Showing posts with label Mains. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mains. Show all posts

Friday, June 19, 2009

Strawberry and Avocado Salad: An Exercise in CAPITAL LETTERS and Fat Reduction

I’m pretty ambivalent about salads. They’re okay, but I’d order almost anything else before paying for a staid pile of lackluster leafy greens. Still, I like strawberries. And I like avocado. And I like pecans. And this dressing sounded tasty. So I thought I’d give AllRecipes’ Strawberry and Avocado Salad a try.

Sounds neato, right? I thought so. However, there was one minor issue: namely, 609 calories and FIFTY-POINT-SEVEN grams of fat per serving. I realize numbers higher than eleven aren’t usually spelled out. I wanted some extra emphasis there.

Now, healthy oils are dandy, but to reiterate: FIFTY-POINT-SEVEN grams of fat? In a freakin’ salad? You gotta be kidding me. This wasn’t in the realm of possibility. In fact, I couldn’t even see the realm of possibility from where I read the recipe. That’s how far away it was.

But shucks, I still wanted the salad. Strawberries and avocado? C’mon. It’s like Christmas in summer. So, I made some changes. I dropped 75% of the pecans, 50% of the avocado, and added 50% more salad greens.

The result was three main course salads for … wait for it … 222 calories and FIFTEEN-POINT-THREE grams of fat. Those three dinky alterations meant 387 lost calories and THIRTY-FIVE-POINT-SEVEN lost grams of fat. And? If you don’t use all the dressing (we didn’t), the numbers drop even lower than that.

It still tasted great, to boot. No one flavor was overwhelming, we avoided mushiness, and divided among three plates, the sweetness was just right. The Husband-Elect and I ate it with a lovely bean concoction and a slice of last week’s Buttermilk-Vanilla Pound Cake. HEAVEN.

With that said, hope y’all have a lovely weekend. It’s been a wet June - great for food photos, bad for people. New Yorkers, stay dry!

P.S. Update on Monday’s post! We got our feet wet at the farmer’s market and hauled back some ground beef, fancy bacon, a loaf o’ whole wheat bread, and a dozen eggs. So far, the bread was quite tasty and the egg … well, it wasn’t just an egg. It was AN EGG. It asserted itself in my mouth, and I appreciate that. Next stop: Bacon City.

Strawberry and Avocado Salad
Makes 3 main dishes or 4 sides
Adapted from AllRecipes.

2 tablespoons white sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 teaspoons honey
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 teaspoon lemon juice
3 cups torn salad greens (I used romaine. – Kris)
½ small avocado (about 2 ounces) - peeled, pitted and sliced into 1” pieces
10 strawberries, sliced
1/8 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts or almonds)

In a medium bowl, combine sugar, olive oil, honey, vinegar, and lemon juice. Whisk it all together and reserve 2 tablespoons dressing in a teacup. Add salad greens to bowl. Toss gently with dressing. Place avocado and strawberries on top of salad. Drizzle with the 2 tablespoons of dressing. Top with pecans. Serve.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
Three servings: 222 calories, 15.3 g fat, $1.02
Four servings: 167 calories, 11.5 g fat, $0.76

Calculations
2 tablespoons white sugar: 93 calories, 0 g fat, $0.04
2 tablespoons olive oil: 237 calories, 27 g fat, $0.24
4 teaspoons honey: 85 calories, 0 g fat, $0.13
1 tablespoon cider vinegar: 3 calories, 0 g fat, $0.02
1 teaspoon lemon juice: 2 calories, 0 g fat, $0.11
3 cups torn salad greens (romaine): 24 calories, 0.4 g fat, $0.45
½ avocado (about 2 ounces) - peeled, pitted, and sliced into 1-inch pieces: 91 calories, 8.3 g fat $0.75
10 strawberries, sliced: 38 calories, 0.4 g fat, $1.00
1/8 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts or almonds): 94 calories, 9.8 g fat, $0.31
TOTAL: 667 calories, 45.9 g fat, $3.05
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 222 calories, 15.3 g fat, $1.02
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 167 calories, 11.5 g fat, $0.76

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Veggie Might: Quinoa with Mustard Greens and Shiitake Mushrooms - Back on the Lunch Wagon

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

Dear Readers, thank you all for your insightful, helpful suggestions and comments over the last week. You are amazing. Stay tuned to this space for more super veggie action.

So, I have a confession too. I’ve been a bad frugal eater of late. In the past few months, I have slacked off from brown-bagging my lunches every day. This lapse is mostly due to a combination of work overload and personal commitments, but laziness plays a big factor.

It’s an age-old story: woman works a 10 hour day, woman makes 30-minute walk home, on the way woman grabs something quick from the store not thinking about the next day—only that cookies sound good right now. Woman mindlessly buys a bunch of mustard greens, some shitake mushrooms, and a package of Ginger-Os.

At home, exhausted, dog walked, woman is too tired to think of anything to fix for dinner, let alone lunch for tomorrow. Woman eats cookies while watching reruns of House and Dr. G, Medical Examiner.

The next day: oh the regret. Woman must face midtown Manhattan for lunch, where a salad can run nearly $8. Woman’s alternative is the corporate cafeteria, where options are limited, but somewhat cheaper. Woman vows to bring lunch tomorrow.

So I did. That night I opened my pantry and stared, though the dog and the Ginger-Os called me to join them on the couch. An idea began to form. My recent practice of Asian cooking from books (thanks Madhur) gave me the courage do a little experimenting.

I pulled down quinoa and dried chilies. I had fresh ginger and shallots on hand, plus the mustard greens and mushrooms from my zombiefied shopping trip. The shitakes were an obvious splurge (at 5.99 for 1/2 lb!—that’s what the sign said, the tricksters). But I only got 2 ounces, and once it a while, it’s nice to treat yourself.

Before I knew it, I had whipped up a fast, easy, and super tasty meal. And as I suspected, it was ten-times better the next day for lunch. And even with the expensive mushrooms, it came in way under what I would have spent on lunch in the neighborhood or the company café.

The shallots, ginger, and chilies get sautéed in a bit of oil to release the flavors. The greens go in, and as they wilt, so do the coarsely sliced mushrooms. After about five minutes, a bit of broth is added and the whole thing simmers for another five. Toss it over quinoa and voila! Spicy and satisfying.

It’s been a while since I improvised a dish, and almost as long since I cooked with lunch in mind. It felt great. When I cook on the weekend, I usually manage to have leftovers for a couple of workdays, but I know I can do better. Now, I’m back on the bandwagon.

Now if I can just replace the cookies for supper…

Quinoa with Mustard Greens and Shitake Mushrooms
Serves 2 as entrée
Serves 3 as side
(Note: this picture comes from a similar recipe at a blog called Lots of Stuff. Leigh's camera is acting up, so we found a photo that best approximates the dish. - Kris)

1/2 cup quinoa (makes approx. 1 1/4 cups cooked)
2 + 1/4 cups water or vegetable broth

1 1/2 tsp olive oil
1 shallot (2 cloves), minced
2 tbsp fresh ginger, diced
2 dried red chilies (pinky finger sized)
4 cups mustard greens (approx. 1/2 lb)
2 oz shitake mushrooms, thickly sliced

1) Start quinoa. Rinse well and add to saucepan with 2 cups of boiling water or vegetable broth. Cook for about 15 minutes, or until rings separate from the seeds. Drain and set aside. Reserve excess broth.

2) Prep vegetables. Mince shallots, wash and remove stems from mustard greens. It’s okay if they are still wet from washing. Cut into wide ribbons. Remove dirt from mushrooms with a napkin or towel. Cut into wide slices.

3) In a heavy skillet or wok, heat oil on medium high and add shallots. Sauté for 2–3 minutes until they start to become clear. Stir in diced ginger and dried chilies. Reduce heat to medium and continue to sauté for 3 more minutes or until shallots are clear.

4) Add mustard greens and stir to combine. The greens will wilt quickly.

5) Add mushrooms and combine well.

6) If the quinoa is still cooking, carefully scoop about 1/8 cup of broth and add to greens mixture. Otherwise, use 1/8 of reserve broth. Cover and simmer for 5 minutes or so.

7) Toss greens with quinoa and you are good to go. Oh, so good.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
(Totals/2): 257 calories, 6g fat, $1.95
(Totals/3): 171 calories, 4g fat, $1.30

Calculations
1/2 cup quinoa: 313 calories, 5g fat, $1.39
1/4 cup vegetable broth: 3 calories, 0g fat, $.05
1 1/2 tsp olive oil: 60 calories, 7g fat, $.04
1 shallot: 40 calories, 0g fat, $.12
2 tbsp fresh ginger: 12 calories, 0g fat, $.05
2 dried red chilies: negligible calories and fat, $.02
4 cups mustard greens: 60 calories, 0g fat, $.75
2 oz shitake mushrooms: 26 calories, 0g fat, $1.49
TOTALS: 514 calories, 12g fat, $3.91
PER SERVING: (totals/2): 257 calories, 6g fat, $1.95
PER SERVING: (totals/3): 171 calories, 4g fat, $1.30

(By subbing a less costly ‘shroom, the amount of green needed for this dish goes way down.)

Friday, May 29, 2009

Pasta with Eggplant, Zucchini, and Tomatoes, Plus a Very Important Question

(Readers! Leigh of Veggie Might fame is looking for suggestions for future columns. If you can buzz in with a few ideas, 'twould be ever so lovely. Woot!)

Normally, this is where we talk about food. But earlier this week, I had a dream. I was in the dream as myself, and a man – I couldn’t really see his face – asked me a clear, pointed question that I considered very seriously, but could not answer. Since then, I’ve spent my waking hours pondering the ins and outs of the inquiry, with no definitive conclusion.

That question was this: “Is Frankenstein technically a zombie?”

Compared to queries like “What is the soul?” and “Why is the sky blue?” it’s relatively minor, but SWEET BEA ARTHUR the dang thing’s been killing me. You can argue it every which way, and I’m borderline convinced there’s no real solution.

I’m tempted to say yes, Frankenstein IS a zombie, as he is reanimated tissue – a dead guy brought back to semi-life through artificial, somewhat supernatural means. His only real pastime is lurching, and while he doesn’t quite seem homicidal (as zombies naturally are), the possibility for destruction is always there. Essentially, he’s a mindless corpse, which is the very definition of a zombie.

The Husband-Elect argues that Frankenstein has a beating heart and a borderline working brain, making him fundamentally alive. (Zombies being mostly dead, with organ activity necessary only for movement.) Furthermore, he says the Monster can be killed, where as zombies must be chopped into itty-bitty pieces to end their terrible quest for nourishment. Finally, H-E claims Frankie DOES, in fact, have human qualities that separate him from the shuffling hordes. His exact quote: “He craves knowledge, not brains.”

So … I don’t know. I can see both points, and it’s making me crazy. Readers, do you have any light to shine here? Because I’ll sleep better knowing one way or the other.

With that done, let’s get to the food: Serious Eats' Pasta with Eggplant, Zucchini, and Tomatoes is a tasty, simple Italian dish with deep flavor developed quickly. It makes good use of in-season vegetables, and the sauce can be altered any number of ways to fit your liking. If you should give it a shot, know the following:

1) To be able to cut back on the olive oil, I used a nonstick skillet. If you use a non-nonstick skillet, more fat might have to be involved to prevent burning.

2) After 15 minutes sautéing by themselves, my eggplant and zucchini were mostly cooked, but could have used a little more time. That’s noted in the directions.

3) We got two dinners and two office lunches out of this, so I think it could definitely make four separate meals. For heartier eaters, the three portions are plentiful.

4) Both Frankenstein and zombies would enjoy the dish, though they might prefer it with a side of brains.

And that’s it for the week. Hope y’all have a lovely weekend filled with summer vegetables and deep philosophical questions about fictional monsters. Really, it’s the only way to live. (To LIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!)

Pasta with Eggplant, Zucchini, and Tomatoes
Serves 3 to 4
Adapted from Serious Eats.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (vegetable oil also acceptable)
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 can (28-ounce) crushed tomatoes
4 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons dried oregano (or Italian Seasoning, though beware of rosemary sticks)
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 pound eggplant, ends removed and chopped into 1-inch cubes
1/2 pound zucchini, ends removed, sliced into 1-inch slices
3/4 pound pasta
Salt and black pepper
1/4 cup parmesan

1) In a medium pot, heat 1/2 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Add garlic. Cook 30 to 60 seconds, until you can smell it. Add tomatoes, parsley, oregano, red pepper flakes, and a little salt and pepper. Boil. Once it's boiling, drop heat to medium-low and simmer 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

2) While that's happening, in a separate large, nonstick skillet, heat remaining oil over medium-high heat. Add eggplant, zucchini, and a little salt and pepper. Cook until the veggies are a bit browned and softening up, 15 to 20 minutes.

3) Pour tomato sauce into eggplant mixture. Cook 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. If it starts to dry out, add pasta water. About that pasta...

4) While the sauce and eggplant mixture is coming together, cook pasta in salted water until al dente. Drain.

5) When tomato/eggplant mixture is done, pour pasta in a large bowl. Pour tomato/eggplant mixture on top of it. Top with cheese.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
Three servings: 658 calories, 14.4 g fat, $1.67
Four servings: 493 calories, 10.8 g fat, $1.25

Calculations
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil: 239 calories, 27 g fat, $0.23
2 cloves garlic, chopped: 9 calories, 0 g fat, $0.10
1 can (28-ounce) crushed tomatoes: 254 calories, 2.4 g fat, $1.39
4 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped: 5 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.44
2 tablespoons dried oregano: 18 calories, 0.6 g fat, $0.21
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
1 pound eggplant, ends removed and chopped into 1-inch cubes: 109 calories, 0.9 g fat, $0.97
1/2 pound zucchini, ends removed, sliced into 1-inch slices: 36 calories, 0.5 g fat, $0.45
3/4 pound pasta: 1217 calories, 6.1 g fat, $0.50
Salt and black pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
1/4 cup parmesan: 86 calories, 5.7 g fat, $0.68
TOTAL: 1973 calories, 43.3 g fat, $5.01
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 658 calories, 14.4 g fat, $1.67
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 493 calories, 10.8 g fat, $1.25

Friday, May 22, 2009

Gallo Pinto and Happy Accidents

Over at Casual Kitchen, Dan’s first rule of cooking from a book is this: read the recipe twice before you even think of approaching an oven.

And he’s right. It can’t be overstated. Scanning a recipe multiple times ensures you have all the ingredients on hand, the time to make everything, technical clarity, and no last-minute surprises. (“Crap! I needed a lime?”) Conversely, not reading instructions twice (or at all) can have horrific results, like disease, war, or – god forbid - Sandra Lee’s Kwanzaa Cake.

Occasionally, though, mistakes can’t be helped. You can memorize the damn thing, and still confuse a chop for a mince, a teaspoon for a tablespoon, or an onion for a Funion.

Case in point: Gallo Pinto. It’s a jazzed-up Costa Rican version of rice and beans, and Serious Eats recently posted a not-quite-authentic-but-much-faster recipe for it on their blog. The picture looked tasty and colorful, so I copied it into Word and went to town.

Stupidly, despite reading the directions approximately 400 times, I used a CAN of beans (with liquid) in my pot instead of a CUP. Yikes. This made the dish much wetter than it was supposed to be, and threatened to turn supper into a Waterworld-caliber disaster.

Then, something funny happened. Panicked, I added an extra 1/2-cup of rice and a few more seconds of cooking time, and *POOF* the food morphed into something completely, wonderfully edible. It was a little moister, I think, than the original recipe, but deliciousness nonetheless. Victory was snatched from the jaws of defeat, and dinner was saved.

Of course, if you should try it yourself, know the following:

1) Sometimes cilantro can seem kind of extraneous, but in this case, I really thought it was vital to the dish. A small handful at the end brightens up the whole shebang.

2) Gallo Pinto’s been taste-tested and approved for an office lunch, meaning it transports well and is just as good cold as it is warm.

3) I wondered if throwing four tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce into the mix would be insane, but went ahead with it anyway. Surprise! It melded quite nicely, bestowing a unexpected smoky flavor on everything.

4) Vegetarians and vegans! If you want to make this a non-meat dish, simply substitute vegetarian Worcestershire sauce in for the regular stuff.

5) This is a full, weeknight-appropriate meal. No need for a side or a salad, though a glass of wine makes all good food even better.

Ultimately, you should still peruse recipes as thoroughly as possible before stepping foot into your kitchen. But if you mess up, don’t worry. Everyone makes mistakes. And at least it’s not Kwanzaa Cake.

Gallo Pinto
Serves 3
Adapted from Serious Eats

1 tablespoon canola oil
1 onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1-1/2 cups cooked rice
1 can black beans, with liquid
4 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (or Salsa Lizano)
Salt and black pepper
Handful of cilantro, chopped

1) In a large skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add onion and red pepper. Saute 10 minutes. Add garlic. Cook 30 to 60 seconds, until fragrant. Add beans and Worcestershire sauce. Stir thoroughly. Cook 3 minutes. If it gets dry (which it shouldn't, with the bean liquid), add water. Add rice. Stir. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve topped with cilantro.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
310 calories, 5.7 g fat, $1.40

Calculations
1 tablespoon canola oil: 124 calories, 14 g fat, $0.07
1 onion, chopped: 46 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.26
1 red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and chopped: 43 calories, 0.5 g fat, $1.38
2 cloves garlic, chopped: 9 calories, 0 g fat, $0.10
1-1/2 cups cooked rice: 307 calories, 0.8 g fat, $0.18
1 can black beans, with liquid: 350 calories, 1.8 g fat, $0.85
4 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce: 50 calories, 0 g fat, $0.88
Salt and black pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
Handful of cilantro, chopped: negligible calories and fat, $0.45
TOTAL: 929 calories, 17.2 g fat, $4.19
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 310 calories, 5.7 g fat, $1.40

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Veggie Might: Chlorophyll and Awesomness Salad (or, Need Salad Now)

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

There are times when all I want is salad. Often those times follow periods of bad eating, but this most recent salad fixation is inspired by all the garden-related food porn in the blogosphere.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve been a slave to the glorious photos of asparagus, radishes, green beans, and leafy lettuce.

I mean seriously, check out this radish salad and tell me you don’t want to just stick your face in there? Or this bowlful of chlorophyll and awesomeness? The Kitchn needs to rein it in or I’m going to pack up and move to wherever it is.

These salads inspired me to create something green and gorgeous to shove in my face—STAT. At my local market, I chose a cheapo, yet stunning, bunch of arugula, asparagus, green beans, red onion, and radishes.

Before I got these beauties home, I was plotting my attack. Blanch the asparagus, beans, and radishes; toss with the arugula and onion; and make a vinaigrette dressing to go with it.

Mark Bittman’s Basic Vinaigrette is my go-to dressing. It can be modified to suit your needs (as MB indicates in his post), but is delicious just as it is. Since I learned to make my own, I haven’t bought dressing from a supermarket. It’s so much cheaper, and it keeps a down the fridge clutter when made in small batches.

This salad whips up fast and easy. Blanching is quick and leaves the veggies al dente. You just boil your vegetables for a couple of minutes and then plunge them into an ice bath to stop the cooking. It’s a great technique for salad toppings.

The green beans and asparagus came out perfect. Blanching took the edge off the radishes, but they retained their peppery snap. Tossed with the arugula and onion, the tangy vinaigrette tied it all together.

Now, my photos aren’t as pretty as the pictures I’ve been lusting after, but this salad exceeded my fantasies.

Chlorophyll and Awesomeness Salad
Inspired by Tortellini and Spring Vegetable Salad
Yields 4 servings

1 medium bunch arugula
4 radishes, thinly sliced
1/2 lb asparagus, snapped into 1” pieces
3 oz green beans, snapped into 1” pieces
1/8 red onion, slice into crescents
dress to taste

1) Chop/slice veggies. Remove stems, wash, and drain arugula.

2) Bring 1–1 1/2 cups water to a boil in medium saucepan. Fill a large bowl with water and ice cubes.

3) Add asparagus and green beans to boiling water. Set time for 2–3 minutes.

4) When the timer goes off, add radishes to boiling water and reset for 1 minute.

5) When the timer goes off, drain veggies and plunge them into the ice water.

6) Dry and toss with onion and arugula. Dress with to taste.

7) Bask for a moment in the green glow and dive in.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
21.75 calories, 1.2g fat, $.54

Calculations
1 medium bunch arugula: 15 calories, .3, $1.00
4 radishes: 4 calories, 0g fat, $.20
6 oz asparagus: 36 calories, .5g fat, $.74
3 oz green beans: 27 calories, .4g fat, $.18
1/8 red onion: 5 calories, 0g fat, $.06
Totals: 87 calories, $2.18
Per Serving: 21.75 calories, 1.2g fat, $.54

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

City Kitchen Chronicles: Lentils with Burnt Onions

City Kitchen Chronicles is a bi-weekly column about living frugally in Manhattan. It's penned by the lovely Jaime.

I never thought of myself as liking lentils particularly much. Sure, lentil soup can be great, but lentils themselves? Meh. And then a couple of weeks ago I made a big batch for some in-the-end underwhelming lentil burgers, and had about a cup of lentils leftover. I took a bite. I added a little salt. A bit of ketchup. And I was in heaven.

Lentils, like beans and kale, are a food I’m happy to discover a love of. They’re super-cheap, going for $1.65/lb or so by me, and super-healthy, an excellent source of fiber, iron, B-vitamins, and good vegetably protein.

So when I was catching up on some blog reading (right now my bloglines subscriptions have 1068 unread items – whoops?) and came across a recipe for burnt onions over lentils and rice, my attention was piqued.

Let me get this straight – as tasty as carmelized onions, but twice as fast and way less precise to make? And goes great over cheap healthy superstars lentils and rice? All with ingredients I have?

Mark Bittman says, “Burn those onions,” and I say, “Okay!”

The Bitten post opens with an exchange that makes me feel like all this time there’s been a division in the world I didn’t even know existed – between those who know about burnt onions, and those who don’t:
A friend came over the other day.

“What did you have for lunch?”
he asked.

“Lentils and rice.”

“I hope you made crispy
burnt onions.”

As a matter of fact I had, and we had a communing
food moment about how this was one of the greatest pairings ever.
I had no idea! But, well, now I do (or did), and I set to work pretty quickly. I had lentils and rice, I had a nice big yellow onion. I can’t really bear to make a meal without some good vegetable representation (and can’t bear to let onions be the only ones), so I added some diced carrots (Why does no one ever talk about how dirt cheap carrots are? $0.79/lb. It’s amazing.) and a few handfuls of baby spinach, a bit of a splurge, for that I’m-eating-green-vegetables feeling.

While the vegetables were cooking I kept worrying over my lentils and rice. Cooked plain and mixed together they were so bland, and even salt wasn’t bringing out any flavor. My thoughts turned to my beloved lentil soup recipe, and I reached for balsamic vinegar. Turns out I’m a total freaking genius – the sweet/sour vinegar with the sweet/bitter onions is magical.

Not that the moral here is “I’m a genius.” It’s more “this is a delicious, easy meal” and “Thank you Mark Bittman.” I’m very glad to be in the burnt-onion club, and invite you to join in as well.

(Note that if you’re going to be reheating this for lunches, you may want to omit the spinach. It can get weird and oddly overpowering after the microwave. This also cuts each serving’s cost by about $0.30.)

Lentils with Burnt Onions (And Some Other Things)
(adapted from Mark Bittman)
serves 2, but easily increasable

1 cup cooked brown rice
1 cup cooked lentils (use black or green – red lentils will turn to mush)
2 medium onions, halved and sliced
3 medium carrots, diced
a few handfuls of baby spinach (about 1 cup)
1 T canola or mild olive oil
3 T balsamic vinegar, or to taste
salt to taste

1) Heat oil in a pan over medium-high. When it’s good and hot, add the onions (they should sizzle). Add a little salt.

2) Cook onions until they start to brown, stirring occasionally. Lower the heat a little, and keep cooking, stirring more frequently.

3) In the meantime, combine lentils and rice in a big bowl. Salt to taste. Add balsamic vinegar, set aside.

4) When the onions are pretty shriveled, about 15 minutes or so, add the carrots, and cook until onions are blackened and blistered in spots. (Add your carrots earlier if you like them more cooked.)

5) Stir in spinach; cook just until it’s wilted.

6) Add veggies to rice and lentil mixture. Salt to taste. Enjoy!

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
384.5 calories, 9 g fat, $1.08

Calculations
1 cup cooked brown rice: 215 calories, 2 g fat, $0.11
1 cup cooked lentils: 220 calories, 1 g fat, $0.37
2 medium onions: 88 calories, 0.5 g fat, $0.40
3 medium carrots: 75 calories, 0.5 g fat, $0.25
1 cup baby spinach: 7 calories, 0 g fat, $0.63
1 T canola oil: 124 calories, 14 g fat, $0.07
3 T balsamic vinegar: 40 calories, 0 g fat, $0.30
salt to taste: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
TOTAL: 769 calories, 18 g fat, $2.15
PER SERVING (TOTAL/2): 384.5 calories, 9 g fat, $1.08

Friday, May 1, 2009

Shirataki Noodles: The Review

It’s been a freakin’ bowl of cherries, but National Ants Are Invading My Kitchen Week has finally come to an end. The Boyfriend and I went Wolverine on them a few days ago, and have seen nary an antennae or thorax since. In retrospect, it’s a relief they were only ants, and not the pterodactyl-sized “waterbugs” that tend to hang around my fine borough in warmer weather. (Note: KNOCKING ON MANY PIECES OF WOOD.)

For the first post-insect dish, I decided to try shirataki noodles. There are several different kinds of these guys, but recently, the tofu variety from House Foods has become particularly huge, thanks to exhaustive endorsements from Hungry Girl.

When it comes to dieters and folks with allergies, there are definite advantages to choosing shirataki noodles over pasta or rice. House Foods brand is vegan, gluten-free, cholesterol-free, and relatively guilt-free. Each ½-cup serving comes out to about 20 calories, and sources say they generally take well to Asian-style dishes. While there’s a rinsing process, the noodles don’t need to be boiled for any length of time, making them conveniently heat-n-serve.

However (and there’s always a however), there are drawbacks. First, some claim shirataki noodles aren’t much good in Italian dishes. Second, the lighter caloric load means they won’t necessarily fill you up, either.

Finally – and most significantly - there’s the price. Shirataki noodles come in 8-oz. bags filled with water (for preservation). After draining, this is just about a single cup of actual noodles. My Key Food charges $1.50 for this on sale, or $0.75 per ½-cup serving. Of noodles. Just noodles.

To compare, a single 1-lb. box of Ronzoni thin spaghetti costs $0.66 on sale, and produces about four cups of cooked pasta. That’s roughly $0.08 per ½-cup serving. Rice noodles are more expensive, at about $0.45 per ½-serving, but are still a bargain comparatively. I’m not even gonna get into rice itself, because my brain hurts now.

Of course, the deciding factor for any food should be its taste. And in that sense, the shirataki noodles were okay. Not good, not bad. Just okay. They barely have a flavor, actually. I prepared them with peppers, onions, chicken, and Cook’s Illustrated Orange Sesame Stir Fry Sauce, and they blended seamlessly into the mix. I suspect they’d go very well with ramen-style dishes, too.

Ultimately, my verdict is this: unless you have allergies, certain dietary restrictions, or are a VERY beginning dieter, shirataki noodles may not be the best buy. There are tastier, significantly cheaper ways to cut calories.

Have a great weekend everyone. Monday, we're back to bug-free posting. (To repeat: wood, she is being knocked on.)

Orange Sesame Stir Fry with Shirataki Noodles
Serves 3 or 4
Adapted from Cook's Illustrated Best 30-Minute Recipe.


½ cup orange juice
¼ cup soy sauce, plus 1 separate teaspoon
¼ cup low-sodium chicken broth
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 lb. skinless, boneless chicken breast, cut into 1-inch pieces
3 bell peppers (any kind), sliced into strips
1 medium onion, sliced into thick strips
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced
1 bag House Foods shirataki noodles, drained and rinsed

1) In a small bowl, combine orange juice. 1/4 cup soy sauce, broth, sesame oil, and cornstarch. Whisk it all together. Set aside. In a separate medium bowl, coat chicken in the other 1 teaspoon of soy sauce.

2) In a large skillet or wok, heat 2 teaspoons veggie oil over medium-high heat. Cook the chicken until browned. Using tongs, remove it to a dish

3) Add 1 tablespoon veggie oil to the skillet. Add veggies. Saute them until they're crisp-tender, another few minutes.

4) Spread veggies around the perimeter of the pan and add the remaining 1 teaspoon of veggie oil. Add garlic and ginger. Cook 30 to 60 seconds, until fragrant.

5) Add chicken back to skillet and stir everything together. Heat until warmed, a minute or two.

6) Re-whisk orange-sesame sauce, and add it to skillet. Bring everything up to a simmer. Cook for another minute or two, until the sauce is thickened. (It will thicken. Don't worry.) Add noodles and warm through. Serve.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
Three servings: 389 calories, 15.4 g fat, $1.87
Four servings: 291 calories, 11.6 g fat, $1.40

Calculations
½ cup orange juice: 55 calories, 0 g fat, $0.16
¼ cup soy sauce, plus 1 separate teaspoon: 37 calories, 0 g fat, $0.40
¼ cup low-sodium chicken broth: 22 calories, 0.75 g fat, $0.06
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil: 80 calories, 9 g fat, $0.12
2 teaspoons cornstarch: 20 calories, 0 g fat, $0.02
2 tablespoons vegetable oil: 256 calories, 29 g fat, $0.18
1 lb. skinless, boneless chicken breast, cut into 1-inch pieces: 497 calories, 5.4 g fat, $1.69
3 bell peppers (any kind), sliced into strips: 98 calories, 1 g fat, $1.09
1 medium onion, sliced into thick strips: 46 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.24
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger: 5 calories, 0 g fat, $0.03
2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced: 11 calories, 0 g fat, $0.12
1 bag House Foods shirataki noodles, drained and rinsed: 40 calories, $1.50
TOTAL: 1167 calories, 46.25 g fat, $5.61
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 389 calories, 15.4 g fat, $1.87
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 291 calories, 11.6 g fat, $1.40

Friday, April 24, 2009

Pasta with Turkey Sausage and Broccoli Rabe: A Psychic Phenomena

I thought I was a genius.

I thought I was doing something new.

I thought, when I paired turkey crumbles with rapini and piled them into a mound of al dente rotini WITHOUT USING A RECIPE, that I was the first person in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD to try that combination.

I was wrong.

Though the type of pasta and some of the ingredient quantities were slightly different, 20 seconds of research revealed that Giada DeLaurentiis has the exact recipe up on the Food Network site – the same cooking procedure, even. It’s called Orecchiette with Turkey Sausage and Broccoli Rabe, and it has over 100 reviews, making it not quite unknown, either. Doy.

On one hand, this meant I could use her cooking directions as a guide to write my own. On the other hand, it meant I hadn’t discovered the recipe that would win me $12 billion on some kind of Grand Poobah Pasta Cooking Challenge. Giada had already done the dirty work, probably years ago. Dang.

But it wasn’t all bad, see. A few seconds after realizing the similarities, a great feeling of triumph washed over me: I had inadvertently duplicated a real-life professional recipe. One that’d actually been published. Online. In BOOKS, even. When you’re still learning the ropes, that’s a victory on par with golf’s U.S. Open, only waaaaay less boring.

In the end, I may not be a great chef, or a particularly creative one. But I AM, apparently, an accidental psychic, and that’s okay by me. Happy weekend, folks.

Pasta with Turkey Sausage and Broccoli Rabe
Inadvertently adapted from Giada DeLaurentiis.
Serves 3

1 bunch broccoli rabe, stems trimmed
9 ounces rotini, penne, or other small-ish pasta
1 to 1-1/2 tablespoons olive oil
2 links Italian-style turkey sausage, casings removed (I used sweet. – Kris)
3 garlic cloves, minced
Pinch dried crushed red pepper flakes
2 to 3 tablespoons grated Parmesan

1) Bring a big pot of water to a boil. (While this is happening, fill a bowl with cold water and a few ice cubes.) Once the water pot starts boiling, add salt. Add broccoli rabe. Cook 1 minute. Using tongs, transfer rabe to the ice bath. (DON'T DRAIN THE POT.)

2) Once the cooking water is boiling again, add the pasta. Cook until al dente. Drain, saving about 1/2 cup cooking water.

3) In a big pan or skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add sausage. Brown it, breaking it up with the back of your spoon. It should take 10 or 12 minutes. Add garlic and pepper flakes. Cook 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.

4) Drain broccoli rabe. Add it to sausage. Stir. Add pasta. Stir again. If using, add cooking water now. Add parmesan. Stir until thoroughly combined. Serve.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
490 calories, 13.7 g fat, $1.04

Calculations
1 bunch broccoli rabe, stems trimmed: 60 calories, 0 g fat, $0.99
9 ounces rotini, penne, or other small-ish pasta: 913 calories, 4.6 g fat, $0.37
1 to 1-1/2 tablespoons olive oil: 149 calories, 16.9 g fat, $0.18
2 links Italian-style turkey sausage, casings removed: 280 calories, 16 g fat, $0.99
3 garlic cloves, minced: 13 calories, 0 g fat, $0.15
Pinch dried crushed red pepper flakes: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
2 to 3 tablespoons grated Parmesan: 54 calories, 3.6 g fat, $0.43
TOTAL: 1469 calories, 41.1 g fat, $3.13
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 490 calories, 13.7 g fat, $1.04

Monday, April 20, 2009

Swiss Chard With Pinto Beans and Goat Cheese: After the Fire

(Hey folks! Today on Serious Eats, I recount my tentative step into the wide world of tofu. The good news: after whipping up a Sweet and Spicy stirfry from All Recipes, I’d do it again. The bad news: there is no bad news, making this an extraneous sentence.)

About two years ago, right before I started this blog, I attempted to make Swiss Chard With White Beans from a recipe I found online. Ignorant to the world of chard, I shoved a bunch in a big pot with a little water, turned the heat to high, and abandoned it for about 15 minutes.

You know how it smells when hair burns? Like, when you get too close to your birthday cake and singe your bangs? Or you try to ignite a lighter for a college comedy sketch, and you accidentally spark your left eyebrow, turning part of it white? This was like that, only possessing distinct undernotes of leafy greenness.

Turned out, chard is not supposed to be left unsupervised in a closed vessel over open flames. Besides creating an apartment-wide stink bomb, I also burned the sides of Rachel’s big pot to ashy black oblivion. As I recounted in this September 2008 post, chard’s been a non-entity in my kitchen ever since. Also, I still owe Rach a new pot.

Happily, that chardlessness ended this weekend, with a big ol’ batch of Swiss Chard With Pinto Beans and Goat Cheese from All Recipes. This stuff was good – even better than I expected, and I expected pretty great things.

The recipe starts simply by sautéing and steaming a behemoth bunch of chard over butter and olive oil, then adding beans, tomatoes, and – get this – lime juice. Say what? Yep.

Then, everything’s topped with a smattering of goat cheese, and thrown into a 350°F oven for about 15 minutes, or just enough time to warm the frommage. The result is savory, creamy, substantial, and bright all at the once. Needless to say, I will be making it again. Perhaps several times. Perhaps on a Tuesday.

In conclusion, welcome back, Swiss chard! I missed you, and promise never to scorch you and/or your cooking implement beyond recognition again.

Also, Rach, I swear that pot is coming.

Swiss Chard with Pinto Beans and Goat Cheese
Makes 5 good-sized side servings
Adapted from All Recipes.

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 tablespoon butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pinch red pepper flakes
1 huge bunch Swiss chard (or 2 smaller bunches) - rinsed, stems removed, and cut into 1/2 inch slices
1 (15.5 ounce) can pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 small tomato, seeded and chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2 ounces crumbled goat cheese

1) Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat an 8x8 baking dish with cooking spray.

2) In a large skillet or pan, heat oil and butter over medium heat. Once butter is melted, add garlic and red pepper flakes. Saute 30 to 60 seconds. Add Swiss chard. Cover. Cook 4 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add pintos, tomato, lime juice, salt, and pepper. Stir. Cover again. Cook a few more minutes, until chard is totally wilted.  .

3) Pour mixture into baking dish. Spread out evenly and push down a little bit. Dot with goat cheese. Bake 15 minutes. Serve.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
200 calories, 9.6 g fat, $1.05

Calculations
1 tablespoon vegetable oil: 124 calories, 14 g fat, $0.09
1 tablespoon butter: 102 calories, 11.5 g fat, $0.07
2 cloves garlic, minced: 4 calories, 0 g fat, $0.05
1 pinch red pepper flakes: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
1 huge bunch Swiss chard (or 2 smaller bunches) - rinsed, stems removed, and cut into 1/2 inch slices: 182 calories, 1.9 g fat, $1.99
1 (15.5 ounce) can pinto beans, rinsed and drained: 361 calories, 3.4 g fat, $0.75
1 small tomato, seeded and chopped: 16 calories, 0.2 g fat, $0.34
Salt and pepper to taste: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice: 5 calories, 0 g fat, $0.16
2 ounces crumbled goat cheese: 207 calories, 16.9 g fat, $1.75
TOTAL: 1001 calories, 47.9 g fat, $5.24
PER SERVING (TOTAL/5): 200 calories, 9.6 g fat, $1.05

Friday, April 17, 2009

Zucchini and Rosemary Soup: In Defense of Food

What do you do when someone in your family loathes a dish, but you adore it? Do you keep making it? Do you have pity and eliminate it from rotation? Do you keep a stash hidden in your toilet tank, to secretly parse out to yourself at random intervals?

What if you were a food blogger? What if you whipped up a soup (er … for example), and half of your crowd despised it like a despot, while the other half praised it like a prophet? Would you post it? Would you bury it in your archives, next to that Potato and Black Bean Pancakes recipe that tasted like the filling of a futon?

Here’s why I ask.

A few days ago, as part of our Eat Your Veggies Experiment, I fed Dustin and Linda each a bowl of Bon Appetit’s Zucchini and Rosemary Soup. They HATED it. Like, if Darth Vader served it to them on the flaming corpse of a dead bunny, they couldn’t have disliked it more.

In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. Neither of them are big zucchini fans, and the texture was a little too bizarre for such particular eaters. Dustin was most wary of the aftertaste, and my sister said it looked “like snot,” which … okay, point taken.

Thing was, I loved the soup. My lunch for the last three days has consisted of: the soup, a banana, and whatever random starch I dig out of my fridge door. And without hyperbolizing in the slightest, it’s made me the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life.

Rachel loved it, too. Even Epicurious readers were cocoa for cuckoo poops about it, lavishing the recipe with a 92% approval rating. That’s better than both Southern Fried Chicken AND Chocolate Layer Cake with Milk Chocolate Frosting. So there you go.

Subsequently, I’m postin’ it. That’s right, punks. This thing is going up on the blog, about six inches below this very sentence. No one can stop me, except maybe a Sith lord and his fiery rabbit.

Of course, if you were to try it, know the following:

1) This was already a waggin-fraggin bargain, but will be much cheaper in two or three months, when zucchini is in season.

2) You could probably cut all the butter to make it even leaner, but it’s sterile and I like the taste. (What movie?)

3) I added croutons, but omitted the scallions and chunked zucchini. You can, too. Remember: cooking has no boundaries except those you impose on yourself. (And those that fire marshals impose upon you. Those are pretty important, too.)

Have a fabulous weekend, folks. Get outside if you can, and make this soup, too. The dislikers will get over it, and you’ll be happier in the end.

Zucchini and Rosemary Soup
Adapted from the Bon Appétit/Epicurious
Serves 8

2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, separated
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, sliced
2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary
6 cups chicken stock or canned low-salt broth
1 russet potato, peeled, sliced
3 medium zucchini, thinly sliced
Salt and pepper to taste

1 zucchini, cut into 1/2-inch cubes (optional)
Croutons (optional)
Chopped green onions (optional)

In a big pot or Dutch oven, heat butter and oil over medium-high heat. When butter melts, add onion. Cook 5 minutes, until a little soft and translucent. Add garlic and rosemary. Stir. Add broth and potato. Jack heat up to high. Once it starts boiling, drop heat to medium-low and cook/simmer 10 minutes. Add the 3 sliced zucchinis. Cook another 15 minutes. (Zucchini should be tender at that point.) Puree, using either a regular blender or a stick blender. (Be super careful with the regular one, working in batches.) Salt and pepper to taste.

OPTIONAL (I didn't do this): "Cook cubed zucchini in saucepan of boiling salted water for 30 seconds. Drain. Rewarm soup over medium heat. Ladle into bowls. Top with zucchini and croutons. Sprinkle with green onions."

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
78 calories, 4 g fat, $0.78

Calculations
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, separated: 204 calories, 23 g fat, $0.18
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil: 66 calories, 7.5 g fat, $0.05
1 large onion, chopped: 63 calories, 0.2 g fat, $0.25
2 garlic cloves, sliced: 9 calories, 0 g fat, $0.10
2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary: 2 calories, 0.2 g fat, $0.18
6 cups chicken stock or canned low-salt broth: 30 calories, 0 g fat, $2.25
1 russet potato, peeled, sliced: 168 calories, 0.2 g fat, $0.45
3 medium zucchini, thinly sliced: 94 calories, 1.2 g fat, $2.72
Salt and pepper to taste: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
TOTAL: 636 calories, 32.3 g fat, $6.20
PER SERVING (TOTAL/8): 78 calories, 4 g fat, $0.78

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Veggie Might: Holy Gumbo! (Gumbo Z'Herbes)

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a regular Thursday feature about all things Vegetarian.

This is a big week for monotheism. Two of the three big guys are having major blowouts at the same time—as they should of course. The Last Supper was a Passover Seder, after all.

Because of this alignment of the theological stars, I was debating between vegetarian matzo ball soup and something Easter related for my post this week. Well. The Heavens decided; and you are spared my goytastic attempt at the Passover classic.

While my broth has been coming out great, my matzo balls are still pretty leaden. If anyone would like to help a sister out, I’m open to tips and suggestions. Instead, I’ve got a Holy Week wonder that will knock your socks off.

Gumbo z’Herbes, or green gumbo, is traditionally prepared on Maundy Thursday to be served on Good Friday, when Catholics refrain from meat. Of course, all the recipes I found call for a hamhock, veal, six kinds of sausage, and “stew meat” to flavor the greens. It’s all about semantics people.

I love this dish for two reasons.

One: reading the ingredients reminds me of my favorite song from Into the Woods. Of “parsley, peppers, cabbages, and celery, asparagus and watercress and fiddleferns and lettuce,” you can use up to six of these veggies in your gumbo z’herbes and still have room for more.

Two: essentially, gumbo z’herbes is just a big ol’ mess of greens served over rice. Now that’s my kind of Easter food. I’m used to eating only the yellow/beige foods (mac and cheese, scalloped potatoes, deviled eggs) at big family meals. The thought of sitting down to a helping of something healthy and delicious sends me reeling.

I culled several online recipes to create my own gumbo z’herbes recipe. Of course, Emeril was among the chosen, but, surprisingly, his recipe does not call for roux. Everything I know about gumbo tells me there must be roux, so I kept looking.

Leah Chase, of Dooky Chase’s in New Orleans, has roux in her recipe (plus like 10 pounds of meat), so I was getting closer. The recipe at Gumbopages, where you can also find an encyclopedia of Cajun/Creole info, has really simple instructions.

Here are some fun facts I picked up:
  • You must use an odd number of greens for good luck, and the more the better.
  • Parsley can be one of the greens and an herb.
  • Roux is a must for gumbo, and it’s pesky. Consult this tutorial from Emeril. It took me four tries to get it right.
  • Filé powder, also called gumbo filé, is used for thickening. Only use it at the end of cooking, and do not let it boil. Things will get stringy and gross otherwise.
  • “Pepper grass” is a wild herb commonly used in gumbo z’herbes. From the photo and subsequent discussion on this blog, I realized I picked and ate pepper grass on the “Wildman” tour in Prospect Park. New Yorkers, go make gumbo!
Gumbo z’herbes, and probably any gumbo, is a labor intensive dish. It’s easily a three to four hour proposition. Here’s a time saving tip: chop the rest of your veggies and create your mise en place after washing the greens and start the boiling.

Roux takes at least 15 minutes of constant stirring (you’ll want the peanut butter colored variation) and that’s if you get it right on the first try. The timing also depends on the quantity, how much heat you apply, and the pan you use.

Once it’s all boiled, assembled, sautéed, and boiled again the whole shack shimmies, I mean simmers for a good hour. And it’s so worth it. The flavors of the greens mingle nicely with the warm spices—allspice, clove, and cayenne. I recently treated myself to tin of smoked paprika from the gourmet market. A couple of teaspoons added just the right note of smokiness.

The filé goes in at the end, either in the pot or at the table. People familiar with the flavor and thickening power of filé may want to add their own, but a first timer (like me) may need a little hand holding.

I started with a half tablespoon. The soupy mixture immediately took on the classic gumbo texture: kind of gooey and gelatinous. Encouraged, I added another half tablespoon. It was perfect. The flavor is unique; I can only describe it by saying, it tastes like gumbo.

Have a holy week and celebrate the people you (really) love with a big pot of Gumbo z’Herbes. It’s not much to look at, but Sweet Lady of the Lowlands, it is good stuff.

Gumbo z’Herbes
adapted
Serves 4–5
6 cups vegetable stock
5 small bunches of leafy greens, about 1–2 cups of each (Use an odd number of any of the following: spinach, collards, mustard greens, turnip greens, dandelion greens, chard, beet tops, carrot tops, lettuce [romaine, red, or green leaf], watercress, parsley, sorrel, arugula) washed, destemmed, and torn
1/2 green cabbage, chopped

3 tbsp flour
2 tbsp nonhydrogenated shortening or canola oil

1/2 large white or yellow onion, diced
1/2 bunch scallions, sliced
6 cloves garlic, minced
1–2 ribs celery, diced
1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
4 sprigs fresh thyme
1 whole clove
1 allspice berry
2 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste
1 tbsp gumbo filé

1) Wash greens thoroughly. Remove stems and tear into pieces. Remove outer leaves of cabbage, cut in half, and chop coarsely. In a large stock pot, bring to a boil vegetable stock and greens. Cover and simmer over medium heat for an hour.

2) While greens are cooking, wash and chop remaining vegetables and herbs.

3) When the greens are done, drain broth and set aside. Allow greens to cool, then chop finely, either by hand or in a food processor.

4) With flour and shortening or oil, make medium-colored roux in a heavy bottomed soup pot. It should be the color of peanut butter.

5) Add onions, scallions, celery, and garlic to the roux and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

6) Add parsley and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

7) Add reserved broth, greens, and remaining herbs and spices to the pot. Cover and simmer for an hour. Stir occasionally.

8) Remove from heat. Let it cool for a minute, then add filé, salt and pepper to taste.

9) Serve over white rice, and sing hallelujah.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
Per serving: 134.8 calories, 5.6g fat, $1.12 (5 servings)

Calculations
6 cups vegetable stock: 120 calories, .6g fat, $1.20
1 small bunch spinach: 14 calories, .1g fat, $.99
1 small bunch collards: 22 calories, .1g fat, $.64
1 small bunch mustard greens: 15 calories, .1g fat, $.40
1 small bunch green leaf lettuce: 10 calories, 0g fat, $.50
1 small bunch watercress: 4 calories, 0g fat, $.50
1/2 green cabbage: 89 calories, .5g fat, $.50
3 tbsp flour: 66 calories, .2g fat, $.03
2 tbsp nonhydrogenated shortening: 220 cal, 26g fat, $.15
1/2 large white or yellow onion: 40 calories, .2g fat, $.50
1/2 bunch scallions: 32 calories, 0g fat, $0.33
6 cloves garlic: 25.2 calories, 0g fat, $.07
1-2 ribs celery: 10 calories, 0g fat, $.05
1 tbsp fresh parsley: 5 calories, 0g fat, $.07
4 sprigs fresh thyme: 2 calories, 0g fat, $.04
1 whole clove: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 allspice berry: negligible calories and fat, $.02
2 tsp smoked paprika: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tsp cayenne pepper: negligible calories and fat, $.02
salt and pepper to taste: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tbsp gumbo filé: negligible calories and fat, $.04
Total: 674.2 calories, 27.8g fat, $5.61
Per serving: 134.8 calories, 5.6g fat, $1.12

Friday, April 3, 2009

Spaghetti with Asparagus, Egg, and Parmesan: a Mutant Freak of Deliciousness

Though I’m cooking more often now, creating my own recipes continues to scare the living daylights out of me. My self-spawned dishes tend to be three-out-of-five star affairs, meaning they’re servable, but won’t necessarily knock your socks off. See, I’m still mastering certain techniques (read: all of them), and find pairing flavors tougher than Advanced Calculus. (Hey, if mathematicians had to eat their results, they’d have never picked up calculators in the first place.)

So, when I invent something that actually works, it’s like … it’s like … hm … how to express this without resorting to hyperbole?

Oh! I have it. It’s like riding a golden unicorn over a rainbow while world peace breaks out in the background. Or U2 playing an acoustic gig in my living room as I’m hand-fed chocolate-covered strawberries by Raoul Bova. Or taking a permanent vacation from my job, but with eternal severance pay and health benefits. (Dare to dream.)

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But it is pretty cool. And today’s recipe, Spaghetti with Asparagus, Egg, and Parmesan, is one of those rare triumphs.

Tuesday night, I was in a spaghetti mood, but had a use-it-or-lose-it pound of asparagus whiling away in the crisper drawer. With no funghi available, Pasta with Asparagus and Mushrooms was out of the question. So was Roasted Asparagus with Poached Egg and Parmesan, since I reallyreallyreally wanted some pasta. But both recipes fused together? That could work.

And did it EVER. It’s my new favorite comfort food. Creamy and cheesy and asparagus-y, I can see myself eating this over and over again until my death in 2097. (Yes, I’m shooting for 120. Believe in the stars!) And? AND? I would say I could eat 14 bowls of the stuff, but a single serving filled me to the brim.

Of course, should you decide to give it a shot:

1) To cut the fat even further, omit ½ tablespoon olive oil and a little parmesan.

2) Don’t throw out the pasta water. Love it. Be liberal with it. It’s vital to everything.

And that’s it, folks. Have a lovely weekend, and experiment if you get the chance. Occasionally, it’s worth it.

Spaghetti with Asparagus, Egg, and Parmesan
Serves 3

8 oz thin spaghetti
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound medium-thin asparagus, rough ends snapped off, cut into 1-inch pieces
Cooking spray
3 eggs
½ tablespoon tap water
Kosher salt and freshly-ground black pepper
2 dashes cayenne pepper
¼ cup grated parmesan

1) Cook pasta ‘til al dente and drain, reserving ¾ cup of cooking water.

2) Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add asparagus and saute for 4 or 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add ¼ cooking water and cook for another 3 or 4 minutes, until asparagus is crisp-tender.

3) In the meantime, spray a small nonstick pan with cooking spray. Crack three eggs into it, and add ½ tablespoon tap water. Cover and cook over low heat for a few minutes, until the top of the yolks cloud, but are still soft and runny. Remove from heat.

4) When the asparagus is done cooking, add drained pasta to the pan, stirring to reheat if necessary. Off heat, add the remaining ½ cup of cooking water, cayenne pepper, and salt and pepper to taste. Stir.

5) Ladle pasta into bowls along with 1 tablespoon water/sauce from bottom of pan (or more, if you like). Place egg on top and sprinkle with about 1-1/2 tablespoons parmesan cheese. Break egg, mix everything together, and enjoy.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
446 calories, 13.4 g fat, $1.24

Calculations
8 oz thin spaghetti: 800 calories, 4 g fat, $0.33
1 tablespoon olive oil: 119 calories, 13.5 g fat, $0.12
1 pound medium-thin asparagus: 91 calories, 0.5 g fat, $1.99
Cooking spray: negligible calories and fat, $0.03
3 eggs: 221 calories, 14.9 g fat, $0.55
½ tablespoon tap water: negligible calories and fat, $0.00
Kosher salt and freshly-ground black pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
2 dashes cayenne pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.01
¼ cup grated parmesan:108 calories, 7.2 g fat, $0.68
TOTAL: 1339 calories, 40.1 g fat, $3.73
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 446 calories, 13.4 g fat, $1.24

Monday, March 23, 2009

Chorizo and Potato Frittata: 'Til We Meat Again

(You guys! My column over at Serious Eats today is on Daniel Boulud’s recipe for Red Cabbage with Honey and Apples. I loathe red cabbage with the white-hot intensity of a thousand angry suns, and still thought this was DELICIOUS. We have enough to feed the entire block until 2022. If you get the chance, check it out.)

One of the trickiest things about healthy cooking is figuring out how to use meat. Lean cuts like chicken breast, pork tenderloin, and flank steak aren’t too terrible of an issue. In general, they can be consumed in greater quantities without causing crazy damage to your diet. On the other hand, while undeniably delicious, overdosing on fattier meats like pork belly and sausage will end your newest bout with Weight Watchers faster than you can say, “I’d like another serving of Bacon Explosion, please.”

That’s why it’s always a pleasant surprise to discover a healthy recipe that features fatty meat in a way you can actually taste it. Like say, my slightly altered version of Jamie Oliver’s Chorizo and Potato Frittata (found via Serious Eats). Chorizo is a Spanish sausage with a distinct, spicy flavor, and it permeates the entire dish without overwhelming it. Even better, since the sausage is cut up into small pieces, you’re guaranteed to get a chunk with almost every bite. Really, it’s like having your cake-izo and eating it, too.

It should be noted, though, that the sausage isn’t the frittata’s only highlight. While the potatoes are cooking, Oliver asks you to prepare an easy shallot/parsley/lemon topping that’s added to the dish at the very end. Having tried it, I have to say - it’s absolutely indispensible, and will probably make appearances on various meals in the future. Yum squared, dude.

As always, there are a few notes, should you attempt the frittata yourself:

1) The potatoes make this thing dang hearty. Thusly, it’s suitable for breakfast, brunch, lunch, linner, dinner, or late night after you’ve had a few brews. Go crazy.

2) To save fat and calories, I substituted 6 egg whites for 4 whole eggs, cut the chorizo by 1-1/2 ounces, and subtracted a potato. I think I lost about 9 grams of fat per serving that way, and it still worked out VERY nicely.

3) Use an oven-safe pan, and be careful with the handle once it’s finished. That thing is HOT, and twice in the last week, I’ve barehanded a fresh-from-the-oven vessel. NOT GOOD.

4) My sister liked this. She only likes: gum, Diet Coke, spaghetti. I consider it a coup.

5) I’m not ashamed to admit: I ate my piece with my hands, as if it was pizza. I highly suggest trying this, but waiting until it cools off a little first. Good times.

Readers – how about you? Any healthy recipes where bacon/sausage/filet mignon is prominently featured? Do tell.

Chorizo and Potato Frittata
Serves 4
Adapted from Jamie Oliver

3 small red potatoes, scrubbed and cut into small chunks
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 large eggs
6 large egg whites
2-1/2 ounces Spanish chorizo sausage, chopped into 1/3-inch pieces
2 sprigs of fresh rosemary, leaves picked
2 small shallots, peeled and very finely sliced
Juice of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil, divided
A bunch of fresh flat-leaf parsley, leaves picked, very roughly chopped

1) Boil potatoes in salted water until tender enough to pierce through with a knife. Drain. Pour back into pot. Let dry out a bunch.

2) Preheat oven to 375°F.

3) In a large ovensafe skillet, heat potato and chorizo over medium-high. Saute 5 to 8 minutes, stirring occasionally. Chorizo should have rendered its fat by the end.

4) While the chorizo and potatoes are cooking, add eggs, salt, and pepper to a bowl. Whisk 'em all together.

5) After that, slice up the shallots. In a small bowl (separate from the eggs), combine shallots, lemon juice, ½ teaspoon of olive oil, and a little salt and pepper. "Pinch shallots with your fingers to dress." Marinate a few minutes.

6) Okay. By now, the chorizo and potato should be done. Put them on a plate. Add the remaining ½ teaspoon of olive oil to the pan. Add rosemary and jack heat up to high. Cook until a little crispy. Add eggs. Quickly add chorizo and potato pushing them around so they're evenly spread out. Put pan in oven. Cook until the eggs are set, a little puffy, and are ever-so-lightly browned on top. Remove from oven and immediately remove frittata from pan.

7) Add parsley to shallot mixture. Sprinkle over frittata. Serve right away.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
215 calories, 10.7 g fat, $0.85

Calculations
3 small red potatoes: 190 calories, 0.4 g fat, $0.47
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.02
2 large eggs: 147 calories, 9.9 g fat, $0.25
6 large egg whites: 103 calories, 0.4 g fat, $0.75
2-1/2 ounces Spanish chorizo sausage: 323 calories, 27.2 g fat, $1.07
2 sprigs of fresh rosemary, leaves picked: 2 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.18
2 small shallots: 41 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.53
Juice of 1 lemon: 13 calories, 0 g fat, FREE (I paid for the zest in last Friday’s recipe)
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil: 39 calories, 4.5 g fat, $0.04
A bunch of fresh flat-leaf parsley: 2 calories, 0 g fat, $0.10
TOTAL: 860 calories, 42.6 g fat, $3.41
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 215 calories, 10.7 g fat, $0.85

Friday, March 20, 2009

Kale and Mushrooms with Polenta: Temptation

Things I was tempted to do for today’s post, but ultimately resisted:

1) Inspired by the most recent episode of 30 Rock, I wanted to put up several pictures of a young Alec Baldwin. Because, really, have you SEEN that guy in his twenties? He made Brad Pitt look like Ernest Borgnine after a chainsaw accident.

2) Comment on this AV Club piece about the music you just can’t listen to anymore, “because of the memories you associate with them.” For me, it’s Jeff Buckley. My friend H turned me on to him back in 1995, a full decade before “Hallelujah” popped up on The O.C. or American Idol. Grace was a perfect album for a perfect time, and now he’s dead and his music isn’t my special secret anymore. Don’t get me wrong - the specialness isn’t totally gone (his voice continues to be a space-and-time-stopper), but it’s diminished a bit. Or maybe I’m just old and cranky.

3) Post a link to Jamie Foxx’s new video, if only because director Ron Howard makes several prominent appearances. I gotta admit, I never thought I’d see Opie rolling with T-Pain and a bottle of Cristal.

4) Discuss my wedgie. It’s epic.

5) Apologize for discussing my wedgie. This is a food blog, for pete’s sake. We have to maintain a modicum of class around here.

6) But seriously, it’s huge.

7) Lament Binghamton’s quick exit from the NCAA tournament. Though I went to a rival SUNY (State University of New York) and was not aware we had sports, it’s nice to see public school kids represent.

8) Write a poem about Kale and Mushrooms with Creamy Polenta, a recipe from Epicurious/Bon Appetit found via Serious Eats. It would go like this:

Flavored by bacon and milk and butter,
and enough lemon to make my tongue flutter,
is a dish so creamy, substantial, and great,
I want to ask it out on a date.

Alas, the dinner is food and not people
or in three years, we’d be found in a steeple
saying our vows and planning a life
together as Kale with Mushrooms and wife.

But anyway back to the task at my hand,
describing this dinner, so pleasant and grand.
No side dishes needed, I swear and it’s true:
This should feed about three, including you.

The price is a pittance, when you take in the taste,
and I promise, there’ll be no barfing or waste.
For when you are asked, “hey hon, what is shakin?”
You can say: “It’s veggies! With corn stuff and bacon!”

~fini~

Anyway, that’s what I was tempted to do with today’s post. But I’m not gonna do any of them. Instead I’m just gonna list the recipe and its picture. (And tell you not to skip out on the lemon zest. It’s vital.)

P.S.














Kale and Mushrooms with Creamy Polenta
Serves 3
Adapted from Nick at Serious Eats who adapted it from Epicurious/Bon Appetit

1/2 pound kale, stemmed and roughly chopped
2 cups 2 % milk
1 3/4 cups water
1 cup polenta
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 slices bacon, chopped
2 ounces mushrooms
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup chicken broth
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped
1/2 tablespoon grated lemon zest (about 2 medium large lemons)
1-1/2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese, grated
Salt and pepper to taste

1) In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat milk, water, polenta, salt, and pepper over medium heat, whisking frequently/almost the whole time. Once it simmers, drop heat to medium-low. Cook 15 or 20 minutes, until it's thickened and polenta-like, stirring occasionally.

2) While this is happening, fill a medium pot with water. Set it on high heat and boil. Once it's boiling, add kale. Cook 5 or 6 minutes, until wilted. Drain. Set aside. (Note: Several people suggested sautéing the kale with the mushrooms, thus skipping the boiling process. I haven’t tried it, but it should work.)

3) In a large skillet, cook bacon over medium-high heat. Cook until crisp, stirring frequently. Take bacon out of pan and set aside on a plate. Add mushrooms to pan. Saute about 6 minutes, until they're pretty much cooked. Add kale, bacon, garlic, and broth to skillet. Boil it for about 5 minutes, so it reduces. Kill the heat. Stir in thyme, lemon zest, and salt and pepper to taste.

4) Go back to the polenta pot. Add butter and parm. Stir. When both are thoroughly incorporated, scoop some polenta into a bowl or on a plate. Add a heap of the mushroom/kale mixture. Serve. Rejoice.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
435 calories, 16.6 g fat, $1.72

Calculations
1/2 pound kale, stemmed and roughly chopped: 114 calories, 1.6 g fat, $0.99
2 cups 2 % milk: 245 calories, 9.8 g fat, $0.49
1 3/4 cups water: negligible calories and fat, FREE
1 cup polenta: 505 calories, 2.3 g fat, $0.99
1/4 teaspoon salt: negligible calories and fat, $0.01
1/2 teaspoon black pepper: negligible calories and fat, $0.01
2 slices bacon, chopped: 122 calories, 9.4 g fat, $0.35
2 ounces mushrooms: 12 calories, 0.2 g fat, $0.33
1 garlic clove, minced: 4 calories, 0 g fat, $0.04
1/4 cup chicken broth: 4 calories, 0 g fat, $0.08
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped: 2 calories, 0 g fat, $0.22
1/2 tablespoon grated lemon zest (about 2 medium large lemons): 1 calorie, 0 g fat, $0.60
1-1/2 tablespoons butter: 151 calories, 16.9 g fat, $0.13
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese, grated: 144 calories, 9.5 g fat, $0.91
Salt and pepper to taste: negligible calories and fat, $0.01
TOTAL: 1304 calories, 49.7 g fat, $5.16
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 435 calories, 16.6 g fat, $1.72

(Alec Baldwin photo courtesy of Doodad Kind of Town.)

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Veggie Might: Curry World Tour ‘09—Pindi Chana

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a regular Thursday feature about all things Vegetarian.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been reading about and experimenting with Indian curries. It’s been an enlightening and delicious endeavor. And naturally, I got a bit in over my head.

I’ve been reading Curry: A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors by Lizzie Collingham, a few Indian cooking blogs, and my new favorite cookbook, World Vegetarian by Madhur Jaffrey

Collingham’s book is a fascinating, in-depth, if somewhat academic, look at the history of India and its cuisine. It even has recipes that accompany every chapter. I’m just a couple chapters in, and I know more about the Mughals and the Hindistanis than I ever thought I could.

What’s interesting is the contrast between the decadence of the rich, meat-heavy dishes of the Muslim Mughals and plain, simple vegetarian food of the Hindistani ascetics. The merger of the two cuisines, as far back as the 5th century, began to give an identity what we know as Indian food, combined with the European influences, shaken for a few hundred years, and poured out into delicious.

Since I planned for a culinary trip around the world, I figured it was time to invest in the Madhur Jaffrey book I’d been drooling over for months and months. We’ll visit World Vegetarian soon; it’s a lovely book with colorful anecdotes for every recipe. I enjoyed experimenting, trying several dishes, mucking up a couple of them, but I still felt like I didn’t know what I was doing.

I needed someone to hold my hand and say, “Leigh, you want to learn about Indian cooking? Start here.”

Someone like Meena at Hooked on Heat. Her Indian 101 and Intro to Indian series is the perfect entry-level cooking guide for the beginning Indian cook. Or Quick Indian Cooking, where Mallika has provided an extensive glossary that clears up a lot of my questions, like what is asafetida? There are also great how-tos at Salius Kitchen.

Here are some of the basics I picked up:
1) As we discussed last time, curry is made with vegetables (and meat if you must) and sauce cooked together and served with rice or bread (naan, roti). Curry should never be made with curry powder. Or ketchup. (I never would have thought of that. I hate ketchup almost as much as bananas.)

2) Curries frequently contain some or all following ingredients, so you might want to stock your pantry: cumin seeds, cumin powder, mustard seeds, coriander powder, garam masala powder, garlic, ginger, and green chilies the size of a pinky finger.

3) The flavors of curry vary by region, and are just too vast to name. I know, I really wanted a list too.

4) You can use just about anything as your curry base, vegetable-wise. I made a beet-mushroom curry from World Vegetarian a couple of weeks ago, and wow! It was something. Day one: awesome. Day two: beety.

All fired up and ready to cook, I started at the beginning with HoH’s Pindi Chana. Oh Maude, it did not disappoint. It’s fiery, sweet, tangy, and delicious. And it was so easy too, perfect for a weeknight meal. This time around I did not try to make the garlic-ginger paste. Instead, I used 4 cloves of garlic and 1 1/2-inch piece of grated ginger.

Even with something unfamiliar, I made a few changes. For one thing, I forgot to soak dried chickpeas overnight and used canned instead. My friend P has already scolded me. He is excited by my interest in his native cuisine, but he made me promise to always use dried beans from now on.

I also used canned tomatoes (which met P’s approval, since tomatoes aren’t in season), and I left out two ingredients that would have required a special trip to find: dried mango powder and dried pomegranate. Hey, what I don’t know won’t hurt me.

A recurring trick among the Indian recipes I’ve tried is to heat the whole spices in oil first thing to release their flavors. The whole house smells wonderful within seconds. When the onions and garlic go in, stand back. You may not be able to control yourself. But do. It’ll be worth the wait.

Pindi Chana (Spicy Chickpea Curry)
Adapted from Hooked on Heat
Serves 4 as main dish, 6 as side dish

2 15-oz cans chickpeas (see the original recipe for dried bean instructions)
1 tbsp canola oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 large can diced tomatoes (use a large, fresh tomato when in season)
2 green chilies, finely chopped
1 tbsp ginger-garlic paste (or 4 cloves garlic, minced and 1 1/2 inch piece ginger, grated)
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp red chili powder
1 tsp coriander powder
1 tsp cumin powder
1 tsp garam masala
salt, to taste
cilantro, chopped for garnish (about 1/4 cup)
water, as needed

1) In a deep pan or wok, heat oil. Add cumin seeds. Cook 'til they begin to pop.

2) Reduce heat to medium-low, and add in onions, green chilies, garlic, and ginger. Cook a few minutes, until veggies are lightly browned.

3) Add salt and spices. Stir. Cook a few more seconds.

4) Add tomatoes and tomato paste. Stir. Cook a few more minutes, until well incorporated.

5) Add chickpeas and 1 cup of water. Drop heat to low. Cook 8 to 10 minutes.

6) Top with cilantro. Serve warm. Naan (bread) and rice make excellent accompaniments.

7) Breathe deep and try not to eat it all at once.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
263 calories, 7g fat, $1.11 (4 servings)

Calculations
2 15-oz cans chickpeas: 700 calories, 14g fat, $1.58
1 tbsp canola oil: 120 calories, 14g fat, $0.08
1 medium onion: 40 calories, .2g fat, $.50
1 large can diced tomatoes: 150 calories, 0g fat, $1.79
2 green chilies: 4 calories, 0g fat, $.16
1 tbsp ginger-garlic paste: 23 calories, 0g fat, $.08
1 tbsp tomato paste: 15 calories, 0g fat, $.10
1 tsp cumin seeds: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1/2 tsp red chili powder: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tsp coriander powder: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tsp cumin powder: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tsp garam masala: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 tsp salt: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1/4 cup cilantro: negligible calories and fat, $.02
Totals: 1052 calories, 28.2g fat, $4.43
Per serving: 263 calories, 7.05g fat, $1.11 (4 servings)

Friday, March 6, 2009

Spinach Rice Casserole: Play With Your Food

Occasionally, I find a dish I mostly like, but doesn’t completely sell me. Inevitably, it'll be moderately tasty, but there are one or two elements that knock it from a solid A to a less-impressive B-minus. And then, the demands of blogging / working (/ showering / sleeping / listening to hours of Heart videos / drooling) prevent me from trying it again. It’s a bummer, but thus is life.

Then, along came Spinach Rice Casserole from Tammy’s Recipes. The first time I made it, I followed the recipe to the letter. And the inaugural bite elicited the following reaction:

“Wow. This exceeds all my expectations. I really like how the fresh spinach plays off the cheddar, while the rice lends it some heft beyond a quiche, making it more suitable for dinner. Also, I think the … FOR THE LOVE OF BEA ARTHUR, HOW MUCH SALT IS IN THIS THING?”

It took a minute, but once the salt and Worcestershire sauce hit the tongue, they overwhelmed the other flavors. Not so much that the casserole was inedible, but enough to make me want a glass of water, stat.

Still, beyond that relatively minor issue, the dish had crazy potential. So, a few nights later, I took another shot, and changed a few things around for health/to my taste. I:
  • substituted two egg whites for one of the eggs
  • swapped 2% cheese in for full-fat cheese
  • switched in brown rice for white rice
  • halved the salt (though you could go even lower)
  • halved the Worcestershire sauce
And? MAN it was good. Those minor tweaks catapulted the casserole from Merely Acceptable to Rotation Worthy. Which lead me to this sweeping, giant, somewhat hastily-considered decision about all recipes, everywhere: if you’re 75% on a meal, play around. Odds are you can get it to at least 90%, which in my book merits an A-minus / moderate college scholarship .

If you decide to go ahead here, a few things to know:

1) In a pinch, I’m pretty sure frozen spinach would work in this, but it wouldn’t be nearly as good. Fresh wilted leaves add just as much texture as flavor, and the frozen stuff, being much mushier, will compromise the bite.

2) Buy a block of cheese and shred it yourself. It’s worth it. Trust me.

3) You’re gonna need a side dish. The casserole is substantial, but needs an addition to make it a full meal. We used bananas, because – why not?

And with that, happy weekend, everybody!

Spinach Rice Casserole
Adapted from Tammy’s Recipes
4 servings

9 or 10 ounces fresh spinach leaves
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons of fresh, minced onion
1 cup cooked brown rice (measurement is after cooking, not before)
1 cup (4 ounces) 2% sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1/3 cup 2% milk
1 egg, beaten
2 egg whites, beaten
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
Cooking spray

1) Preheat oven to 325°F. Spray an 8x8 baking dish with cooking spray.

2) Heat a large pan or nonstick skillet over medium-low heat. Add spinach and water. Cover. Cook a few minutes, until spinach is wilted, stirring occasionally.

3) "In a large mixing bowl, combine all other ingredients." Stir. Add spinach. Stir again. Pour everything into the baking dish.

4) Bake 35-40 minutes, until top looks golden brown and it's not mushy in the middle. You can test this with a knife, fork, or toothpick.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
200 calories, 11.4 g fat, $0.94

Calculations
9 or 10 ounces fresh spinach leaves: 65 calories, 1.1 g fat, $1.99
1 tablespoon water: negligible calories and fat, free
2 tablespoons of fresh, minced onion: 8 calories, 0 g fat, $0.06
1 cup cooked brown rice (measurement is after cooking, not before): 216 calories, 1.8 g fat, $0.11
1 cup (4 ounces) 2% sharp cheddar cheese, shredded: 360 calories, 36 g fat, $1.00
1/3 cup 2% milk: 41 calories, 1.6 g fat, $0.08
1 egg, beaten: 74 calories, 5 g fat, $0.13
2 egg whites, beaten: 34 calories, 0.1 g fat, $0.25
1/2 teaspoon salt: negligible calories and fat, $0.01
1/2 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce: 3 calories, 0 g fat, $0.11
TOTAL: 801 calories, 45.6 g fat, $3.74
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 200 calories, 11.4 g fat, $0.94