Around the world, there is a great divide between local restaurant cuisine and local home cooking.  And maybe I’m biased because I’ve never been able to afford three star Michelin restaurants, but I’m a home-cooking girl.  Sure there are great affordable restaurants everywhere, but they have their limits.  At the end of every day, wherever I am, I really just want a home-cooked meal.  If I can’t have it, I’ll settle for a plate at a restaurant with varying degrees of satisfaction.

So if I tell you that I didn’t fall in love with Spanish food after living in Spain 6 months maybe you can forgive me, because I never got a home-cooked Spanish meal.  I had some unforgettable fare, to be sure: my first Spanish tortilla, fried eggplant, tapas at a crowded bar, bocadillos with jamón Serrano or chorizo and churros with thick hot chocolate.  But honestly, the best Spanish food I’ve had has come from my kitchen these past couple of weeks.  Mostly because of Penelope Casas’ extraordinary book La Cocina de Mamá: The Great Home Cooking of Spain.  I’ve already remade every recipe I’ve tried, and can’t get enough.

So here’s a paella recipe from the book, like nothing I tried while in Spain.  My adaptations of using a short-grain brown rice instead of white Bomba rice and a cast-iron pan instead of a traditional paella pan make it slightly less authentic, but it’s everyday home cooking and it’s delicious.

Isabel’s vegetable paella

adapted from La Cocina de Mamá: The Great Home Cooking of Spain by Penelope Casas

I honestly prefer brown rice here, just be sure to use a short-grain variety.  And a quick tip that I’ve used here: to substitute brown rice for white rice, bring a generous pot of water to a boil, add brown rice and cook for 10 minutes, then drain.  Use as directed for white rice in nearly any recipe.

2 carrots
2 small celery stalks, or the heart with leaves
1/2 medium onion
4 oz. shitake mushrooms cleaned, stems only (reserve caps for the paella)
1 clove of garlic
4 cups water
1/8 teaspoon saffron
salt, to taste

Roughly chop the vegetables, and put in a saucepan with the water.  Bring to a simmer, cover and cook 20-30 minutes.  Remove the vegetables and discard.  Add salt to taste.  Add the saffron, cover and turn the heat down very low, or off completely.

1 1/4 cup short-grain brown rice
1/3 cup olive oil
1 cup frozen lima beans, thawed
1 medium carrot (3 oz.) scrubbed and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
reserved shitake mushroom caps, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
1/4 lb. green beens, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces (about 35 beans or 1 heaping cup chopped)
2 red bell peppers, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
6 oz. zuchhini, choppeed into 1/2 inch cubes (1 1/3 cup)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup chopped whole canned plum tomatoes
1 teaspoon pimentón de la Vera- sweet smoked Spanish paprika

In a large saucepan, bring a generous amount of water to a boil. Add the rice and cook, continuing to boil for 10 minutes.  Remove any scum that comes to the top. Drain. Let continue to drain in a colander until ready to use.

Preheat the oven to 400 (gas) or 450 (electric).  Heat the oil in a large 12-14 inch cast iron pan over fairly high heat (just one less than the highest setting).  Add all the vegetables except the garlic and tomato.  Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring regularly until the vegetables pick up some nice color and are crisp-tender.  Add the garlic and cook 2 minutes more, still stirring.  Add the tomato and paprika, and continue cooking for a minute more.  Taste for salt.

Add 3 cups of the broth and the rice, reduce the heat and simmer about 10 minutes, until the rice is getting relatively soft.  If needed, add the remaining broth.  There should be enough to finish cooking the rice.

Transfer to the oven, and cook about 10(gas) to 15(electric) minutes more, until nearly al dente.  Remove from the oven, cover with foil and let sit 5-10 minutes until the rice is cooked.  Return the pan to the stovetop and cook undisturbed over high heat for about 3 minutes until a crust (the socarrat) has formed on the bottom .

When I saw a recipe for “Snobby Joes” in Veganomicon by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero, I rolled my eyes.  I don’t like Sloppy Joes, and I don’t like imitation anything.  But then I read the clever intro about Snobby Joes feeling superior for not eating meat, and when I saw they were based on lentils, they got me.  The best part is that I actually like them far more than any meat version I’ve tried.

But I’m a little  embarrassed to be talking to you about Sloppy Joes.  And I’ll be honest: if I hadn’t just come back from vacation, I probably would have waited to find a more impressive recipe to post.  But I think you are getting the good end of the deal.  This recipe hits the spot and comes together fast for a weeknight meal.

I did change up the spices a little here.  I didn’t mean to, but the first time I tried this I was out of chile powder, and used a mole-inspired spice blend with ancho.  The results were delicious.  The traditional flavor of Sloppy Joes came through, but the cocoa powder added some depth and the spices gave it some intrigue.

vegan Sloppy Joes (a.k.a. Snobby Joes)
adapted from Veganomicon by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero

2 cups dried lentils
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
2 green peppers, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons ancho chile powder
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons  cocoa powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican)
2 teaspoons salt
15-16 oz. can tomato sauce
6 oz. can tomato paste
2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 tablespoons prepared mustard
8-12 rolls, to serve

In a medium-large pot, cover the lentils with approximately 8 cups of water.  Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook until lentils are just soft, about 20 minutes.  Drain, and return to the pot.

In the meantime, heat the oil in a frying pan and add the onion and green pepper.  Cook over medium heat until softened, about 7 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook one minute more.

Add the vegetables to the lentils and stir in the spices, sugar, cocoa powder, tomato sauce and tomato paste.  Cook over low heat for about 10 minutes, until the mixture starts to meld.  Stir in the maple syrup and mustard, cover and let rest off the heat for 10 minutes more.

Serve on toasted rolls.

I take bean dishes for granted. To me, they are the go-to meal-foundations that boneless skinless chicken breast recipes used to be, before I came to my senses. When I don’t know what to cook, I put on a pot of beans, like I used to defrost a chicken breast or two. Beans take a little more planning if you cook them fresh, but there’s no nasty raw meat mess to carefully clean up, and they taste better. Sure, the chicken breast might have a chance if it weren’t stripped of the dignity of skin and bones, but as-is, it’s beans every time for me. Plus the beans cook unattended with plenty of time to figure out what to put with them. And a tip: you don’t have to soak them before cooking. You might end up with a few broken beans, but who cares?*

My bean routine is as follows:
-measure out about 1/2 cup of dried beans per person (main dish portion)
-cover with about 3 times as much water, (less if they have been soaked)
-bring to a boil, reduce to simmer, let cook on low for 2-4 hours
-salt ONLY when they are almost cooked through (salt toughens the skins and prohibits the water from softening the beans during cooking.)
-check every hour, as convenient, to make sure the water is covering the beans, and stir

The creative part is adding aromatics to the beans while they are simmering. This time I added dried New Mexican style chiles, (a good substitute for the sweet Spanish Nora chile), plenty of unpeeled garlic, and a few sprigs of herbs. A couple of onions got caramelized, some eggplants braised until silky smooth in just enough tomato sauce, and some no-knead bread was popped in the oven.  Chickpeas on their own have an amazing pot liquor, but the chiles made for a deeply flavored dish that I couldn’t get enough of.  I just about cried when Romeo offered the leftovers to his dad.

If you are having trouble getting excited about chickpeas or pintos, check out Rancho Gordo’s heirloom beans.  Steve Sando’s enthusiasm is contagious. (And adding “heirloom” to any ingredient makes it sexier, not to mention “Indian woman.”)

*Cannellini (not to be confused with navy) beans are the exception -they fall apart- so soak them first for salads.  Other applications should be fine.

Spanish-style chickpeas and eggplant with caramelized onions

2 cups dried chickpeas
7 cloves garlic, unpeeled
3 sprigs parsley, plus more for garnish
3 New Mexican dried chiles
10 sprigs thyme
2 onions, sliced
2 large eggplants
14 oz. can whole plum tomatoes or 6 fresh plum tomatoes, chopped
olive oil, about 1/3 cup, separated
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Put the beans in a heavy pot and cover with plenty of water (about 6 cups.) Bring to a boil, then reduce to a low simmer. Add garlic, parsley, chiles, and thyme. Cover and let cook for 3-4 hours, but check after two. (The time can vary depending on the age of the beans.)

Caramelize the onions: heat a frying pan over a medium-low burner. Thinly coat the bottom with olive oil and add the onions. Cook slowly until the onions first become very soft, and then pick up a reddish-brown color. Set aside.

Peel (if you like) and chop the eggplant into slightly large bite-size pieces. Cook in a generous amount of oil with a sprinkle of salt. When the edges soften and the flesh is glossy, add the tomatoes and juice. Cover and simmer for 1 hour or until very soft.

When the beans are approaching tender, add salt to taste -don’t be shy. Let cook about 15 minutes more, then remove the garlic, parsley, chiles and thyme stems. Squeeze the garlic out of the skins and scrape the flesh of the chiles, return both back to the pot.
Add the beans to eggplant mixture, check for seasoning and let simmer 15 more minutes. Top with caramelized onions and flecks of fresh parsley leaves.

Cantaloupe has finally found a home in my kitchen.  After years of half-hearted tolerance, I can now say I love the melon and its lovely floral flavors.  Maybe I’ve been alone for years in detecting an off flavor that just doesn’t hit my palate right, but I don’t think so. Hasn’t any one else been disappointed at nearly every restaurant fruit plate composed of 50% cantaloupe?

Well, when Romeo starting chunking up my least favorite fruit and making a smoothie out of it, I wasn’t thrilled.  But we drink smoothies all the time.  One mediocre drink wasn’t gong to ruin my day.

Then I tasted it, and was blown away. The key is in balancing out the flavors with the pineapple and raspberries.  All the beautiful notes come out, and all the ugly ones fade away.  I don’t know what the carrot adds exactly, since I couldn’t taste it, but this smoothie has got it going on, and I’m not messing with it.

Cantaloupe Smoothie
1 lb. cantaloupe (about 3/8 of a small melon)
1/3 pineapple
5 oz. (half a bag) frozen raspberries
1 carrot
1 cup 100% juice fruit punch blend (or more depending on your blender)
5 ice cubes

Chunk up the melon, pineapple and carrot - you know your blender so you decide the size of the pieces.  Put everything in the blender and whiz until very smooth and a little frothy, adding more juice if necessary - you want a pourable consistency.  Makes 2 smoothies, but you might want to drink them both yourself.

I was going to eat leftovers for dinner last night.  When I got back from the farmer’s market with some baby potatoes and a basket of cherry tomatoes, I changed my mind and threw together a composite of roasted vegetables and fried eggs.  I had a couple of bulbs of kohlrabi ready in the garden, so I sliced them up, as well as a red onion.  Everything got tossed in olive oil and chopped chervil and landed on parchment paper.

Weeknight home cooking meet Ferran Adrià, head chef of El Bulli, and creator of  “culinary foam” amongst other deconstructionist (some say molecular gastronomic) applications.

When I read in a Penelope Casas cookbook that Ferran Adrià  separates the yolk from the white so that each one can be cooked to perfection, I thought, “I’m a home cook, but I can handle that.”

I don’t expect to eat at El Bulli, or any other restaurant that has made the world’s 50 best list under it, but thank you, Ferran Adrià for thinking of everything.  The egg whites were angelic and the yolks extraordinary.

chervil-roasted vegetables with separated fried eggs

This is a loose recipe.  Feel free to experiment and use other vegetables or herbs (parsley or tarragon would be nice), just consider cooking times and flavor profiles and make adjustments.

1 quart baby potatoes, whole or larger waxy potatoes, chopped
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 red onion, sliced
2 baseball-size (or a little smaller) heads or of kohlrabi, peeled and sliced into rounds or half rounds
olive oil for coating the vegetables and frying the egg
salt, to taste
5 tablespoons chopped chervil
6 eggs
Sherry, balsamic or tarragon vinegar and freshly ground black pepper, to serve

Preheat the oven to 350.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment.  Pour some olive oil in a bowl and toss the potatoes.  Arrange them on the baking sheet so that they are in one layer and cover half of the sheet.  Sprinkle with salt.  Repeat with the kohlrabi, arranging slightly overlapped if needed on one quarter of the sheet.  Repeat with the onions, omitting the salt, and arranging them on top of the kohlrabi.  Arrange the tomatoes cut-side up on the last quarter of the sheet.  Drizzle with a little of the oil, and sprinkle salt and brown sugar.  Sprinkle 3 tablespoons of the chervil over the entire pan.

Bake for 55 minutes, basting once.  Move the onions off of the kohlrabi.  Turn the heat up to 475 and continue cooking for 20 minutes more.

Heat 1/4 inch of oil in a frying pan over medium-low heat. Separate the eggs, cooking the yolks immediately and saving the whites in a bowl.  When the yolks are cooked as you like them, remove them to a plate.  Cook the egg whites all at once, stirring them gently once or twice after they have begun to set.  Remove when they are just cooked through and are still very tender.

Pile the vegetables in bowl, top with an egg yolk and some of the egg white.  Finish with a big pinch of the remaining chervil, a drizzle of vinegar and plenty of black pepper.

Most of us didn’t grow up with kale.  Also, most of us didn’t grow up with yoga.  Not just a random statement - apparently the two are linked.  In an obituary for Pattabhi Jois, a famous yoga teacher, The Econimist claimed his influence could be found “from Byron Bay, Australia to Big Sur, California, and wherever else one might expect Priuses on the roads and organic kale on the tables.”

Well, last year in my p-patch in Seattle I succumbed to peer-pressure and planted an abundance of kale.  I still don’t know what Prius-driving limber people do with all that kale, but I figured out a few options for my family.  This was a favorite, maybe because we all did grow up with pizza.

The trio of ingredients play perfectly off of each other.  Sweet peppers, salty olives, bitter greens are rounded off with the acidity of the tomato sauce.  If you use my recipe for tomato sauce, with plenty of garlic, it will be your favorite pizza, even if aren’t the type that drives (or wishes for) a Prius, or practices yoga.  And if you are the type and buy kale at the farmer’s maket every so often just to fit in, I think you’ll really appreciate this recipe too.

One more thing- don’t forget how important it is to have a great crust.  I use Peter Reinhart’s “pizza dough I” from Crust and Crumb: master formulas for serious bread bakers.  But Heidi Swanson has reprinted Reinhart’s recipe for Napoletana Pizza Dough on 101 cookbooks, and I trust both Heidi’s judgement and Peter Reinhart’s recipes.    Because it takes time for dough to develop flavor, I wouldn’t trust any recipe that takes less than 6 hours to make.  For convenience, you might as well start the day before.

kale, roasted red pepper and olive pizza
2 1/2 lbs. pizza dough, approximately (”pizza dough I” reportedly makes 2 lbs. 6.5 oz.)
1 recipe perfect tomato sauce (you’ll have some left over)
2-3 red bell peppers, roasted, peeled and chopped
1/4 cup good olives, pitted and chopped
1 bunch of kale, thick stems removed, leaves chopped
olive oil, for frying
1 lb. mozzarella, shredded

Preheat your oven to as high as it will go, and place a pizza stone on a middle rack.  Heat 1/2 inch or so of olive oil in a frying pan over medium-high heat.  Fry the kale in batches until it is crispy on the edges and tender in the middle.  Set aside on a plate.  Roll out the pizza dough thinly into several pies.  In a thin layer, spread some of the tomato sauce, then add a little kale, the chopped peppers and olives.  Top with the cheese.  It shouldn’t cover the entire pizza, and don’t go overboard with the toppings or else your crust will end up soggy.  Bake one at a time until the crust is golden brown underneath and the cheese is melted and starting to brown as well.  The time will depend on the size of the pizzas.

Hearty but not gut-busting, summer is a great time to install chickpea flour in your pantry.  With Mark Bittman on my side (or am I on his side?) it might already be there.  Toasting it like a roux creates a deeply nutty flavor base and thickener for soup.  It’s the perfect new friend for broccoli, which usually can’t drag itself away from cheese and cream, which are loyal friends, but sometimes it needs to mingle with others.

While I was waiting for my second planting of cilantro to grow, I thought it might be fun to experiment with the blossoms of the first planting.  They are so pretty and have a distinct flavor, like green coriander - unexpectedly different from cilantro leaves.  The combination of lemon balm and coriander blossoms is perfect- spicy and refreshing.  But if you can’t get both lemon balm and coriander blossoms I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to make this soup with basil.  It might be less exotic sounding, but no less delicious.  And  the soup actually lends basil a really special note and revives its sometimes over-used flavor.   So it’s up to you- basil or lemon balm and coriander blossoms.

broccoli and toasted chickpea flour soup with lemon balm and coriander blossoms

8 cups water
1/4 cup olive oil
1 cup chickpea flour
2 lbs. broccoli, trimmed and chopped
salt, to taste
7 cloves garlic, unpeeled
1 1/2-2 lemons, juiced
1/2 cup lemon balm leaves, chopped
10 heads coriander blossoms, chopped, plus more for garnish

Put the water in a tea kettle, and bring to a boil.  In the meantime, heat the oil in a soup pot over medium heat.  Add the chickpea flour and stir, scraping the bottom until it becomes a shade darker.  Very slowly add the water from the kettle, using a whisk and stopping to beat until smooth when a thick paste forms.  When all the water is added, put the broccoli and salt in the pot and bring to a simmer.  While the broccoli is cooking, toast the garlic on a comal or cast iron pan until the skins are charred and the inside is soft.  Peel the garlic and mash the cloves with a little water from the soup pot.  Taste the soup for salt -you may have to add quite a bit- making sure it’s tasty (although it will get better soon).    Squeeze in the lemon juice, and add the lemon balm, coriander blossoms, and mashed garlic. Puree in a blender or use an immersion blender.  If it is too thick add a little more water -you want it to be the consistency of cream of broccoli soup.  It it is too thin, let simmer until it thickens.  Serve alongside bread with a head of coriander blossoms floating in the soup.

David Lebovitz’s chocolate ice cream with peanut butter patties from The Perfect Scoop. Because some things are worth celebrating.

I don’t know about you, but I’m done with doctored up tomato sauces.  I only want three things in my tomato sauce: olive oil, garlic and tomatoes.  Ok, and a little salt - that’s four.  Everyone is looking to add that secret ingredient that sends their version over the top.   But have you ever had a pure homemade tomato sauce?   Every time I make it, people ask, “what did you put in this?”  Not much, but it’s surprisingly delicious.

Here’s a simple recipe to try.  Don’t feel bad for all those times you went crazy with other batches of tomato sauce.  With the first tomatoes of the season just around the corner, give yourself a fresh start.  This is the perfect all-purpose sauce to make and preserve.

perfect tomato sauce
1/4 cup olive oil
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 large can of good quality whole plum tomatoes (I’m not overly impressed with San Marzano, but also don’t like many generic brands) or 2 lbs. peeled and chopped fresh tomatoes
salt, to taste

Heat the oil in saucepan over medium heat.  Add the garlic and cook until soft.  Do not let it pick up any color.  Add the tomatoes and juice, as well as a pinch or two of salt.  Cook for 20 minutes or so, smashing the tomatoes against the side of the pan, or alternately, use an immersion blender and puree.  Taste again for salt.

Once you really enjoy this sauce, I admit, you can play with it a little.  But every addition should mean something, and I wouldn’t add more than one or two extras.  I might add lemon zest if it’s going with ricotta cheese, a minced shallot if it’s going with other vegetables or a splash of wine with meat.  Most of the time though, I don’t want anything else.

My father-in-law likes to go all-out in typical Texan bigger-is-better style.  Sometimes this means having an air-hockey table in our living room with the legs chopped off just right, making it the perfect height for his grandson.  Sometimes this means buying an enormous citrus juicer so he can subsist on ceviche with ease.

I guess we have different ideas on “going all-out,” but here I am, with a state-fair-reminiscent citrus juicer staring at me, so I drink.  And here are a few of the refreshing summer drinks we have been enjoying. With ease.

watermelon agua fresca with lime:  Scoop watermelon flesh (seeds and all) into a blender.  Pulse a few times, then blend until just liquified, pushing down the solids as necessary.  Strain out seeds and excess pulp with a fine mesh strainer.  Add lime juice to taste, and optionally, sweeten with agave nectar or sugar.

lemonade with chia seeds:  Add a tablespoon of chia seeds (found in health food stores) to unchilled lemonade.  Let sit until the seeds have become gelatinous. Chill.  Serve with a straws - almost bubble-tea style.

sorrel mint bissap with lime:  inspired by Yolele!: Recipes from the Heart of Senegal by Pierre Thiam.  Make flor de Jamaica from Hibiscus (sorrel) flowers: In a saucepan place about two cups of hibiscus flowers,  add water until just covered.  Bring to a boil.  Turn down heat, add a handful of mint leaves and simmer for 5 minutes.  Remove from heat, let cool.  Strain hibiscus and mint leaves, add lime to taste, dilute with cold water (to taste) and chill.

Next up: my lemonbalm plant is getting bigger and I’ll be steeping lemonbalm leaves in hot water, chilling and using it as a base for lemonade.