root vegetable chicken soup

Someone’s got to eat the end of the root vegetables. Or heck, maybe you’ve just gotten some out of the ground that have been growing over the winter. You’re my hero. Here’s your answer, nonetheless, a silky, salty, garlicky chicken soup full of big hunks of soft, starchy root vegetables.
Now that it’s getting warmer out I’m starting to regret my decision to get bangs. The other day was like 62 and they felt like a a sheet of plastic on my face. Sweaty plastic. I’m not sure headbands will work so well for the mid day workouts I like to do during my work days, lest I look like I have a drawbridge on my forehead. And please, I’m not washing my hair in the middle of the day. Who do you think I am?

celery root salad

I’m completely smitten with old cookbooks and reenactment cookbooks…well, historical cookbooks, because they’re often not reenactments so much as modern interpretations on historical recipes. I only wish they were reenactment ones; maybe just explained a little more thoroughly than old ones. I have this one interpreted historical cookbook from the City Tavern, which almost makes me cry because I want all of the recipes so badly to be exactly what olde timey Philadelphians would have eaten at that restaurant so that I can taste something exactly the same. But there are some recipes in the book that aren’t too modernized. It’s refreshing at least to see lard used as the fat of choice in some recipes. This celery root salad is one simple little dish that I’ve been eyeing for a while from that book. There are a fair amount of vegetable recipes in it that are prepared nice and heavily. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good, crisp summer salad, but I’m not going to say I don’t really love fat-laden vegetables. I should have been born in Minnesota, I guess.
Celeriac is one of my absolute favorite roots. To eat. Some how or other, though, I’ve avoided it raw. Mashed, boiled, roasted, but not raw. Come to think of it, I’ve also never had raw beets I don’t think. I asked for a mandoline for Christmas and this was the first time I used it to julienne something. Pretty sweet. I’m sorry if you don’t have one and you have to julienne the root by hand. No, I’m not, because I’ve had to julienne everything by hand before this. You can do it. You’ll be a better person for it. You could also use a box grater, though the result won’t be as elegant, but whatever. I’m not really elegant, either.

pork neck bones with sauerkraut

My trip to New York City nearly killed me with a flake of puff pastry. I hadn’t even had puff pastry in so stinking long and then I like breathed in a litte flake and it flapped over my trachea. Like a vacuum seal. It was the worst. I’d like to say my life flashed before my eyes, but instead I just kept thinking how much I just wanted to be able to freaking breathe. My memory is terrible anyway. Well, I probably have that little pastry flake still in my lungs, because I breathed again. Wait, in a month or something I’ll get some sort of lung rot from the putrified puff pastry residing in there. At least I got to have a wonderful time and was able to eat some pretty great food. And Samantha found a glorious wedding dress.
Slow-cooked collagen is glorious in its melting rubber texture. That’s the best description I could come up with. I wish toothsome was the right word. If I could redefine toothsome, it’d be to mean the texture of slow-cooked collagen. It’s kinda like melty halloumi. But without the squeakiness. Kind of. I don’t know. It’s good though. And a spine, just like oxtail, has amble amounts of it.

one-pot mustard and lemon chicken

One-rimmed-baking-sheet chicken. Whatever. This is easy chicken. Perfect weekday night dinner. Joe’s sister Louise requested a recipe of her own on here – one that would be nice and simple. This is a good example of what I might do on a weekday night (you know, because I don’t always make ridiculous dinners on a Tuesday). It’s to the point, but not lacking in flavor, and super good. And look, it’s carrots again. That’s another thing I do; obsess over ingredients.
It’s tough for me to settle on a recipe that’s simple like this. Should I have included onions? Other root vegetables? I guess I feel like it has to be like the definitive one-pot chicken and carrot dish. The BEST way to make them together. Or, at least the best way to make them together with a mustard lemon sauce. But sometimes it’s just nice to have a different way of making your normal weeknight meat and vegetables. You don’t want to marinate the chicken overnight, even if will make a wonderful difference; you don’t want to roast the vegetables at one temperature and the chicken at another; and on the other end, you don’t want another dinner of steamed broccoli and boring chicken. It’s shocking how many dinners I eat that are seasoned only with salt. I sure do love salt. Salt and fat. But I’ve got a reputation to upkeep here. I’m fancier than salt. I use lemon and mustard. Watch out.

roasted carrot and caramelized onion soup with caraway

Sometimes it’s the little details that make me happy in a recipe. Like nicely roasted carrots and caramelized onions in an otherwise very simple soup. And homemade chicken broth. And then, anything with caraway seeds in it is superlative in my book. The best seed.

roasted winter squash with tahini and za’atar

I lost the homemade candy contest. 3rd place out of 3. That’s okay, I guess the judges just preferred marzipan squeezed from a tube with shitty chocolate melted on top. Actually…I probably deserved it. I gave my friend some of my toffee and there was a hair in it. Maybe the judges got a hair piece, too. How embarrassing. How am I supposed to make cookies for people for Christmas? I should be in exile.
I’m really not feeling like writing much here. I had all sorts of wonderful things written down, then I accidentally deleted everything and whenever I do something stupid like that, I freak out and make everything worse. So instead of ⌘-Z-ing, I clicked somewhere else on the page to really confirm that I had deleted everything, thus really truly confirming the delete. Idiot. I don’t even remember what I had written. Other than griping about losing the candy contest. And probably Christmas, something, something, cookies. Trying to rewrite what you’d deleted is such an awful feeling. Even when it’s something as silly as a blog post. It makes me want to pull my hair out.

celery root and onion rösti

I’m having a real crabby week. And it might have started Saturday. A high school kind of moody, little things are getting me down kind of week. I had a meltdown at the gym. That was real cool. I am sick of my bum wrist… both bum wrists and I don’t want to have to think about them anymore and I’m tired of getting setback in trying to get betterstrongerfaster. I’m going to be the worst old person, when all sorts of things start to ache and give me problems. Saturday I got mad when I tried to make this recipe. I burnt it. And I got mad at our stupid stove whose biggest burner isn’t big enough for my cast iron pan so the rimmed edge hangs off and doesn’t allow the pan to heat evenly. The edges of the rösti were only lightly browned, and the center was black, but I still ate most all of it. It’s pretty great, so I remade it on Sunday for some friends I had over. I don’t think they thought I was too weird for taking pictures, and they gave it their thumbs up.

polish cabbage rolls

I can’t call this gołąbki because I felt like I sufficiently interpreted these such that I might get chided by a Pole. Namely, in that I didn’t include rice. Next time I will, I swear (but these are so good I’m not sure I want to change them…). I’ll try to make my grandma proud. I also feel funny because I’m no expert in Polish cuisine – it’s not exactly the most popular ethnic cuisine, with hipsters flocking to little holes-in-the-wall to debate the best pierogi in town. There are actually kind of a few restaurants here, but I haven’t made my way over to them yet. Most of them look kinda crappy. Like, trying to be cool when it’d just be better to be a no frills, oblivious to modern tastes kinda place and have really good, all homemade food. Ugh, that reminds me of a Mexican restaurant nearby that has an ADA-certifited heart-healthy menu or some junk. Stay the hell away from that place. Growing up, my mom used to make gołąbki all the time, but I was a kid and I was picky and I didn’t eat anything that wasn’t Polly-O string cheese. So, I’m kind of starting from scratch here, with nothing much to compare to. I’ve mostly seen these little pigeons (that’s what gołąbki means) with a tomato sauce, but both Polish cookbooks I have seemed to be sauce-ambivalent and said you could serve it with a number of sauces. So, I picked a mushroom sauce because I’ve been in the mood for mushrooms lately. Again, it’s interpreted – I didn’t want to use cream. If you happen to be Polish (or another Eastern European) and make these – what sauce do you like to make for them?

lamb tagine

After what I feel was a pretty damn decent representation of Ethiopian food, here we have what I think is maybe a bit of a misnomer. Not that this isn’t good, of course. It’s just…that there is no tagine involved. Like tandoori chicken with no tandoori. What other foods are named after their cooking vessel? Casserole. I don’t know. Aside from that, and maybe aside from the sweet potato, this is still a nice, long-cooked dish with lovely spices and tender meat. I didn’t take a lot of liberties. Though, I had also told myself that the next time I was to make Moroccan food I was going to have made preserved lemon. I didn’t. And I made this anyway. I’m such a let down. Lamb tagine…Moroccan lamb? Sure, whatever. Just make it.
I just realized that I thought I had only posted two African recipes in my blog’s existence. How incredibly embarrassing to admit that it was because I sometimes forget to think of Morocco when I think of Africa. I’m a bad person. Egypt, too. I don’t even know much how to differentiate Egyptian food from other Middle Eastern cuisines. I would like to be more cultured! Maybe that area should get their shit together so I can go visit and eat their food. Idiots. Oh and visit the Egyptian pyramids. Ohhhhh man do I want to do that. I used to be obsessed with Ancient Egypt. I had a Learn to Write in Hieroglyphics! set when I was in elementary school. Pretty, pretty, prettyyyyy cool.

spaghetti squash and caramelized onion cakes

fallfallfallfallfallfallfallllll!
In other news, I might move to Dallas. I am not happy about it. Joe is looking at a company down there for a job. I don’t know. We’ll see. But I can bet you their fall sucks. What the heck am I supposed to cook down there besides bbq (oh that could be good…). Do winter squash even grow? DO THE LEAVES EVEN CHANGE THERE. It’s just a hot, humid, flat wasteland. I’m too afraid to look back at my blog posts around the time of the Denver move. I think I didn’t want to leave Boston, either. I’m apparently inflexible. It’s hard to even get me to go out at night.

swiss chard and leek potato cake

I’ve just come off a long weekend of utter food debauchery. Samantha and her boyfriend Mike came to visit for what were the best four and a half days I’ll probably have until I make it back to visit them in Boston. I.love.themmmm. But wow, did my stomach not. Mostly, I screwed myself over with eating ice cream every night. Oof. But we really ate some pretty awesome food from some awesome restaurants. I love food. Joe loves food. Mike and Samantha love food probably more. It was epic. Mike kept telling me, “It’s alright, you can make it. Just another few meals to go.” Ha.
Some highlights included:
Chicken leg confit with collard greens full of pork chunks and some heirloom corn grits at The Universal. Best f-ing chicken ever. Holy cow. And it was for breakfast. That’s my kind of breakfast. I’d been there before and asked them to cook my eggs in bacon grease and the chef was not just willing to oblige, but excited to do so. Love that place.

roasted eggplant and garlic salad

Roasted eggplant and roasted garlic salad. I don’t know how best to write that. Does the roasted apply to garlic if I only have it in front of eggplant? Is it redundant to write roasted twice? AHH I don’t understand. But rest assured, the garlic is roasted. Sweet, sweet roasted garlic. And it’s mashed around to evenly incorporate amongst the eggplant. God I love this salad. And I can call it a salad because there are some raw elements. Otherwise I would just call it roasted eggplant and garlic. Boring.
I went to two pig roasts the other weekend. Back to back pig roasts. Well, one was a pig smoke. My god were those pigs good. I’m going to have a pig roasting party of my own. Oh yeah, and did I tell you that I went to a hog butchering class? If you followed me on the old twitter you’d know. Anyway, I made a friend at that class, and who also went to one of the pig roasts I went to, and we’re going to make it happen. He’s like a pig maniac and apparently a smoker master. So…I think we’re going to have the best pig roasting party of the year. Be there or be square, buddy.

three chile chicken + charred summer vegetables

Hi, my name is Julie and my life is boring. I do the same exact things every week. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday: gym. Monday, Tuesday: MasterChef. Tuesday, Thursday: run. Wednesday: pick up CSA. Friday: pick up raw milk. Saturday and Sunday: I have no idea. I wish I’ve been backpacking every weekend. It makes me anxious that I haven’t been. Next thing I know it’s going to be winter. Terrifying. I did, however pick probably 10+ pounds of plums from some plum trees on the campus I work at. In total there were probably 60 pounds. There were four of us picking away – one had a homemade soda bottle fruit picker thing, one toted a ladder, one helped the ladder guy, and I climbed the trees. Barefoot, of course. It was perfect. We stripped those trees bare. I made cardamom lavender jam and I’ll be making pickled plums at some point soon. It sure is tricky looking for a pickle recipe online – how am I supposed to know if it’s safe for canning?! I don’t understand how people figured this stuff out. How many people died of botulism or flesh eating bacteria or whatever before they figured out how to preserve food?! I should just give up cooking. Move to the wilderness. Just scavenge with the coyotes. I’d probably die of a horrid bacterial infection doing that too. Or from the coyotes. Crap.
I have become such a caricature. Like I should be on Portlandia. I use my little reel mower. I ride my bike everywhere with my two panniers. I get all of my food from CSAs, farmers markets, and my backyard. GAG ME. At least Joe owns a gas guzzling Jeep. Sometimes we take the Jeep to pick up the raw milk and pastured meat. And then on the way there I make Joe stop at Target so I can look at all of the clothes. I bet all of those clothes are made in sweatshops. I’m not sure I feel so good about that, but I need something to balance my life out.

watermelon gazpacho

Pretty sure this will be my last watermelon post for a bit. And hopefully the last fruit one for a bit, too. Not positive on that last one. I haven’t posted anything with cherries in it. And I like cherries. Really like cherries. Shoot. Uh, I’ll incorporate meat. I got it, don’t worry. Ohhh man, then peach season is upon us too…
My garden’s at the point now where if I am busy for a couple days in a row, it gets completely overgrown. Tiny little zucchinis turn into like county fair blue ribbon contenders. My arugula keeps fighting me, trying to bolt. I’ve pretty much given up on my broccoli rabe. I can’t keep up. But man, a veggie garden is the most fun thing ever. It makes me feel like such a city slicker – being so amazed and amused at the plants. Not that I am or was a city slicker. And not that I didn’t have a veggie garden growing up. I don’t know, those little plants still make me giddy. I can’t wait until I have a house of my own. Then I will turn the backyard into a produce aisle. I saw my first pear tree the other day. I was by myself and I squealed out loud at those little pears just dangling from the branches.

halloumi, cucumber, watermelon, and fennel seed salad

I’m done! I’m done I’m done I’m done! No more 60 hours/week at my desk job plus the many other hours I put into Gathered! That really took it out of me. I felt like I was back in school, what with all of the 5 hour/night sleeps. Bleh, I do NOT do well with that. Some people seem to. I suppose there’s a bit of variation among people, but I’m betting that they are just used to subsisting on a general level of Suck. So when level Suck is elevated to Suck Less after they get 6 hours of sleep, they think “hm, this is nice”. Whereas me, I’m at level Awesome for most days and level Suck Less feels like level Total and Complete Shit.
Despite being a mega crab, I still made this lovely salad. Just for you. And me, because I ate lots. And because I needed another excuse to put more watermelon into my life. It’s not even good this time of year. Not stopping me. One day, possibly this summer, I will make it my goal to eat an entire watermelon. The only hindrance to completing that goal is self respect. Bah. Halloumi , as I’ve mentioned before is wonderful. So, so wonderful. In general, I’m rather cheese indifferent. I don’t not like it, but like, cubes of cheese on a cheese tray don’t do much for me. I’ll eat all of the grapes in the middle, but yeah. Browned cheese, on the other hand. OH HELLO. It’s the best. Then, if the cheese happens to be deliciously salty, then HELLO AGAIN! I LOVE YOU! A deliciously salty, browned, sheep’s milk cheese? YES PLEASE!

steamed artichokes + bagna cauda

I feel like I might be the last person in the food blogosphere to get on the bagna cauda bandwagon. And probably the artichoke bandwagon. Not that I haven’t had artichokes before, but gasp! I’d never made one. I feel like such a fraud. Allow me to try to redeem myself with this post, even though steaming an artichoke is like the least interesting way to make one. Sigh. GIVE ME A BREAK.
I’m watching a Nova on “Why Ships Sink”. Why do people go on cruises? They’re disgusting. They’re like my nightmare vacation. My anything nightmare. Fat people. Trashy people. Umbrella drinks. Being stuck in a hotel… because it’s just a giant floating hotel. Sick. Oh honey, I have an idea for a vacation! Let’s pay hundreds of dollars to go someplace where we can sit on our asses, eat mountains of food, watch movies, and be in wonderfully close quarters with other fats – hopefully ones wearing American flag shorts and bejeweled crew neck sweatshirts! Speaking of vacations, my dad has finally started talking about going to South America. I’ve been nagging him for years that we need to go abroad to hike/explore. There is an amazing amount of places and things to see in the US, but I’m dying to go to other countries. I’ve only been to Ireland and it was wonderful. I closetly dream of living there some day.

lettuce soup

I like how lettuce soup sounds like gruel or something. Thin, watery, tasteless broth with wilted leaves of iceberg lettuce floating listlessly about. Served lukewarm to you in a rough hewn stoneware bowl while you hang your head and try to will it down your throat. Gross. I hope you don’t bypass this. It’s nothing like that. Instead, it’s bright and springy and a fun way to use big beautiful heads of lettuce and perhaps whatever kinds of greens you have around.
I’m going to the Grand Canyon the first week in June. Rim to rim trip. It’s going to be stupid and hot and long. Stupid because what the heck was I thinking to agree to hiking 23 miles one day and then doing it all over again (the way back we’re splitting into two days, but still). So hotttttt. And sunnyyyyyy. Ahhhhh. Oh and I think some of the people we’re going with are going to be running some of it. And how am I supposed to not run it if other people are running. I’m very susceptible to fitness peer pressure! We’re also going to be hiking day trips around Utah before the Grand Canyon hike. There’s going to be so much Southwest in my life. Colorado is kinda southwesty. I still find that weird to think about. I don’t identify with the southwest very much. Except kokopellis. I mean, I do have a rather large kokopelli collection. Including a tattoo of one on my ankle. Joking.

braised lamb shoulder blade chops + parsnip potato mash

I supposed I could blame my lack of gusto for producing this post in a timely fashion for St. Patrick’s Day on the glorious bout of 70+ degree weather we’ve been having. Burgers and guacamole and grilled veggies have been more on my mind than root vegetables and braises more suitable for brisk 40s-50s spring-ish weather. So maybe just bookmark this for next year’s celebration. Oh wait, and the corned beef recipe I have coming up too. Dammit. Maybe you’ll just have to pretend you’re Irish just a little bit longer. Keep that Erin Go Braughless shirt out for another go around.
I took care of a dog. I have a nascent interest in possibly wanting to want a dog. I thought maybe babysitting one for a day would help me want to want one more. I think I really just want a dog to be a cat that I can take with me on a run and go backpacking with. Or, what I want is a mountain lion that wants to bite me less. Even though I’m pretty convinced all dogs want to bite me just as much as a mountain lion. I think my muscles didn’t relax all day of dogbabysitting. Gotta prepare yourself for that inevitable chomp. Why hasn’t anyone worked on breeding a cat that loves you like a dog, is as big as a dog, and that likes to obey you like a dog? But that still looks like a cat (because duh, they’re way cuter), purrs like a cat, doesn’t wag its tail like an idiot, and does all those cut little rubby things that cats do? Bleh. Maybe it’s just like babies – like they’re alright and pretty cute and stuff, but you don’t ever like someone else’s baby like you’d like your own. So what I need to do is get a little puppy and then next thing I’ll know is that I have a big dog and that I love it because I’ve hardly noticed it transitioning from a lovable cat-sized creature to a big horrible, slobbery, biting, terrifying monster.

chicken thighs with balsamic sautéed fennel and oranges

I felt lazy. Everything about this recipe is lazy. And, I feel okay about that. I think I deserve to write about something that neither takes a lot of time, nor looks particularly glamourous. I mean, look at the rest of my posts – faaaaancyyyy! Heh. Whatever. I wanted to incorporate fennel, oranges, green olives, and balsamic vinegar into one recipe. And since I’ve done a fennel salad with oranges, I couldn’t do basically the same thing again. I considered braising fennel in orange juice, but I didn’t feel like squeezing oranges (and no I won’t use carton orange juice unless it’s a negligible part of the recipe). I couldn’t be bothered having some components cooked and others not – like sautéing the fennel and then topping it with membrane-less orange segments. I guess the only thing left to do was make a one pan meal.
Balsamic vinegar reductions are real high up there on my list of favorite things. Roasted winter squash with it drizzled on top is awesome. I tried to think for like 2 minutes for a better word than drizzled. It’s so G. It’s like a Special K diet bar in Chocolate Drizzle flavor. Steak is pretty perfect with salt and pepper, and pretty more perfect with balsamic reduction on top. But, you know, a glaze will do the trick too. You don’t have quite the control, but it’s the lazy man’s way to make a reduction – or you can call it a glaze. That sounds way fancier. Just dump some vinegar in the pan along with whatever fish, meat, veggie, stir it around for some minutes and you’re done. No extra saucepan necessary.

long-cooked broccoli

If you think that “overcooked” vegetables are something your grandma would serve with tough, overcooked (no quotation marks) meat, canned corn, and a big ol’ pat of margarine, you might be right, but your grandma might have been on to something with those vegetables. It seems pretty chic to serve all your vegetables al dente, and I do like some crunchy, quick sautéed broccoli. I also happen to absolutely love broccoli like this. And if you think it’s an outdated way to cook vegetables and that it ruins them and that it’s for unrefined palates, you’re wrong. It’s all I can do to not eat three heads of broccoli long-cooked. Seriously shoveling occurs.
There are all these speakeasy bars popping up everywhere. I’m partly really embarrassed for the people who opened them up, and also partly really attracted to go because the food looks generally pretty decent and I like dark bars. But why do they have to be like freakin’ living museums or whatever? Where you go through a stupid secret door and the bartenders wear those olde tymey arm garters. Seriously, just embarrassing. I also don’t like/get cocktails, so I suppose I’m not even their target clientele anyway. They just make me feel so blech in my stomach. So sugary. And every time I’ve asked for some concoction without sugar the bartender is so confused/irritated/befuddled/reluctant that I just don’t even bother anymore. Whatever. I’ll just go eat my broccoli.
There are so many things you could do to spice up this broccoli, if you felt so inclined. Anise and fennel come to mind, since this is kind of Italian-y (and would be awesome using broccoli rabe). You could stir in some cheese or squeeze lemon juice on top, too. I’ve seen some people chop up the broccoli and then keep stirring and cooking it until it becomes almost a purée. I’m sure that’s good too, but I like how despite this being rather mushy, there is still texture to it. Reheating leftovers of this in a sauté pan on medium high with some fat results in crispy burned bits that are freaking awesome. You can serve this with whatever you want – Italian sausages, lemony fish, you know. It’s versatile.

long-cooked broccoli
Don’t feel like you have to make this much broccoli. Three pounds is a lot. But it’s really good… but if you’re not as broccoli-crazed as me, go halfsies.

3 pounds of broccoli
1/4 cup olive oil
12 garlic cloves, about a full head, finely chopped
2 pinches red pepper flakes
1 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1 1/2 cup water or broth

1. Cut the heads off the broccoli stalks with a couple inches of stalk attached, roughly cutting the broccoli stalk in half widthwise. Cut the head into individual florets, set aside in one bowl. With the thick stalks, peel them, then slice into strips about 1/4 inch think and 1/2 inch wide, set aside in another bowl.

2. Heat the olive oil in a large Dutch oven or stock pot over medium heat. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes, stirring occasionally until the garlic is lightly browned.

3. Add the stems and water, cover, and cook for about 25 minutes.

4. Add the florets, cover, and cook for about 1 1/2 – 2 hours, stirring occasionally. You can stir vigorously if you’d like it to break down more. If you like the texture, but you’ve got some broth still in the pot, just turn the heat up a bit and leave uncovered until it’s mostly evaporated. Season to taste with additional salt and pepper.

If you wanna get really crazy, add in some butter. Holy.crap.