Pan-Seared Scallops and Corn-Bacon Hash

Salt. Pepper. Heat. And a little butter or oil.

Good proteins like a really good filet or pork chop need little else to be awesome.

I’m thinking about a helicopter parenting metaphor when it comes to cooking. What I mean by that is you are not doing your meat (or your kids) any favors by constantly poking and prodding and turning. Instead, it’s better to prep them with the essentials, throw them in a hot pan, and then just keep a watchful eye from a distance and know when to intervene (coming in part from intuition and part from reading the words of experts).

Is this an odd way to think about it? Yes. But that’s what happens when someone studying child development enters the kitchen.

If you think this is a weird way to think about it, just imagine if I reversed the metaphor and told parents they should treat their children like a top quality steak. (Actually, in some crowds, I could see that being effective.)

I might be making the link between kids and cooking because today’s recipe comes from Jenny Rosenstrach’s Dinner: A Love Story, which focuses on making real, doable family dinners. I should note that I have not read anything in her cookbook or her blog that makes reference to cooking her children. Instead, both the book and the blog are filled with recipes, ideas, and inspiration for making dinners to share with the ones you love, whether it be a do-ahead chicken salad for a school night or fancier fare for entertaining adults.

Dinner: A Love Story was one of two blog-based cookbooks I received for Christmas, and the one that I read entirely before New Year’s. Even though Jenny is oriented towards providing support for parents who are trying to have regular dinners with their children, I still feel a connection to her writing. Reading through her book, I get a sense that we have similar philosophies about cooking and eating. Her partnership with her husband, Andy, and their collaborative efforts remind me of my relationship with Nick. I actually first discovered the blog through a Bon Appetit column (shocking, I know). It consisted of a series of text messages between Jenny and Andy discussing what kind of dinner they could conjure up using the random ingredients at home.

I have only cooked one thing from the book so far, but it is a winner.

I remember attempting to cook scallops for Nick early in our relationship. I don’t think it was disastrous, but I remember a lot of anxiety about undercooking the scallops (stemming from a poor decision made by a six-year-old Sarah to steal a raw scallop off a plate being prepped for cooking) as well as overcooking the scallops (stemming from many poor decisions to order scallops in restaurants that did just that). Actually, one time, I was convinced that the fried scallops were actually cylindrically-cut pieces of some type of white fish.

Anyway, I am sure that when I cooked scallops in the past, I turned them constantly.  For a long time, I think I did this with most meats, thinking that was the way to ensure even cooking. Don’t do that. You are not trying to recreate a rotisserie in a skillet. Also, searing works far better in a stainless skillet, rather than nonstick.

I know I said that good protein needs nothing more than salt and pepper. But when you sear scallops (or other proteins) in a pan, it leaves behind these tasty little brown bits (quite possibly my favorite culinary term) that you do not want to lose. So making a simple pan sauce with a little wine and lemon juice, butter, and garlic takes advantage of the brown bits without taking away from the scallops. In this recipe, the pan sauce also gets drizzled into the side dish of corn-bacon hash. Which, as declared by Nick, was the best corn ever.

Pan-Seared Sea Scallops and Corn-Bacon Hash (adapted from Dinner: A Love Story by Jenny Rosenstrach)

Note: I suggest making the Corn-Bacon Hash first and then drizzling the pan sauce over it just before serving. Mostly because I wanted to use the same skillet for both recipes.

Corn-Bacon Hash

1 strip of bacon (I was tempted to do more but one strip really was plenty)

1 minced shallot

4 ears of corn, kernels cut off (Or, if you are lazy, one 12-ounce bag of frozen corn)

5-6 chopped basil leaves

In a large skillet over medium heat, cook bacon until crisp, about 2 minutes. Remove from pan (reserving fat in pan), blot with paper towel, and chop into pieces.  Add shallot to the bacon fat* and stir until soft, about 1 minute. Add corn and cook for 2 minutes. (If using frozen corn, cook longer, until heated through.) Add corn and chopped bacon to a bowl and stir in basil, and season with salt and pepper. Once scallops and pan sauce are prepared, drizzle some of the pan sauce into the corn.

Pan-Seared Sea Scallops

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

20-24 sea scallops**, rinsed and patted dry (this is important for getting a good sear) and seasoned with salt and pepper

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup dry white wine

Juice from 1/2 lemon

In a large skillet on medium-high heat, add 1 tablespoon of butter and olive oil. When the pan is hot but not smoking, add as many scallops as you can without crowding the pan and cook for 1 1/2 to 2 minutes per side. (I used a small spatula to flip them. Make sure you get all the way under the scallop so you don’t lose the brown crust.) Remove scallops and cook the rest. (While cooking the next batch I kept the cooked scallops on a plate tented with foil.)

After all the scallops are seared, lower the heat to medium and melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter. Then add the garlic and cook briefly until fragrant (about 30 seconds). Make sure the garlic does not burn.

Add the wine and lemon juice and turn heat to high, scraping the brown bits off the pan. Let the liquid boil down until it is slightly syrupy, and remove from heat. Drizzle sauce over scallops, reserving some for the corn.

*If you think sauteing shallots in butter or oil smells good, just wait until you saute it in bacon fat.

**I purchased scallops by the pound, and one pound had twelve scallops, so I would guess 20-24 would be about 1 1/2 to 2 pounds.

Culinary Crushes and Ginger & Lentil Soup

A lot of my friendships are based in a common love of food.

When my friend and I had our poster accepted to a research conference in Seattle, the number one priority was finding good places to eat. Actually making the poster? Way down the list.

When another friend called to tell me all of the hot, steamy details about her honeymoon, that meant telling me about a tasting menu served by a world-class chef.  (In turn, I rushed home from celebrating my first wedding anniversary to write her a lengthy email recounting every dish Nick and I ate at Charleston.)

So it’s not surprising that an enthusiasm for food is often a big attraction factor for me.  I have a serious crush on Andrew Knowlton, aka The BA Foodist. And I cannot be the only person who suddenly wanted to have a date night with Samuel L. Jackson after seeing the commercial where he consults Siri for mushroom risotto recipes, right?

My most recent culinary crush is Joy the Baker. She unapologetically celebrates peanut butter and pickle sandwiches and she puts bacon into baked goods. And she makes homemade cat toys. I love her. And so she tops the list of “People I Don’t Know but Kinda Secretly and Very Much Creepily Want as a BFF.”

Her recipe for Orange and Dark Chocolate Buttermilk Scones won me rave reviews after making them as favors for a friend’s baby shower. And the Brown Sugar Bacon Biscuits??  Oh my.  The downside is that I did not photograph either of them, so you’ll just have to go to her blog and look at her photos.  They’re prettier than mine would be anyway.

Fortunately, Joy also offers healthy recipes.  Recipes that are so healthy, they could wash away any hint of regret you have about eating buttery biscuits that are studded with brown sugar-coated bacon. But let’s be honest- there is no regret in eating such biscuits.

I made this Ginger & Lentil Soup a couple months ago, but just rediscovered it via the giant container in my freezer.  It’s delicious and easy, and I follow the recipe exactly, so just go check it out here.  I took pictures of this one.  They’re still not as pretty as Joy’s photos, but I took them, so you should look at them.

Nick and Sarah’s (Almost) Conflict-Free Lasagna

(Or, A Very Belated Christmas Recap, Part 2)

As I’ve mentioned in the past, Nick and I both like to cook, but we don’t cook together. Generally our worldviews on food (foodviews?) are pretty different. Remember the Chicken Maryland argument of 2009?

Sure, sometimes we’ve divvied up a meal and each worked independently on separate dishes. And we have collaborated on pizzas but that usually involves a lot of compromise and more inner turmoil on my part than you would ever imagine. I just go to my happy place and smile and nod while Nick applies the cheese in a way that goes against all my culinary and aesthetic sensibilities. (And to be fair, it turns out great.)

Somehow, however, we can make a great lasagna together. And by together I mean absolute 50/50 effort, putting things into the same pan, and having to coordinate with each other.

We did this for Christmas dinner to take over to my parents. There was a moment when Nick got impatient with my meticulous layering on the spinach, one leaf at a time. But instead of making an issue of it, he just suggested that he work on the spinach and redirected me to preparing the next noodle layer. His impatience did get the best of him later on when he grabbed a spoon from me and dumped out the rest of the sauce that I was carefully pouring out. I resisted throwing a handful of shredded mozzarella at him and simply explained I had been trying to reserve some sauce for another layer, but no problem, we’ll improvise!

So we rode out those momentary glitches. In the end we still liked each other and we produced a beautiful lasagna for dinner.

It was a Christmas miracle.

I was too excited about the lasagna to remember to take pictures until we had devoured the majority of it. For those of you who feel cheated and are terribly disappointed to not see the lasagna in its entirety, this is a different, but similar-looking and equally delicious, Nick and Sarah lasagna:

Back when I started writing this right after Christmas, I had planned on including the recipe. Now… I don’t remember the recipe, since we kinda made it up.  I did not eat a lot of lasagna growing up, but I know a lot of people who are very picky about lasagna. Typically, the criterion for these individuals seems to be whether the lasagna was prepared by their mother, and if it was not, it’s no good.  I’d love to hear what others think makes or breaks a lasagna, but in my limited experience, it seems like if you have decent, fresh ingredients, it’s pretty hard to mess up.  We used Giada’s recipe in Everyday Italian as a guide, if you happen to be looking for a recipe.

Oh, I made an antipasti* platter for Christmas, too.  And since it looked pretty, I had to share it. Best appetizer ever- no cooking and the prep is limited to finding some yummy things at Wegman’s olive bar (which you might remember that I love), cutting up some cheeses and veggies, rolling up some meats, and making it look all fancy.

*Okay, it is antipasti, antipasto, or antipasta? I came across all three when I was looking for ideas. Can someone who is familiar with the Italian language and/or cuisine explain this to me?

Something for Everyone: Chickpea Stew and Much-Anticipated Christmas Card Photos

Final paper submitted: check.

Final exams graded: check.

Final grades submitted: check.

Return to healthy eating: check. Kind of.

It was disturbing that I was pretty certain that I could count on two hands the number of vegetables I had consumed since Thanksgiving. So as soon as the semester was finished, I wanted to get some nutritious meals in my stomach, especially before I started baking and filling myself with sugar through cookie taste-tests (which are clearly necessary). I was also eager to take some time to cook a yummy dinner for Nick, who has been incredibly helpful and supportive (as always) while I was wrapping up the semester.

This recipe from Bon Appetit from Chickpea Stew looked like a good start. Quick and easy, lots of healthy ingredients. I made a couple of changes from the original:

• As usual, organic boneless, skinless chicken thighs were not to be found at the store, so I used one large chicken breast instead. In the first step, where the chicken is browned, I seasoned it with both salt and some smoked paprika.
• I drizzled some olive oil on the bread cubes and toasted them for about 15 minutes while the chicken was cooking.
• Based on reviewers’ suggestions, I substituted four cups of chicken broth for the water. I also stirred in a few generous handfuls of torn kale at this step.

Delicious. There are no photos, but it’s not a particularly pretty dish, so you’re not missing much. But please do try it.

And now the holiday preparations can begin.

All of the gifts have been purchased. All of the cookie baking supplies have been stocked. And, most importantly, our Christmas cards have been sent.

This was the winner:

Yes, I am wearing a tiara. And yes, Nick is wearing bronzer. And white eyeshadow to enhance the, “Oh crap, I left my sunglasses on” look. The facial hair is real. He grew his beard out for a month in preparation. Now that’s dedication.

Some other favorites:

I was disappointed that none of the pictures with the cats made the cut for the card. But I do like this one where they seem to be reaching out to comfort each other.

I would say the response to our card has been about 75% positive, 10% confused, and 15% silent. And now Nick and I are stuck trying to figure out how to top it next year.

Random Moments of Happiness: Day 21 (Thanksgiving Foods)

I have not been doing much cooking lately, especially not cooking that involves trying out new recipes. I blame a lack of time, energy, and motivation. I miss it though. I miss shopping for strange ingredients, chopping up veggies, and experiencing different smells as I’m sauteing a new combination of flavors.  I miss taking pictures and sharing them with you guys.

So having a day on Wednesday to devote to preparing some interesting sides for the next day’s Thanksgiving dinner was pretty exciting.

Even more exciting- going to Wegman’s at 9:30 am on Thanksgiving Eve, prepared for the worst, and finding the parking lot as empty as I have ever seen it.

My sister- and brother-in-law pretty much gave me full artistic freedom when it came to whatever I chose to contribute to dinner this year. I didn’t even give myself the option of looking through three or four years of old Thanksgiving features from Bon Appetit (and yes, I do have them all saved in a binder); I limited myself to the recipes in this year’s issue. There were plenty to choose from and I knew throwing more possibilities out there would just make it that much harder to decide. Do-ahead, transportable items were essential, since they’d be traveling with us across the Bay Bridge the following day.

The winners: Mashed Root Vegetables with Bacon Vinaigrette and Italian Mother-in-Law Dressing

Mashed Root Vegetables with Bacon Vinaigrette. I mean, come on- bacon vinaigrette?? How do you say no to that? I was also excited to follow their suggested blend of parsnips, celery root, and kohlrabi. I’ve only started eating parsnips in the last few years and I’m still warming up to them, and I have never prepared (or eaten, actually) celery root and kohlrabi.

Prepping the kohlrabi and celery root takes a little work.  In the end, they should look like this…

I followed the recipe directly, so just check out the link above. One thing I will suggest. When you are simmering the mustard seeds in the cider vinegar, resist the urge to lean over the pot to sniff the aroma. Ouch.

Italian Mother-in-Law Dressing. This was another one that had ingredients I just could not resist. Swiss chard, golden raisins, olives… with scents of oregano and rosemary. It’s also supposed to have pine nuts, but I skipped those due to nut allergies in the family. I can’t imagine that the addition of pine nuts would do anything but make this more delicious than it already is.

My suggestion for this recipe- when you purchase delicious bread, be sure to keep it out of reach from little cats. Good thing I bought two loaves….

BREAD?!!

A full day of chopping, simmering, and sauteing…. by the evening, my feet and back were achy but I was satisfied that my culinary mojo was still intact.

The Oceanfront Taco Party

Before I begin, I would like to note that, after typing the above title, I have decided if I ever find myself with some prime commercial real estate on the coast and the motivation to open a restaurant, I know what it will be called.

Anyway…. if you have been reading my blog for awhile, you probably know the following things about me:

1. I like looking at recipes.
2. I’m a bit of a neurotic overachiever.
3. I love tacos.

Perhaps you wouldn’t necessarily come to the third conclusion, but if you read back through the past year, it should become pretty evident.  I’ve talked about tacos filled with ceviche and tacos filled with black beans.  I mean, we even had a Mexican-themed wedding menu.

What is it that I love about tacos?  Well, beyond the inclusion of some of my favorite flavors (e.g., lime and cilantro), vibrant colors, and the fact that they can range from respectfully light and nutritious to downright decadent, tacos usually come with a bunch of accompaniments, which gives me an opportunity to use all of the cute little serving dishes I’ve accumulated.

What’s also lovely about tacos is that they can be a pretty basic preparation with one filling and a couple standard condiments. Or, you can go completely crazy and prepare a ton of things that taste yummy in a tortilla, and let everyone create their own special taco.  And, if you refer back to item #2 above, you can guess which direction I’d lean towards.

Enter the article devoted to tacos in the June issue of Bon Appetit.

If there is one thing I love more than recipes, it’s menus of recipes.  Sure, there are times that I like to cover the couch (and myself) with ten cookbooks and make Excel sheets for menu planning.  But sometimes, it’s nice to have someone else do that work for you.  Bon Appetit has done that here: five taco fillings, five condiments, and a recipe for homemade tortillas.  I’m disappointed that they did not include a dessert, though.  If the BA writers believe that after stuffing your stomach with tacos, you wouldn’t want dessert, they clearly have not met my family.

As we were planning our family beach trip, it occurred to me that a stay-at-home taco night would be a nice break among a week of dining out and consuming a ton of crabmeat and Dumser’s ice cream (not together).

In a perfect world, I would have made this entire menu (homemade tortillas included) and a dessert.  But then I realized a) I was only cooking for six people, b) I was trying to save us money by eating in, and c) I was not going to be happy if I spent a perfectly good beach day in the kitchen.

So in the end, I decided on this menu:

Fillings:

Cumin and Ancho Chicken

Rajas Poblanas

Condiments:

Taqueria Guacamole

Pico de Gallo

Extras:

Quick Pickled Onions

Shredded purple cabbage

Sour cream

Cheese

Cilantro

And that was plenty of food for six people.  I think we each had somewhere between 2 and 5 tacos, and we had a good amount of chicken and poblanos leftover.

For the most part I followed the recipes directly, but I’ll share a couple changes/notes.

Chicken- I forgot to look for ancho chile powder at the store, but I happened to have some of this Carne Asada seasoning hanging around. I think my brother-in-law asked us to purchase it last year for the wedding food. Since it had chile powder in it, I figured it would be an acceptable substitute.  It also had salt, though, so I did not add extra kosher salt as the recipe called for.

Rajas Poblanas- Most of us loved them but they were surprisingly hot.  I don’t think of poblanos being that hot, but this was intense. I know a lot of pepper varieties can have quite a range in terms of heat, so maybe these were just unusually hot poblanos. Delicious, though.

Guacamole- I didn’t add water to it, just smashed the avocados a bit more.  I typically like chunky guacamole, but I can appreciate that the smoother variety stays put in a taco a little better.

I swear, these were the most attractive and tastiest avocados I’ve ever had.

Pico de Gallo- Pretty basic, straightforward recipe, but really good. I skipped the jalapenos, which was probably a good thing, given how the poblanos turned out!  Maybe a dear reader can explain to me the rationale behind submerging the onions in ice water and immediately draining them?  I assumed it was just to tone down the onions, but a quick rinse seemed just as sufficient.

Quick Pickled Onions- These disappeared quickly! Even my husband who usually avoids red onions ate them. This was the one thing I made in advance (a couple days) and stored in a jar, refrigerated.

One more thing. Perhaps it was the seasoning I used or my cooking technique on an unfamiliar stove but the chicken produced a ton of smoke on the skillet. (Oh yes, by the way, I took my cast iron skillet with me to the beach.)  I was worried I had destroyed the chicken, since it was pretty much black on the outside.  But it was perfectly cooked and the flavor was awesome.

Since the smoke drove my poor family out onto the balcony of the condo we were renting, it’s a good thing the food turned out well. Of course, even getting smoked out of the condo had a silver lining: we carried the dining room table outside (it was a big balcony) and enjoyed a better view than what is offered at the nicest restaurants in Ocean City.  Let me tell you- tacos taste better when you’re watching a sunset and hearing waves crash.

Cherry, Chocolate, and Almond Ricotta Parfait and Some Disappointing Instagrams

I think I need to start eating dinner (and dessert) earlier in the evening.  Sure, the mysterious collective “they” say it’s healthier to not eat large meals past the early evening hours.  But my rationale has nothing to do with my waistline.  If I follow through with eating earlier, the only reason I’ll be doing it is for the lighting.

You see, I am not a professional blogger, nor am I a professional photographer.  It’s not like I have special lights for food photography, or even a particularly fancy camera.  And when I’m feeling really lazy, or have a last moment realization that what I’m about to eat might be blog-worthy, I’ve been documenting it via camera phone.

The problem with this is that it means there are times that I hesitate to post recipes because I don’t have photographs that do them justice.  And a lot of the time this happens because we’re eating dinner at 9pm and there’s no beautiful natural sunlight to cast a halo around the heavenly dessert I’m about to eat or to bring out an heirloom tomato’s brilliant colors that seem to disappear the second I turn a ceiling light on.

And what I end up with is a blurry photograph of a parfait topped with what look more like kalamata olives than fresh cherries.  Even the coolest Instagram filter can only do so much.

Sigh.

So yeah… this isn’t the prettiest or most photogenic dessert.  But it was really, really tasty.  Especially considering how easy it is.

I’m a fan of cherries and almonds together, especially when they are joined with chocolate, as evidenced by the Chocolate, Cherry, & Almond Oatmeal Cookies I made last summer.  But here’s a way to enjoy a similar combination without having to turn on the oven.

This is inspired by a Martha Stewart recipe for Sweet Ricotta with Chocolate which I made for a book club gathering last month.  It was served with berries and cinnamon-sugar pita chips.  And it only takes as much time as it takes to chop up some chocolate and stir the ingredients together.  Great thing to throw together for a gathering- easy to make ahead, transport, and since you can serve it with fruit, it’s a good option if you have gluten-free friends.

But when I finally got around to making a belated Mother’s Day dinner the other night for my mom, I wanted to do something a little fancier.  And thus, this ricotta parfait was born.

I’ve tried this once with frozen cherry and once with fresh, and I have to say, I liked the consistency of the frozen cherries better.  But maybe if you halved fresh cherries and tossed them with just a little sugar to draw out some of the juices, that would work too.

In terms of portions/servings, this recipe definitely makes enough for two parfaits plus a healthy amount of leftover ricotta to be enjoyed on its own. But you could probably get 3 or 4 parfaits out of this if you wanted to.

Cherry, Chocolate, and Almond Ricotta Parfait

One 15-16 ounce container of part skim ricotta cheese

1/8 cup sugar

1/2 tsp almond extract (or more, to taste)

1 to 1 1/2 ounce coarsely chopped bittersweet chocolate (I use two or three squares of a 4-ounce Ghirardelli bittersweet 60% cacao baking bar)

About 20 to 30 pitted cherries, fresh or frozen, defrosted (I think I had about 10-15 cherries per parfait)

Slivered almonds (I’d say I split about a 1/4 cup between two parfaits but this could be adjusted based on personal preference)

Drain the ricotta in a fine-mesh sieve for about 10-20 minutes, to let some of the liquid drain out.  Transfer ricotta to a bowl and stir in sugar, almond extract, and chopped chocolate until well blended.

In bowls, cups, or glasses of your choice, alternate layers of the ricotta mixture, cherries, and almonds.  My mom had wine glasses with straight sides, which worked well and looked way prettier than our clunky recycled glass tumblers.  But it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?  And when the insides are basically almond-spiked cannoli filling with cherries and taste like a lighter version of cherry cheesecake, how can you go wrong?  Oh, and I’m sorry, there are no precise measures for this part of assembly.  Embrace this opportunity to create your very own, personal ideal ratio of cherries to ricotta to almonds.

Roasted Chicken and Cherry Tomatoes with Herbs

I think I should apologize.  I’ve been terribly selfish.  You see, I have now made this recipe twice and have yet to share it with you.  And it is a strong contender for my favorite new summer recipe.

Take some of my kitchen’s usual suspects- tomatoes, basil, shallots, and chicken.  Throw into the mix some strangers- Worcestershire sauce, herbes de Provence (which I can hear in my head with a French accent but please don’t ask me to say it out loud), and tarragon.  The end result? How can I explain this…?

Have you ever found yourself in a completely new situation with someone you know very well, and suddenly experience a different side of that person?  (Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s not…) That’s what this recipe reminded me of.  It’s like if you mix Mom + martini, and the outcome is a Mom that is oddly familiar, yet oddly unfamiliar. (Not my mom, of course.)  Just when I thought I’d pushed the tomatoes and basil thing to the limit, they surprise me with a dimension I never knew they had.

Oh, also- even if you choose not to make this whole recipe (I don’t know why you wouldn’t, though), I highly urge you to try preparing chicken breasts this way.  Somehow it creates a crispy skin on boneless, skinless chicken breasts that are incredibly juicy and moist.  I officially declared that I am never going to cook chicken breasts a different way. Ever again.

This is almost exactly the recipe for Chicken with Herb-Roasted Tomatoes and Pan Sauce from the August 2012 issue of Bon Appetit, so I’m not going to repeat the recipe here.  But I will tell you about few modifications I made.  First, while you could probably get this on the table much faster by simultaneously cooking the tomatoes and chicken in separate overproof skillets, I really didn’t want to contend with two cast-iron skillets- either while cooking or while cleaning up.  So I cooked the tomatoes first and then let them hang out in a bowl while I cooked the chicken.

Second alteration… the original recipe calls for parsley, but I used basil instead.  We’re just more of basil people, I suppose. And finally, I might have swirled one or two tablespoons of butter into the pan sauce at the very end.  It would be delicious without butter, but I’m pretty sure the butter isn’t going to take away from the recipe. And since my tomatoes didn’t seem to yield quite as much juice as Bon Appetit’s picture would suggest, I felt like I needed something to make it a little saucier.

It’s One Hundred Degrees Outside- Why Not Bake a Pie?

I never thought something like pie would lead people to question my sanity.  But apparently declaring via Facebook that you are going to bake a pie on a day it’s supposed to exceed 100 degrees will do exactly that.

I honestly hadn’t given the weather much thought.  I mean, it’s not like I’d be cooking the pie outside.  And with two dinky window air conditioning units and a west-facing kitchen that does not seem to benefit from either AC unit, heating up the oven didn’t seem like it would do much damage.  Or maybe this is a no pain, no gain kind of situation: if you’re not willing to sweat your [insert your choice of anatomy here] off, you’ll probably miss out on a pretty delicious pie. 

And to those of you who questioned my idea of an opportune pie-baking day, all I have to say to you is this (with love): You’re lucky there are crazy people like me who will hang out in the kitchen instead of the pool, because if it wasn’t for us, your summers would be sadly devoid of baked goods.

That being said, I might have backed out if it wasn’t for the giant container of sour cherries from the farmers’ market sitting in my fridge that needed to be used.  I considered pitting and freezing them for a later date, but these intensely red orbs were begging to be tossed with some sugar and tucked into a buttery crust.

Let me tell you, these cherries, and the pie filling they turned into, were so good.  They truly did deserve the butteriest, flakiest, homemade crust.  And I failed them there.  You see, while you’re pitting five cups of cherries, you have lots of time to think.  And to let those anti-pie naysayers on Facebook creep into your thoughts.  Which results in a conversation between you, yourself, and your most neurotic inner-self:

Lazy Sarah: Eh, maybe I should just buy refrigerated pie dough and get on with my day.

Overachiever Sarah: Are you crazy? You can’t half-ass a pie crust when you’re working with fresh cherries!

Lazy Sarah: But if the filling is that good, who’s gonna notice the Pillsbury crust?

Overachiever Sarah: Maybe they won’t notice, but deep down in your heart, you will know this could have been a better pie.

Third Sarah Who Just Wants to Complicate Matters: Hey, did you see that recipe for Sour Cherry Turnovers?

Lazy Sarah: Oh, that could be good.  I could just buy frozen puff pastry.

Overachiever Sarah: OR you could make cream cheese pastry dough from scratch…

Pragmatic Sarah: Well, we just wasted thirty minutes. We said we wanted to make a pie, so we’re making a pie.  And Overachiever Sarah, do you really want to be handling buttery dough in this heat?  Save your energy for the fancy lattice top.

Maybe people should be questioning my sanity.

If you think that’s bad, you should hear the argument I had with myself about buying Pillsbury versus store-brand dough.  But I won’t subject you to that.  In the end, Pillsbury won.  And it was… fine.  But I have to admit, later when I was enjoying some pie and vanilla ice cream, I was wondering how much more awesome it would be with homemade pie crust.

Next time.

I’m not going to post the whole recipe here, as I followed it exactly (other than slacking on the pie crust).  You can find the original recipe here: Sour Cherry Pie with Lattice Crust.   It’s actually the same recipe I referenced for Nick’s Birthday Pie, when I actually made the crust from scratch, but failed to find cherries.

Overachiever Sarah was clearly not present at the time of pie cutting.

Random fact: This pie holds a special place in my heart as it was the cover recipe for the very first issue of Bon Appetit I ever received.  How do I remember that?  Probably because the cover is actually framed and on the wall in our kitchen.

Spinach, Basil, and Plum Salad

Do you remember when I told you about the time Nick and I had an argument about stuffing chicken breasts with bananas and covering them in bacon, after tucking them into a bed of corn and white beans?  I was skeptical.  But it turned out to be pretty awesome.  Since then I’ve been more open to flavor combinations that seem a little unusual.

And I can honestly say that I never would have considered pairing spinach with basil or plums, let alone combining all three together.  But it kinda made sense to me: I’ve had spinach salads with strawberries and I love strawberries and basil together (especially with some balsamic vinegar). And plums are kind of similar to strawberries… right?

Perhaps that logic isn’t perfect, but that’s okay. Because this salad is good, even if it defies logic. The citrus-y dressing is super-light but incredibly flavorful. I might consider upping the plum quantity in the future- I had to cut the slices into small pieces in order to get some plum with each bite of spinach and basil. So, reflect on your personal preferences regarding greens-to-fruit ratios, and proceed accordingly.

The original recipe was supposed to yield 8 servings. I halved the recipe (and kind of skimped on the spinach) so it made a nice amount to split between two salad bowls- more than a first course salad, but not enough to be a complete dinner.  (We supplemented with a modest amount of brown rice and sautéed mushrooms.)

Spinach, Basil, and Plum Salad (adapted from Food & Wine; 2-4 servings)

1 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp lemon juice

1 tbsp orange juice

½ tbsp balsamic vinegar

½ tsp grated lime zest

½ tsp grated orange zest

Coarse sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

5 ounces baby spinach

1 cup fresh basil leaves, torn

1 red or black plum, pitted and sliced

Whisk together olive oil, lemon juice, orange juice, balsamic vinegar, lime zest, and orange zest.  Season lightly with salt and pepper.

In a large bowl, combine spinach, basil, and plums. Add dressing and toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper.

(Don’t you love recipes that can be completed in five sentences?)