving and were reduced to eating piquillo peppers out of a jar and Manchego cheese. Oh wait, actually, the peppers and cheese were awesome. But whatevs, we were totally just killing time til the peppers were done.)

They were good. They were really, really good. I just don't have any pictures of them. Which is probs for the best, cause baked stuffed peppers? Not particularly photogenic.

Anyway, I do have a picture of the plum upside down cake that I made for dessert! Two, actually.


I thought it actually came out a little bit dry... so this obscene amount of whipped cream was totally necessary to the overall integrity of the dish. Totally necessary. Not overboard at all. Really, I was there. Trust me.


This is what happens when I get too ambitious at the farmer's market. Two pints of sugar plums sound like a totally aces idea in the moment! But a week later, they're getting soft in the fridge and I'm still snacking on pretzels at happy hour instead of plums after the gym. At that point, there's only one option: make a cake and attempt to foist slices onto all of your friends. Starting with Jessica.

Mission accomplished!

Adventures in Cooking Meat: Episode Steak. I've been craving red meat like crazy lately, but I'm also trying to be a little more thoughtful about where my meat is coming from. Grass-fed, locally raised beef sounds a lot better than a big old slab of artificially-red steak from Key Foods... but it's also quite a bit more expensive. Compromising, I bought this london broil from one of the meat vendors at the greenmarket - a cheaper cut than the strip steak or porterhouse I might splurge on at the supermarket, but not super intimidating.

Sure, I had to ask some more seasoned chefs de boeuf for advice, but it was actually pretty easy to cook - a quick marinade in olive oil, vinegar and rosemary, then a super-hot quick sear and a ten minute rest. Upon slicing, I was greeted by lovely, perfectly pink beef - feral and minerally and so exactly what I wanted.

Alongside, some nutty zephyr squash sauteed in a bit of butter and swiss chard topped with a slice of pistachio and honey-flavored goat cheese. Oh, hell yes.


Oh, and those pickles from last week? Amazing. Dill-pickled kohlrabi in the back, smoked salt-pickled turnips at the front. They're crisp and sweet and refreshing, a great foil to anything rich and savory, and a pretty awesome snack just solo.


"What the frig is quinoa?" says just about everyone who doesn't know what the frig quinoa is. (For the record, it's a seed that's sorta more like a grain - full of protein and fiber and all of that other great stuff that makes nutritionists excited, but also tasty and versatile.) This warm quinoa salad was a great clean-out-the-pantry meal: quinoa, beet greens, garlic scapes and feta cheese with lemon and olive oil dressing.) The feta cheese was leftover from a kale, feta and lemon saute - no pictures of that, though. Sorry, Prentice!


This mint iced tea is probably not as visually exciting as it would have been with actual mint leaves floating around. Rest assured, though, it was full of refreshing minty goodness.


This is the second Beth-inspired recipe in today's blog. (The first was the kale and feta concoction.) Beth's nearly-vegan dinner party blew my mind on many levels, but this zucchini ribbon salad was the one dish that I've become absolutely obsessed with. It's so simple but so sophisticated - you run a raw zucchini through the thinnest setting of your mandoline, making paper-thin zucchini ribbons which you then heap on a plate, drizzle with olive oil, sea salt, pepper and herbs - and then you eat it. Avocado slices are optional, but obviously make everything even better. This is the kind of dinner you make when it's eight o'clock at night and eighty-four degrees in your kitchen and all you wanna do is stop being hungry so you can take a cold shower and go to bed.

Except you never just want to stop being hungry - if that was the case, you could just grab a floppy slice of pizza from next door. No, you want to be sated. You want to be full of fresh, local vegetables. You want something worth savoring. No ovens involved. This salad? It's exactly what you want.


Also great for those no-cook nights? Heirloom tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. With lots of salt. Lots and lots of salt.


And finally, I leave you with this komatsuna and egg scramble, served on buttered Bread Alone sourdough. Komatsuna is a Japanese mustard spinach that I keep calling Korematsu by mistake. (Which is probably funnier if you went to law school or have some other reason to know about Korematsu vs. United States. Oh, law nerd jokes on a cooking blog!) Anyway, the lightly bitter greens combined with the rich, unctuous yolks of the local eggs, the sweetness of the butter and the slight sour tang of the bread made this perfect little lunch treat. I know it's really ridiculous and corny, but as I ate this, I thought about how lucky I am to be able to enjoy my food so much - that I have so much access to so much good food and that I'm able to eat it with such pleasure.

So, thanks, Prospect Heights CSA and Brooklyn greenmarkets and friends who throw dinner parties and folks who know how to cook a steak properly and officemates who remind me to buy tomatoes! Y'all make this little quasi-locavore* very very happy.

(*I can't call myself a locavore with a straight face. Real talk, I ate KFC for lunch today. And there is a 50/50 chance that I will eat Arby's for lunch tomorrow. Every time someone mentions Horsey sauce, it sets a little alarm clock inside my brain: must eat Arby's within 72 hours or else!)

Oh man, I really love pickles.

I love pickled cucumbers and pickled beets and pickled cabbage. I love making jokes about my pickled liver. I still haven't tried pickled eggs, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna happen some time this year. Seriously, I am so fully committed to pickle adoration, I even named my cat Pickles. That's love, right there.

In my fridge right now, there are three kinds of pickles. (Four, if you count kimchee.) There's a jar of Claussen dill pickles, the gold standard for supermarket pickles, a plastic bucket full of the amazing Israeli pickles from Mimi's Hummus in Ditmas Park... and now, homemade pickled turnips.

(Well, I guess they're not quite pickled yet. Give 'em three or four days though.)

Someday I will remember to adjust my white balance when taking pictures. Today is not that day.

The turnips are from the CSA; the pickling recipe is from the Momofuku cookbook. I totally flaked, though, and forgot to buy kosher salt, so I had to improvise with what was in my cupboard: two teaspoons of Himalayan pink rock salt, half a teaspoon of flaky smoked salt. (Lucky for this recipe, I love salt almost as much as I love pickles.) I also threw a couple of peppercorns into each jar cause, you know, why not? It's Thursday. It's a party. Everyone's invited!


The brine is really simple: hot water, rice wine vinegar, sugar, salt. It's weird, being forced to wait a couple of days before the fruits of one's labor can be taste-tested. Was smoked salt a mistake? Are the peppercorns gonna ruin everything? Only Future Kathryn knows for sure! (And Future Matt and Future Batya, cause one of these turnip jars belongs to them.)

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of the Pickled Turnip Experiment!

Week two of this year's CSA pickup, and things are lookin' good!


This is Ed's quiche, which is technically Paula Deen's quiche, but seeing as how it was prepared by Ed and all... Imma call it Ed's quiche. This week, we got gorgeous swiss chard and spinach from the CSA. And what could improve on fresh, healthy leafy greens? Oh, right. Bacon, eggs, cream, cheese and a flaky pastry crust. Damn, Ed. Your spinach and chard quiche is aces. (And makes an awesome breakfast.)


But hey, my homemade ranch dressing is pretty great, too! Especially on this all-CSA salad (save for the farmer's market fava beans) with radishes, snow peas and romaine lettuce. Mayo, buttermilk, a bunch of young garlic, a squirt of mustard, salt and pepper and lots of parsley and basil = holy moly. I have to restrain myself from eating this dressing for breakfast. With a spoon.


And just in case anyone was concerned that my cardiovascular health was toooo good? Here's the sandwich component of tonight's salad and sandwich dinner: whole grain bread with melted Brie, prosciutto di Parma and fig jam.

Yeah. There are no words.

Last Saturday, I met up with a couple members of my GTFU crew to take a nice, long walk around Prospect Park. Unfortunately, just as we all assembled in the gazebo, laced up our sneakers and got ready to head out, the skies opened up and it poured. Not like a light sprinkle or a delicate mist... this was a torrential downpour. We waited it out for a few minutes, then all agreed that we each deserved an A for effort, but that this walk was not gonna happen. Lucky for me, I had my umbrella with me, so I decided to brave the rain and get my shopping on at the Grand Army Plaza farmer's market.

(Oh, side note! I just signed the lease on an awesome apartment just a few blocks away from Grand Army Plaza and its fabulous greenmarket. The place is really nice, but the best part? It has a nice, big kitchen with lots of cabinets and counters and... drumroll... a dishwasher! I cannot wait to get in there and start cooking... and washing dishes.)

Anyway, standing in line to buy a few bunches of sorrel, I saw a bin full of dark blue potatoes and immediately thought, blue potato chips! (My next thought was "Jetblue!" I've spent many a long flight wedged into a tiny seat, happily munching on Terra Blues, drinking tomato juice and watching trashy television on my own! Personal! In-flight entertainment system!) Anyway, two blue potatoes, sliced on a mandolin, tossed with a teaspoon of olive oil, baked at 400 degrees then sprinkled with salt and herbes de Provence = the tasty little snacks you see below.


They're not quite as greasy and salty and delicious as the Terra Blues, of course... but there's a bonus: I get to eat them while sprawled out on the couch watching my own personal in-apartment entertainment system.


This is a great big salad of red leaf and... oh, I forget... some other kind of lettuce, pea shoots and two different kinds of sprouts. Pea shoots are so amazing. I like them cooked, I like them raw... I like 'em any way I can get 'em.

(I had to use the flash to get this picture, cause it was dark outside and I was hungry and didn't want to wait while I fiddled with my desk lamp and sheets of paper to light everything properly. I like how ominous the picture is, with the shadow of the lens and everything. It's like a fifties B horror movie... It Came For the Salad!!!)

Oh, and hey... in case you were wondering, "whatever happened to that sorrel Kathryn bought in the first paragraph?"


... here is the answer. Potato, leek and sorrel soup! Two leeks, one potato, a bit of garlic and thyme, three or four cups of chicken broth and the leaves (no stems!) of one bunch of sorrel = lemony, herbal, tangy deliciousness. (Especially when garnished with a plop of low fat Greek yogurt.) It certainly isn't the most appetizing color, but the taste is really lovely.

And finally, a picture of Jack curled up in my bathroom sink. I'm going to miss a lot of things about this apartment. I have a feeling that Jack is only gonna miss this one.

Sunday morning, Brooklyn style.

Wake up to text messages from brunch partner. "You up yet?" Oy... not quite. A quick shower, then navigating the awful weekend subway system up to Cortelyou. Brunch at the bar at Farm on Adderley: red flannel hash, beet mustard, a fried egg. A bloody mary or two and some strong coffee.

Then a wander through the small farmer's market. Hmm... fish for dinner? The fish seller has a few filets, a bunch of whole fish... a little bit too intimidating for a novice fish-cooker. But ooh, those scallops look great! Five of those, please. And some of those crispy Fuji apples at the Red Jacket stand... and half a dozen eggs at Knoll Crest...

Then the food co-op just down the block. Oh hey, they have pea shoots! I've been meaning to make that recipe from the Ad Hoc At Home cookbook... no chanterelles, of course, but shiitake will do beautifully. A little thyme... some dried navy beans for chicken chili later on this week... time to check out and make my way back home.


Then home, to watch a "16 and Pregnant" marathon on MTV and prepare some food for the week. Pork tenderloin brined and roasted.... white beans soaked and boiled... and then it's time for my treat. A lovely Sunday dinner: mushrooms, pea shoots and thyme and scallops with a sweetly caramelized sear. Wow... Thomas Keller definitely knows what he's talking about! The mushrooms and pea shoots are perfect together, bright and savory at the same time.

It's the end of the weekend; time to stretch out on the couch with the cats and eat blackberries straight out of the carton and get ready for Monday. But, you know... I kind of am ready.

I was planning to cook some pork tenderloin for dinner tonight, with wild rice and asparagus on the side, but the pork was still frozen solid at seven o'clock. (I really need to get the hang of this whole freezing/defrosting thing.) Uh oh! The grocery stores in my neighborhood close long before sunset, and delivery food was really not an option. Porkless and bereft of any other animal flesh of the non-frozen variety, I looked through the cabinets to scramble together a Plan B.

What I came up with: a Barley Melange! Happily for me, it incorporated the last bunch of asparagus in the fridge, the impulse-buy delicata squash on my counter and the last of the cranberry and walnut trail mix in the cabinet. I dressed the salad in a vinaigrette made with olive oil, balsamic and some of the maple syrup I'd brought back from Montreal last month. It was great - the maple and cranberries added sweetness, the pearl barley gave everything a hearty chewiness and the asparagus and walnuts were nice and crunchy.


Two very enthusiastic thumbs up! And now I have leftovers for lunches this week. (I bet this will be even better alongside a couple of slices of that pork tenderloin... whenever it decides to unfreeze itself.)

Impromptu Barley Melange

3 1/2 c. cooked pearl barley
1 delicata squash
1 bunch asparagus
1/2 c. walnuts, chopped
1/2 c. dried cranberries
1 T olive oil
1 T maple syrup
2 T balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper

Cook the barley according to instructions. Roast the squash at 375 for about 30 minutes. Steam the asparagus briefly, then blanch. Whisk the ingredients for the dressing together. Combine everything in a big bowl. Serves four as a main course, probs more like six as a side.