tilted skillet

beef and lentil picadillo

After last weekend’s Prather Ranch shopping spree, I’ve been thinking a lot about – and cooking lots of – meat and poultry. My freezer currently houses a bewildering assortment of bacon chops, pork scallopini, whole chickens (with heads and feet!), and several packs of ground beef. Eager to make a dent in the protein backlog, I defrosted a one-pound pack of ground beef to whip up a dish that’s fallen into heavy rotation in my kitchen: picadillo.

A Cuban dish of spiced ground beef with lots of sweet and salty components, picadillo is kind of like a grown-up version of the taco filling my mom used to make with scary VONS ground beef and a packet of Lawry’s taco seasoning (sorry, Mom!). Picadillo is great with corn or flour tortillas, or over potatoes, hominy, or rice.

I’m not sure where I first heard of this one-pot wonder, but I used this recipe from Food and Wine as a jumping-off point. And then I jumped way off into the deep end with the kind of recipe adaptations to which my regular dinner guests are well accustomed.

The original recipe calls for one pound of ground chuck and another of ground sirloin. Even with a freezer full of beef and pork, I’m conscious of our household’s collective meat consumption (and of a certain someone’s obsessive In-N-Out habit), and thus substitute a couple cups of brown lentils for one pound of meat. Be mindful of the type of lentil you use, as almost any except brown or French/du Puy will fall apart and make your picadillo exceedingly mushy. In keeping with the rather drab yet oddly appetizing brown hue of this dish, I opt for brown lentils.

Even after cooking, lentils and other legumes tend to suck up any surrounding liquid. To compensate, I add a ½ cup of my favorite pourable salsa. I sometimes sneak a spoonful of this stuff straight from the jar, so it’s not surprising that I’d find a way to work it into a respectable meal. A final note: several of the components in this dish are salty, including the capers, olives, Marcona almonds, and potentially the salsa. Err on the side of under-salting at the beginning until you taste the dish after all of the ingredients have had time to settle in together.

in praise of: the one-jellyroll pan dinner

As much as I love to cook, many nights dinnertime rolls around and I have no idea what I want to make. Sure, a lot of things sound good but as someone who cooks and eats a lot, I usually know if a dish’s prep time exceeds the amount of time I can remain comfortably hungry before going gangbangers on a bag of chips (of the tortilla or seaweed variety). On these nights, I either heed the call of the crispy tortilla and pay the price later with a disappointingly measly appetite, or throw together a surprisingly tasty and supremely easy meal for one or two.

It’s rare that there aren’t odds and ends of vegetables, proteins, and starches stashed in our fridge and freezer. My idea of a dinnertime treasure trove – a handful of kale stems, one fat golden beet, 2/3 cup of frozen chickpeas I’d cooked a couple weeks before – may well be trash (err, compost) to others, but give me a crisper of vegetable leftovers and I’ll make you dinner.  

Such was the direction I went after an afternoon spent indoor rock climbing. My amateurish technique requires me to rely extensively on hauling myself up the faux-granite like an ungainly monkey. By the time we returned home, covered in chalk handprints and nursing tired arms, I knew dinner had come down to two options: the one-cookie sheet dinner or In-N-Out. One of us chose In-N-Out.

In about the same amount of time it took my burger fiend to acquire and inhale two double-doubles and fries, I was able to prepare and enjoy a filling plate of roasted beets, kale stems, and chickpeas. The combination might sound weird, but sprinkled with Meyer lemon juice and truffle oil, and topped with a scoop of something creamy or saucy, such as pesto or hummus thinned with olive oil, it’s pretty delicious. In the last few minutes of roasting, I often put a couple thick slices of artisan bread directly on the oven rack to toast. Drizzled with olive oil or slathered with butter, the grilled bread elevates this meal to something a little less ordinary.

This isn’t a recipe so much as it is a general strategy and set of suggestions. Either way, I’ve broken it down for you into fun diagrams to guide your dinner-planning. Read on, enjoy, and preheat your oven to the magic temperature: obviously, 415°F.

And nearly a dozen tortillas disappear

To say it’s been soup weather lately is an understatement. I know I referenced the weather in my last post but that’s because, in my seven-plus years living in the Bay Area, never have I experienced such consistently cold and inclement weather. In my opinion, there are many things that rain and sub-50°F temperatures make undesirable (although usually still unavoidable): getting out of bed, showering, and bicycling to catch the Caltrain to work are among them. Noticeably absent from this list: picking up CSA poultry and eggs from Soul Food Farm.

I feel so fortunate to have access to pastured eggs and chickens from this small-scale family farm in nearby Vacaville, CA. Once a month, I pack my messenger bag full of fresh chickens and multi-colored eggs before carefully cycling home, doing my best to avoid potholes so as not to prematurely scramble my eggs. This month, we had the option of purchasing stew hens, or laying hens that have reached the end of their useful on-farm lives. Since stew hens aren’t raised for their meat and are past the age at which most meat hens are culled, their meat is generally tougher and less flavorful, and takes well to moist preparations (think braises, stews and soups) or stock. A couple stew hens seemed like the perfect winter purchase, especially since I’d been dreaming up a mouthwatering soup that I knew would be best with homemade stock.

When I tell you that I made a tortilla soup, your immediate thought might be that it’s the type of tortilla soup with fried tortilla strips and big dollops of sour cream atop a brothy chicken-enhanced base. If so, you may be thinking you’ll be disappointed by my version – but hang on, because this tortilla soup received rave reviews, and elicited requests for second helpings, from my four taste-testers. In what I considered a brilliant (although probably not original) move, I dissolved ten toasted Rancho Gordo heirloom corn tortillas into the soup for body and no-cream creaminess. Since I’d devoted the entire stew hen to making stock, I added cooked black beans to bulk the soup up a bit. Hatch green chilies, bell peppers (still in season from Happy Quail Farms), canned tomatoes and a bottle of Mexican beer round out this immensely-satisfying one-bowl meal. Don’t skip the garnishes, as they provide freshness and textural contrast. I served this soup with a refreshing jicama salad, but you could skip a side dish. You may then get requests for third helpings, and I’m not sure what could make a home cook feel better about him/herself. You’re welcome.

Almond-creamed greens

Creamed vegetables sometimes make me nervous, both as an eater and as a cook. While I love nothing more than creamy mushrooms, greens or onions, I tend to approach this decadent treat with the same mentality as I do with any vegetable: eat as much as I want; no questions asked. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with cream, flour and milk (chief components of most creaming techniques), I often end up feeling like I just ate a giant ice cream sundae, minus the fun sugar high. Not ideal.

Most creamed vegetables require a roux, which involves cooking butter and flour together before using it to thicken a sauce, soup or stew. While a useful technique, making a roux usually involves careful monitoring at the threshold of burning, constant stirring, and dirtying an extra pan. Again, not ideal.

Enter almond-creamed greens, a recipe inspired by my coworker, who I believe was inspired by some decadent-sounding kale at Calafia near our office in Palo Alto. My take combines creamy roasted almond butter, home-made almond milk, and lemon juice, vinegar and thyme for freshness. Besides being downright delicious, the greens are a one-dish side (or entrée if, like me, you eat the entire batch). They're vegan and gluten-free so, unless you’re tragically allergic to almonds, you may feel better after eating these greens instead of their traditional counterpart. Ideal! 

Yellow eye bean and jalapeño salad with ginger-grapeseed oil vinaigrette

Sometimes necessity breeds deliciousness. Such was the case with this simple, satisfying and healthy bean salad. After an incredible two weeks of vacation that included the consumption of many hearty meals and frosty desserts (to be expected when given the chance to escape SF’s soggy, foggy excuse of a summer for warmer climes), my body was asking – no, pleading – for plant-based proteins and vegetables. Of course, returning to an overflowing inbox left little time for grocery shopping or culinary creativity. Instead, I relied on some pantry stapes and Yellow Eye beans from the unquestionable top purveyor of dried beans, Rancho Gordo, to throw together a simple salad that suits my post-vacation appetite just fine.

This salad gets a big hit of flavor from the jalapeño and ginger, which I apply with a fairly heavy hand. If you don’t like too much heat, you may want to use only one jalapeño. I recommend procuring meaty heirloom beans like the Yellow Eye beans, which are described on the Rancho Gordo website as having a ‘chowder-like’ texture. If you can’t find heirloom dried beans, feel free to substitute a meaty and mild-flavored variety such as navy or cannellini beans.

Creamy polenta with summer vegetable ragoût and fried chickpeas

There are few edible things as comforting as a bowl of something warm and creamy. Granted, heavy stews, casseroles, polentas and risottos are generally the stuff of winter. The addition of fresh, seasonal vegetables, and citrus zest and juice, however, ably lightens some of these dishes to acceptable summer mains. Such was my thinking for a recent potluck where, as the hostess, I was responsible for a vegetarian entrée.

I meet once a month with a lovely group of women who share my interest in all things sustainable. Most of us work for some sort of eco-minded company, organization or government agency, and while we do discuss relevant topics, we find a good amount of time to socialize and enjoy our vegetarian feast. Since we don’t coordinate dishes ahead of time, the variety (or lack thereof) can be hilarious. One month we’ll have four salads, two desserts and an entrée, or another night enjoy the entrée along with five iterations of pasta, rice or potatoes. There’s nothing like carb-loading in the middle of the workweek. 

This past month brought a good spread of wine, sides, desserts and, of course, the entrée. The desserts, sour cream-spice brownies and a mixed berry pie, made us swoon (see photo of pie above, seconds before we devoured it). I served the polenta family-style in a large, shallow bowl. It’s a good entrée for a dinner party, as the vegetables and chickpeas can be done ahead of time. I wouldn’t recommend pre-cooking the polenta, as soft polenta, when chilled, becomes hard – and doesn’t take very well to reheating and softening. Use whatever vegetables are in season in your region, but don’t be afraid to use canned tomatoes if, as was the case at my local farmers market, your local tomatoes are unavailable, of inferior quality, and/or grown in a hothouse (which I try to avoid for environmental reasons).

And the fried chickpeas? Don’t skip them or use plain ‘ole chickpeas. The crunchy little balls are a surprising revelation, and since they’re both a) beans and b) fried in grapeseed oil, they’re practically a health food.

Beer, sausages and…Chana dal

Breakfast of champions at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market: kimchi fried rice, sausage gravy and biscuits, toad in the hole

My brother and his girlfriend visited over the weekend. We were blessed with incredible weather (I have the sunburn to prove it), fun activities (beer festival, sightseeing and wine tasting – enough said) and great food (rabbit crepinette and kumquat toffee cake at Magnolia Pub & Brewery, kimchi fried rice at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, arepas at Pica Pica in Oxbow and porchetta sandwiches from Fatted Calf). After a weekend of much sun, a surprising quantity of beer and wine – for me at least – and clearly indulgent food (see above photo), I was in dire need of something comforting and less-carnivorous.

Enter my savior, the humble bean.

Although I prefer to soak most legumes and grains before cooking, I cheated this time and threw a cupful of dried Chana dal (split chickpeas) in the slow cooker before running brother and girlfriend to the airport. On the solo drive back from the airport, I mentally constructed the salad with a light, coconut-infused dressing and plenty of scallions and cilantro for crunch and freshness. This salad is delicious warm, cold, or at room temperature. Lettuce leaves, naan and pita bread make good vehicles for this salad, but it’s certainly enjoyable alone. I’ve happily eaten it for breakfast and lunch the past couple days, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the coconut hadn’t turned soggy. I probably would have eaten it with soggy coconut, but wouldn’t have tried to slip a fast one like that past you.