ingredient: DORADE

There are some highly talented people working in Aquatic Public Relations. The most famous example might be the transformation of the Patagonion Toothfish

i.e this guy:

to "Chilean Sea Bass." What's in a name? You ask. Well, after it gained its much more user-friendly name, the species became so popular that it's now completely over-fished. Having seen the huge differences a simple name change can make, the P.R reps for Gilt-head Sea Bream got on the case. They decided that henceforth on menus everywhere, this Mediterranean fish would now be called by its much more pleasant French name: Dorade.

Dorade are a relatively small fish, usually ranging from 6 to 9 pounds. They have shiny silver scales and a tender white flesh. The flavor of the fish is meaty and slightly sweet. Though the Italians call them orata and the Portuguese call them dourada and the Greeks call them tsipoúra, there are a few sure-fire ways to cook these fish. The first option is grilling the fish whole, which is no surprise given how Europeans love presentation. You'll often find this fish stuffed with herbs and laid on a platter so a bevy of men can fight over who gets to eat the cheeks and eyes. Another popular method is to throw Dorade in a seafood stew. It holds up well to cooking so it's a staple of Provencal bouillabaisse and zuppa di pesce alla Romana. But my new favorite method involves a whole lot of salt.

Salt-Crusted Dorade Stuffed with Herbs

I've always wanted to make salt-crusted fish. You can't really beat the wow-factor of packing a whole fish in a few pounds of salt, baking it, then cracking open the salt casing like an Arctic explorer uncovering long-lost natural treasures. Or baby penguins.

Luckily one of the benefits of having to pump out new recipes every week for a themed-menu column is that I have the perfect excuse to try out new techniques. So it was about a week ago, with many pounds of salt and some whole Bronzino in hand, that I first attempted salt-crusting. The results were amazing. It was fun, easy, and, most importantly, the fish turned out supremely moist and delicious. Unlike some other recipes I've done once and will never attempt again (let me warn you now: making jam to store for the winter just isn't worth the sterilization process), salt-crusting is now a favorite technique. The salt keeps all the moisture trapped inside the fish, but because the salt is outside of the flesh, there is no salt actually imparted into the flavor.

The best thing about my local fish store is that they're always bringing in new varieties of fish, leading me to discover fishy wonders I didn't know existed (hello, sablefish). When I saw some Dorade in the ice-packed window display, I knew that these pretty silver fish had to come home with me, and that they would end their days roasting in a block of salt. Well, the results was just as delicious as the bronzino. After cracking open the salt and removing the flesh, we had tender, sweet fish fillets scented with rosemary and lemon.

serves 2, easily doubled

ingredients:

one pound Dorade, scales on, insides cleaned
2 sprigs rosemary
1 lemon, half cut into 1/4 inch slices, other half reserved
2 pounds kosher salt
6 egg whites
extra virgin olive oil

directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, whisk together egg whites, salt and 1/4 cup water. Lay half the salt over the parchment paper, creating a rectangle that is just larger than the fish.

Gently stuff fish with rosemary and lemon slices. Lay fish on top of salt bed. Pat the rest of the salt around the fish, enclosing it completely in the salt crust.

Bake the fish until the salt is golden brown and the fish is at an internal temperature of 135 - 140 degrees about 15 minutes.

Take fish out of oven and let stand for 10 minutes. Use a knife to crack open salt crust. Discard. Gently remove the two fish fillets.

Serve each fillet with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon.

ingredient: CANTALOUPE

photo from geekspeakllc via flikr

My family seriously loves cantaloupe. I can't tell you exactly how much poundage we go through every summer, but let's just say that if cantaloupes were cannon balls we could have sunk the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.

What is it about these melons that I prize above all others? Well, though I do love watermelon, I hate dealing with the seeds. And let's be honest, mushy or bland watermelon is all too common. I like honeydew, but sometimes it's too sweet, or too green applely, and something about it reminds me of bad hotel breakfasts. (Yes, if there was a fruit fault-finding contest I would surely win.) Cantaloupe is juicy yet firm. It's floral without being saccharine, refreshing yet sweet. And hey, if diners caught onto the nutritional benefits of cantaloupe in the 50s, I would hope you've taken notice as well.

In fact it's cantaloupe that may have saved the lives of the thousands of chain smoking, cottage cheese and melon- eating, dieting women of yore. Carcinogens in cigarette smoke induce vitamin A deficiency, and just one cup of cantaloupe has one hundred percent of your daily vitamin A. The vitamin A in cantaloupe not only restores your vitamin balance but helps prevent lung cancer and emphysema. Vitamin A also protects your eyes from the muscular degeneration associated with aging- though studies show you're much more likely to reap the benefits from the fruit than from pills. In other words, contacts ain't got nothin' on me.

Spicy Grilled Chicken with Cantaloupe Salsa

*sorry the pictures are so-so. My new iphone has found its first fault.

The only thing I can think of that I dislike about living in New York City is that I don't have a grill. Yes, I have a George Forman- and let's be real, I love that thing- but there is nothing quite like grilling outside in the summer. Luckily my boyfriend feels the same way. So on a recent trip home from Shelter Island, we forced our tired (and tan!) butts to detour to his parents house in Long Island in order to take advantage of their grill. It proved to be a great idea: the moon was full, the night was warm, and there were actually fireflies flitting their way around the lawn.

After a weekend of heavy eating we wanted something light and summery, so we went with grilled chicken and salsa. Before you sigh in boredom, I'll explain that these humble pieces of poultry are rubbed all over in a mixture of paprika, cayenne, cumin, and thyme. By creating a sort of crust, the spices seal in moisture and make the chicken extra moist and flavorful.

And while he manned the grill, I assembled this seriously easy cantaloupe salsa. Ripe cantaloupe is key, but that shouldn't be a problem in the summer. The fruit's sweet, honeyed flavor is brightened by lime juice and given some heat from jalapenos. Red onions add an acidic crunch, and the overall effect is a spicy-sweet, refreshing salsa that paired perfectly with the spice rubbed grilled chicken breasts. And because it comes together in about five minutes, I could hang outside and watch the grilling. One note: we like things spicy. If you're sensitive to spice, cut the rub in half.

serves two

ingredients:

for chicken:

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon cayenne
2 teaspoons dried thyme
1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil

for salsa:

2 cups diced cantaloupe
1/2 cup diced red onion
1 jalapeno, minced
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
4 teaspoons olive oil
juice of 2 limes
salt and pepper to taste

Directions

For Chicken:

In a small bowl, whisk together spices. Rub chicken breasts all over with olive oil, then with spice mixture.

Prepare your barbecue over medium heat. Wipe Grill with nonstick cooking spray or olive oil. Grill chicken breasts until skin is crisp and the meat is juicy and just cooked through, about five minutes per side. Let rest five minutes before serving.

For Salsa:

In a medium bowl, combine cantaloupe, red onion, jalapeno, and cilantro. Toss to blend. Squeeze limes over salsa. Add olive oil and toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

ingredient: LOBSTER

Lobsters are really enjoying their five minutes of fame. I've seen people in New York pay upwards of thirty dollars for a lobster roll. And before everyone jumps on my fellow citizens, I know for a fact it's not just the locals. Yes, lobster tastes good, but really this crustaceon has developed its own brand. Eating a lobster roll signifies you've probably been to Montauk, maybe even Nantucket or Cape Cod. Indulging in lobster rolls means you probably own boat shoes, definitely have a polo, and your sunglasses might have cost more than my dinner. Personally I'm not really into eating something with the same face as the design on my belt, but as long as you appreciate how awesome lobsters are, I'm not really against it, either.

In a way it makes sense that lobsters are the original blue bloods. Literal blue bloods, that is. Their blood contains haemocyanin and copper which turns it a shade of blue, and they've been around since the Cretaceous period. Lobsters can be found in almost every ocean, feasting on a range of mollusks, sea plants, and fish. They are pretty primordial in appearance- with their beady eyes and ten legs and no backbone and big ass claws. But most impressive might be their virility: lobsters get more fertile with age. That's pretty mind boggling when you consider that lobsters can live to be fifty years old. A fifty year old lobster at the peak of his sexual prowess? That's hotter than the East Hampton club he'll be sold at.

John's Lobster Rolls

Despite their recent surge in popularity, I assumed that lobsters always had a certain air of elegance around them. Sure, in the 1800s they joined oysters at the top of the "most under appreciated food" list, but by the 1980s everyone knew how chic lobster was. Right?

Well, apparently not if you're a kid living in Maine in the early eighties, where lobster meat was actually cheaper per pound than ground beef. Apparently if you're this kid, you think that ground beef is for fancy occasions, while lobster is the equivalent of a chicken dinner.

When I first heard this story from my boyfriend (who is the kid in question) I was struck both by how cute and how completely crazy this story was. Ground beef? Really? Well, sucks for me for not having lived in Maine, because this story has been validated by people who were actual adults at the time in question.

Having spent every summer in Cape Cod since birth, I have a lot of opinions on lobster rolls. Luckily for me, John (who will henceforth be known as "I can't believe it's not beef!") makes one mean lobster roll. Even better, he'll do the dirty work of killing the poor blokes and then dismembering their bodies, leaving me to nothing more strenuous than stealing the claws out of the bowl while he's not looking.

Serves 4

ingredients:

4 one pound lobsters (or, if you're gluttonous like us, 4 1.5-pound lobsters so you can make 1.5 rolls per person)
2 tablespoons mayo
1 teaspoon lemon juice
salt and pepper

4 New England style split top rolls
2 tablespoons butter
4 butter lettuce leaves

Note: I never like celery in my lobster roll. Sometimes I like chopped chives, but here the meat was so juicy, so tender and sweet, it didn't need anything at all.

directions:

Fill a a large bowl with ice water. Set aside.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. As quickly as possible, knife the poor lobsters through the head to kill them. Put lobster (my pot fit one lobster at a time) in boiling water and cook until red in color and cooked through but not rubbery. This will take about 4 minutes for a 1 pound lobster.

Transfer lobster to ice bath to stop cooking and continue to boil remaining lobsters.

When lobsters have been cooked and cooled, pick out the meat and discard the shells. Roughly chop the meat and transfer to a large bowl.

Add mayo and lemon juice to bowl. Toss to combine. Season lobster meat with salt and pepper.

I think lobster meat tastes best chilled, so at this point I always like to let my lobster meat rest in the fridge for an hour or more.

When you're ready to serve, melt one tablespoon of butter in a large skillet. Put first bun into pan and toast until golden, flipping over to toast second side. Repeat with next bun. Before toasting third bun, melt second tablespoon of butter.

Open a bun and put down one leaf of butter lettuce. Fill bun with lobster meat. Serve with a cold beer and follow with chocolate dipped soft serve.

ingredient: BARLEY

I'm going to go ahead and guess that most people consume the majority of their barley in the form of beer. Actually, people probably get most of their barley in an even more round-about fashion: barley is a major part of animal feed, so when we're eating meat, we're sort of eating barley too. Really the bottom line is that we need to get some one-one-on, up close and personal time with this delicious grain.

Did you know that barley is the reason we're here today? ("We" being the pinnacle of civilization, obviously.) Barley was the first domesticated grain in the Near East. Domesticated grains meant a reliable food source, which meant more free time to invent s*** and further all sorts of human developments. (Er, somebody go find Elliot Spitzer and tell him that domestication is the key to social advancement. )

Over the years, barley has been used as currency, as a beverage (barley wine, anyone?) and as medicine. The prophet Mohamed prescribed barley to soothe "seven diseases" and in medieval Europe, people drank barley broth to cure fevers. I believe they were on to something because barley is one healthy grain. Among its many benefits, barley has high levels of niacin, which protects against heart disease; fiber, which decreases levels of bad cholesterol and protects against asthma and breast cancer; copper, which eases arthritis; and selenium, which has been shown to significantly reduce your risk of colon cancer.

So why aren't people eating more barley? I think it's gotten unfairly labeled as a "health food" product; one of those things you only eat if your mom forces you to, threatening to hide the Playstation controllers until you finish your meal (or at least this will be my parenting tactic). But I promise: barley is delicious! It's nutty and chewy and plays well with other flavors. If you buy pearled barley, it cooks in 40 minutes or less, and let's be honest- you need that time to brush up on Angry Birds, anyway.

Barley White Bean Salad

with Parsley-Basil Vinaigrette

This past weekend was eerily dead in New York City. I oscillated between enjoying the quiet streets and the sky-rocketed dog to person ratio (I swear it was 1:1 in the West Village) and feeling depressed that I was landlocked when everyone else seemed to be on a beach somewhere, working on their tan.

Of course it was all worth staying around for July 4th itself, when I attended the almost-annual BBQ thrown by my childhood friends. As I've mentioned before, they're all awesome cooks, so we divvied up the menu, and I personally offered to bring dessert and a side. Dessert was a no-brainer (blueberry pie, of course!) but I spent some time deciding on a side dish. It was going to be super hot, so the food should be room temperature to cold, but there were going to be a batch of boyfriends lying around, so a pretty plate of lettuce was not going to cut it.

I decided to make a farro salad, because I simply adore farro and it's chewy and nutty and delicious. Of course I decided to wait until the last minute to buy the star ingredient and ended up face to face with CLOSED signs in all my farro-purveyors windows. (I thought this was the city that never went on vacation?) But then, as I walked desolately up and down the aisles of my still open overpriced understocked supermarket, I came upon a bag of barley. And you know what I realized? I realized that barley is chewy and nutty and delicious, just like farro. So in fact a perfect substitute was on hand (and at one third of the price!)

This salad is simple but wonderful. It's mostly barley, with some creamy white cannellini beans thrown in for texture and flavor contrast. The vinaigrette is a blend of olive oil, parsley, basil, and lemon. It's fresh and citrusy, and also reminiscent of everyone's favorite- pesto.

I'm going to eat this barley salad all summer, making big batches and serving it at room temperature alongside grilled fish or chicken.

Serves 12

ingredients:

2 cups dry pearled barley
4 cups cold water
2 teaspoons salt
2 19-ounce cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups basil, packed
1 large bunch parsley
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

directions:

In a large pot, combine barley, cold water, and 2 teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce the heat. Cook for 40 minutes or until all water is absorbed and barley is tender.

While barley is cooking, combine basil, parsley, lemon zest, and lemon juice in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse until almost smooth. With motor running, add olive oil and pulse until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

In a large bowl, combined cooked barley and cannellini beans. Pour vinaigrette over barley and toss until evenly coated.






*Can be served warm, cold, or at room temperature. Stays well for a few days in the fridge, though lemon flavor will decrease as time goes on.

ingredient: GREEN TEA

Green tea is made from Camellia Sinensis, a tea plant native to China. What makes Green tea "green tea" however, is not the plant it comes from (other varieties of tea come from the same plant), but rather the process of harvesting and processing that the leaves undergo.

In short: tea plants produce a series of leaves and flowers, with the small, new shoots called the "flush" appearing every few weeks. These small, young leaves are typically picked by hand and then dried. Green tea goes through the least amount of oxidation, meaning it's processed more quickly and maintains the most antioxidants. Green tea producers end oxidation by applying heat-- the Japanese use steam while in China the leaves are often dried in hot pans. This process of quick drying is also what imparts the tea's characteristic astringent taste.

We've all heard that there are health benefits to drinking green tea, and I'm here to say that it's true. A combination of caffeine and antioxident polyphenols in green tea means that if you drink enough cups, you'll stimulate fat oxidation in your body, essentially boosting your metabolic rate without actually having to move your butt. Green tea also helps prevent cardiac disease, atherosclerosis, blood clots, tumors, Alzheimer's Disease, and just about every type of cancer.

Luckily, the health benefits of green tea has increased its popularity and availability in the U.S. If plain green tea isn't to your taste, there are many others to try. Jasmine green tea (light and refreshing without a hint of bitterness) and Genmaicha (a Japanese toasted brown rice green tea that's nutty and delicious) are two of my favorites. My most recent tipple of choice is "Organic Precious Eyebrow" a Chinese green tea that tastes like plums.

Green Tea Muffins

After a trip to Japan last summer, I decided that there are few things the U.S. needs to steal from the Japanese.

1. Good quality conveyor belt sushi


2. Tommy Lee Jones-endorsed Iced Coffee

Because I'll only buy my iced coffee from a vending
machine if Tommy says it's OK

3. Pagodas

Our buildings are so square, man

4. Green Tea Flavored Sweets



In Japan, everything from cookies to bagels to soft-serve ice cream (see above) are imbued with green tea. The tangy, earthy flavor adds a delicious, unexpected edge to sweets and I quickly became a fan. Luckily, I brought home a tin of powdered green tea from Japan which is perfect to use in baking.

adapted from allrecipes
Makes 12 muffins

ingredients:
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 tablespoon matcha green tea powder (note: actual tea leaves won't work)
2/3 cup sugar
1 egg
1/3 cup butter, melted
1 cup milk
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners.

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, sugar, and powdered green tea.

In a medium bowl, whisk together egg, melted butter and milk until combined. Add egg mixture to flour mixture and stir until just combined. Stir in walnuts.

Bake muffins until golden on top and a cake tester comes out clean, about 20 minutes.

ingredient: BASIL

I've never met a person who doesn't love basil. If there was a highschool for herbs, Basil would definitely be the most popular student. Yes, Basil would be the nice, sweet girl who always looks great and to whom people seem unable to say no. The prom queen to misunderstood Fenugreek or the average Joe Parsley. "I heard Basil and Pine Nut are going steady. Don't tell Tomato."

The name basil comes from the Greek word βασιλεύς, which means king. The most common basil in the western hemisphere is Sweet Basil, made famous through Italian cuisine, particularly caprese salads and pesto sauce. Sweet Basil has a mellow flavor and large, rounded leaves. Thai or Holy Basil is used Northeast Asian cooking, particularly in Thailand and Taiwan. It has a pronounced liquorish flavor and maintains its flavor more strongly after cooking than sweet basil.

Basil has become so popular in the U.S. that I see it sold in grocery stores year-round. There are two problems with this. The first is that Basil is extremely sensitive to cold weather, making it a summer food in these parts. I know it looks promising, but you are going to be sorely disappointed if you buy basil in the winter. So hold off, and gorge in the summer (i.e now!). The second problem (related to my desire to do the aforementioned gorging) is the price, which is frankly astronomical. I've paid four dollars for what can barely be described as a bunch and was really more like a few sad stalks. (I'm talking to you, Safeway of Palo Alto). The solution? Grow you own.

my basil plant!

This plant cost me 6 dollars (it's actually two pots, at $3 each), when I bought it at the farmers market in Union Square. I could sell this for like twenty bucks at the super market! I think I found a new venture to pay off my student loans. If I don't eat it first.

Basil Pesto and A Very Delicious Sandwich

Like probably every other person on this planet, I love pesto. What I love besides its taste is its versatility. If you have pesto, you have a pasta sauce, you have a crostini, you have a lovely dressing for roasted vegetables and a topping for fish. You also have a pretty stellar condiment for sandwiches.

Like what sandwich? Well, this Pesto-Salmon Sandwich, for instance:



This sandwich has great returns. It's super simple and supremely delicious. First, grill some salmon (wild please). Top that salmon with some basil pesto that you've whizzed up in about two minutes in your food processor. Add a few slices of summer-ripe tomatoes and put them on a chewy french baguette. What you have is sandwich heaven. The bread soaks up the juices from the fish and the olive oil. The basil has a sweetness that matches the barely sweet salmon, and is brought to life with the acidity from the tomatoes.

Ingredients:

For Pesto:

1 Garlic Clove
2 Cups Fresh Basil
1/4 Cup plus 2 TBSP Toasted Pine Nuts
2/3 Cup extra Virgin Olive Oil
1/2 Cup Freshly Grated Parmesan
Salt and pepper to taste

Put garlic clove in the bowl of your food processor. Pulse until minced. Add basil and 1/4 cup pine nuts. Pulse until blended with a coarse, paste-like texture. While the motor is running, add the olive oil until emulsified.

Scoop pesto into a small bowl. Stir in parmesan cheese and remaining pine nuts (I like the texture and look of adding whole nuts to the pesto, but they are optional). Season with salt and pepper.

For Pesto-Salmon Sandwich:
serves 4

1 large french baguette cut into four pieces, or 4 rolls
1 pound salmon
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup pesto
2 medium tomatoes, sliced

Directions :

Heat oil in a large ridged grill pan over medium high heat. Add salmon and grill until just cooked through, about 3 minutes per side (cooking time will vary depending on the thickness of your fish. Count on about 8 minutes total per inch.) Cut cooked fillet into four equal pieces.

Spread one half of each baguette with 1/4 cup pesto. Top with tomato slices and one piece of the salmon. Eat.

(I served it with a delicious olive and tomato salad)

ingredient: ENGLISH CUCUMBERS

English cucumbers are the lazy man's cuke. Because unlike regular cucumbers, this extra long, thin variety doesn't need to be seeded or peeled before using. Do I really care if I shave two minutes off my horiatiki-making time? Let's just say you never know when you'll want an extra minute to ponder why a politician named after a, er, hotdog, wouldn't have foreseen his own demise. And then possibly a second minute to consider again how important names are, and how when naming my child I'm going to do a google search to see how many people with my child's potential name are epic failures or strippers or the like.

See? Two minutes goes fast.

A few facts about English cucumbers. First, English cucumbers don't need to be peeled because they're thinner and they aren't waxed. (How very European of them!) In fact English cucumbers come shrink-wrapped, which helps prevents water loss but also means you don't get the waxy film found on many garden variety cukes. Second, the label "seedless" is a misnomer, because they do indeed have seeds. They share a relationship similar to that of the Japanese eggplant to the Italian variety: their seeds are small and tasteless, not big and bitter, so you don't have to remove them before eating. Their other nickname is "burpless" cucumbers because people find them easier to digest, though honestly I never had a particularly difficult time with regular cucumbers so I can't explain the origins of this one.

Like their more stubby cousins, English cucumbers grow on vines on the ground. They're related to watermelon, zucchini, and pumpkins and have high levels of vitamin C, fiber, and water. Plus they're so long that you only have to grab one when shopping. Another thirty seconds saved. Another chance to wonder if the man at the deli gives me a straw with my drink but I know I'm not going to use it, should I accept it anyway and save it for a later date?

Cucumber Pea Salad with Yogurt Dressing

adapted from Food and Wine

I'm generally a hot food person, as in I like eating all my food above room temperature, even in the summer. There was indeed a time when I thought gazpacho was heresy, and I thought all those people who said, "Oh I'm not hungry, it's too hot out" were merely trying to look good in a bikini. But as I've grown, my tastes have changed, and now I look forward to cooling dishes on hot days.

This salad is a perfect summer dish; good on it's own with a side of crusty bread or even better accompanying some grilled fish. The cucumbers are juicy and crisp, while the peas add a touch of sweetness. The yogurt dressing is light yet creamy, and when combined with the cucumbers the dish gets an almost-tzatziki like essence. Best of all, I've found a use for the copious amount of basil which is growing outside my door, clamoring to touch the fourth floor (I live on the third.) Next up? Pesto...

ingredients:

1 cup plain whole-milk or 2 percent Greek yogurt
1/8 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup flat-leaf parsley leaves
1 cup finely shredded basil leaves
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound frozen baby peas, thawed
2 English cucumbers cut into 1/2 inch pieces

directions:

In a large bowl, whisk together yogurt, lemon juice and olive oil. Stir in cucumbers and peas. Add parsley, basil and toss to coat.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.


Note: I can never get enough lemon. If you find the dressing too citrusy, cut the lemon back to 3 tablespoons or increase the extra virgin olive oil by 3 tablespoons.

ingredient: OREGANO

I seem to be the only person I know who makes use of those plastic containers of oregano that come gratis at NYC pizza places. My dining companions are with me with the spicy red pepper flakes, and sometimes they're even asking me to hand over the pseudo parmesan. But oregano? Here I'm alone.

Oregano has a particular earthy flavor that is not to everyone's taste. I urge those people to buy a fresh container of dried oregano and keep it in their fridge. Those same old-as-dirt shakers at pizza places are misleading (though clearly not enough to deter me) because the herbs inside are usually so dead and dried out that it's like shaking flavored dust onto your pizza. Good quality dried oregano, particularly of the Greek or Mexican varieties, has a piney, slightly minty flavor that pairs perfectly with spicy food. Another good move is to do as the Turks do and accompany dried oregano with grilled meat. And the old classics are worth repeating: oregano is key in Greek salads and adds panache to creamy stewed white beans.

Not convinced that this herb deserves a place beyond the slice? On a per gram fresh weight basis, oregano has 42 times more antioxidants than apples. It's also a great source of fiber and vitamin C.

Greek Stuffed Eggplants

These kind of look like eggplant boats and I love the idea of sailing away in one. I'm joking but I'm also serious, because I love eggplant so much that I would be happy not sad if I found myself Shanghaied in a boat made out of eggplant. Well, until I ate my vessel and drowned.

More to the point, if you've never stuffed vegetables with other vegetables and eaten them, you're missing out. I do a lot of stuffed tomatoes and stuffed red bell peppers , and they're delicious. What's great about eggplant is that just one big purple beauty will feed about two people (if you have something like grilled sausages or shrimp on the side) or, for vegetable-lovers, one eggplant per person makes an incredibly satisfying meal. In short: it's a delicious, cheap dinner for a group.

I particularly enjoy making eggplant this way because the filling includes some of my favorite herbs and spices (oregano, red pepper flakes, cumin, parsley) and anytime that you finish a dish by adding a layer salty, crumbly feta cheese, well, it's hard to go wrong.

serves 8 as a side or 4 as a main

ingredients:
4 medium eggplants
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil plus more for drizzling
1 large or two small onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
3 teaspoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon dried oregano, plus more for sprinkling
1 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
1 1/2 cups canned chopped tomatoes
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1 cup feta, crumbled

directions:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Slice each eggplant in half lengthwise. Score with a knife and drizzle with olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. Bake until center is almost completely cooked, about 30 minutes.

When eggplants have cooled enough to handle, scoop out the flesh and reserve the shells. Roughly chop eggplant meat.

In a large saute pan over medium high heat, heat 3 tablespoons olive oil. Saute onions until turning translucent, about 8 minutes. Add garlic, cumin, hot pepper flakes, 1 tablespoon oregano, and eggplant meat. Cook until eggplant is fully cooked, about 5 minutes. Take off heat. Add tomatoes, parsley, and salt and pepper to taste. (As a note, when you see that "salt and pepper to taste" comes in early in a recipe like this it means, "this is your chance to season the hell out of your filling. There won't be another." So grab that shaker and don't be shy).

Stir eggplant mixture to make sure it's fully combined. Place eggplant shells in a large baking dish. Fill each shell with mixture.



Pour just enough water to cover the bottom of the baking dish and cook for 18 minutes. Sprinkle tops of eggplant with feta cheese and continue to bake until starting to melt, 2 minutes.

Serve eggplants with an extra sprinkle of oregano over the top.

ingredient: POPPY SEEDS

Am I the only one who totally missed what was happening in that scene in the Wizard of Oz where they fall asleep in the field of poppies?

No?

Ok. Good.

Yes children, poppy seeds, those same little black sprinkles which adorn your bagel, come from the opium poppy plant which, true to its name, can be used to produce the drug opium. But while the ancient people who attributed the power of invisibility to eating poppy seeds may have actually been tripping balls, you will not get stoned from eating poppy seeds. Though I'm sure many, many a teenager has tried.

More than any other geographical area (except the Upper West Side of New York City), Eastern Europe loves poppy seeds. They sprinkle them in breads, kneed them into dumplings, and grind them into a paste which is rolled up in strudels and cookies. Poppy seeds are also popular in Turkey and India, where you'll sometimes come across the white version (which tastes the same but looks cooler).

One pound of these little guys can contain over two million seeds. They're expensive to produce and, because of their natural oils, they turn rancid easily. So if you buy poppy seeds, store them in your freezer to extend the life of your seeds, and your money. A last fun fact: if you've ever seen that episode of Seinfeld where Elaine eats a poppy seed muffin then tests positive for drugs and wondered, "Can that really happen?" the answer is yes. So potential candidates for the C.I.A, beware.

Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

For my Serious Entertaining column this week, I made a series of edible party favors. While I've been eating my way through the incredibly decadent fudge and I shipped off the sweet and salty nuts, I've let friends do most of the damage to the lemon poppy seed mini muffins. Why? Because (I'm sorry Ajay) because the truth is that I'm not a huge fan of muffins.

I know it doesn't make any sense. I love bread. I love sweets. Muffins should totally be my thing. And I'll admit that as a kid I freakin' loved those Entenmann's mini-muffins. You know the ones that came like five to a white bag? They were were always so moist! (Yes I know it's probably because they're made out of emulsified plastic or something else I don't want to think about.) My issue with muffins is that they either a) don't have enough flavor or b) are dry and crusty.

Everyone seems to love muffin tops. I don't want to reference Seinfeld twice in one post but, well, you all know that episode with the muffin tops. I didn't get it. "Hey Elaine!" I called to the TV. "You can keep your tops! I'll eat those muffin bottoms. Hey homeless woman! Why aren't you eating those delicious fluffy bottoms? Are you crazy!?" And on.

I like muffin bottoms. If I could I'd scalp the crust right off my muffin and leave nothing but airy center. Anyway, I hope this helps you understand my issue with mini-muffins. Not enough fluff. And thus I decided to make a new batch of the lemon poppy seed muffins, but this time they were normal sized. I do love the flavor of these particular muffins. Bright and citrusy from the lemon, they also get a slight nuttiness (and fun texture) from the poppy seeds.

Makes 12 normal sized muffins

ingredients:

1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice
3/4 cup sour cream
3 tablespoons poppy seeds

directions:

Preheat oven to 400°F. Line 12 muffin cups with liners.

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, lemon zest, and salt.

In a medium bowl, whisk together melted butter, eggs, vanilla, and sour cream until well combined.

Add wet ingredients to flour mixture and stir with a spoon until just combined. Mix in poppy seeds until evenly distributed.

Fill each muffin cup 3/4 of the way full.

Bake until golden brown and a cake tester comes out clean, about 18 minutes. Let muffins cool on wire rack.

ingredient: RAS EL HANOUT

A phrase I don't hear nearly enough is "What looks good?" And I'm not looking for a compliment, either.

It's a phrase that customers should pose to their vendors, their butchers, their fish mongers and their bakers. In places where eating locally and seasonally is still the norm, this phrase is much more common. You depend on the person who is selling you your vegetables or your meat to be an expert in their field. They know what's lookin good, they know what's going to taste the best. So you trust them with your dinner.

Ras el Hanout means something along the lines of "best in the shop" in Arabic. It's a spice blend that is made by the spice vendors in North Africa. They can blend over 50 different ingredients to make a delicious, aromatic mixture of sweet, fiery and savory spices. In fact it's a point of pride for spice vendors in countries like Morocco to sell the best ras el hanout. Meanwhile, I had to tell the man in the vegetable department of my supermarket what a leek was.

You can certainly mix your own blend with ingredients such as cinnamon, ground chilies, turmeric, nutmeg, clove, coriander, cardamon, and cumin. And then you could guard that recipe with your life, never sharing it with a soul but occasionally giving the mix as a gift so that people will come, begging, for your secrets. That would probably be the authentic thing to do. Or you can also just do as I did and buy it at a gourmet market when you see it sitting right between the poppy seeds and the rosemary (N.B.D) and exclaim "weee" with delight while the person next to you hurries away with their boring old nutmeg.

Couscous with Red Peppers, Apricots
and Ras el Hanout

After the aforementioned episode, I couldn't wait to get home and use my ras el hanout. At that same market I had also followed my own advice and bought a ton of what looked good, which happened to be red peppers. Now, it might not be the right season for red peppers, but usually you can find some good looking specimens in the off-season. Unless, as happened this year, deep winter freezes kill most of Mexico's crop, leaving red pepper and tomato fiending Americans paying 3 dollars a pepper for shriveled little things even though we should just give up the ghost and eat more perfectly unharmed Idaho potatos. (Somewhere Alice Waters is gloating.) Anyway, these peppers finally looked all plump and red and beautiful, so I bought 4 and ran home to eat.

In homage to North Africa, I sauteed the peppers with the ras el hanout, some dried apricots, orange zest, and pine-nuts and finished them with a good bunch of parsley. The result was a mix of sweet and savory, with a subtle heat and a bit of freshness. Put over some fluffy couscous, it was "top of the shop."

serves three as a side

ingredients: 3 tablespoons olive oil
4 red peppers, roughly chopped
zest of one orange
10 dried apricots (the good quality, juicy ones), finely chopped
2 tablespoons pine nuts
1 tablespoon ras el hanout
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar (or orange juice if that orange is all you have on hand)
1/3 cup chopped parsley
salt and pepper
1 cup isreali couscous (I had this on hand, regular couscous is more than fine)

directions:

In a medium saucepan, heat 1 1/2 cups water until boiling. Add couscous and turn heat to medium low. Cook, covered, for 10 minutes.

Heat olive oil in a large saute pan over medium high heat. Add the pinenuts and the apricots and saute two minutes. Add the peppers and saute until starting to get tender, about 8 minutes. Add the ras el hanout and sautee for 5 minutes, or until peppers are crisp-tender.



Add the sherry vinegar and saute one minute. Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir in chopped parsley.

Divide couscous among plates and top with peppers.


*photo of spices from wikipedia (to be subbed out when I finally take that trip to Morocco.)

ingredient: PIMENTÓN

I'm one of those people who thinks everything sounds better in another language. So it was no surprise that as I was doing my souvenir shopping in Madrid a few years ago, I was immediately drawn to pimentón. I knew it was paprika. I knew we had it in the States. I worried that I was being a little silly, though clearly that didn't stop me from buying it anyway. But the truth is that I was totally justified in that purchase (maybe less so with the ashtray shaped like a bull) because Spanish paprika is different from other versions.

But let's start with the broadest term: Paprika is a spice made from grinding chili peppers, and as such its flavor can vary widely depending on the type of peppers used. In Spain, you'll find three main versions of pimentón: Pimentón Dulce or Sweet Paprika, Pimentón Agridulce or Medium Hot Paprika and Pimentón Picante or Hot Paprika. Then there is Pimentón de la Vera, which has a distinctly smoky flavor and a D.O.C protection to keep it that way. The smokey taste is a result of the way that freshly harvested peppers are dried slowly over an oak burning fire for several weeks. Pimentón de la Vera is so deliciously spicy, smokey and sweet that there is very little I wouldn't want to dust this over. The Spanish feel the same way: chorizos, paella, stews. If you've never had the crispy fried, spicy deliciousness that is patatas bravas, get yourself a plane ticket A.S.A.P

I believe that Pimentón even helps explain the Spanish Paradox. You know, similarly to the French version, it's the head-scratching situation in which the Spanish people fry everything in tons of oil yet stay slim and sexy. How do they do it? Well a main ingredient in paprika is capsicum. That spicy compound is extremely high in Vitamin C, antioxidents, and can help boost your metabolism. Hooray! I mean, olé!

Carrots with Pimentón

I do so much baking that when it comes time to make dinner, I rarely want to follow a recipe. I've spent all day measuring and pouring to a scientific exactness. I'm hungry and I want to throw some s*** in a pot.

Luckily I love vegetables enough that I could eat them plain, or just sauteed in olive oil. But my other staples are lemon juice (and zest!), parsley, and my spice rack. Green beans with lemon vinaigrette and toasted pine nuts? Yes please. A wilted, steaming pile of spinach, feta, lemon, dill, and a sprinkle of nutmeg? Don't mind if I do. Eggplant sauteed to a creamy/crispy texture with lemon, crushed red pepper, and balsamic reduced to a glaze? Hells yeah. Maybe I'll throw some yogurt on there too. It takes so little to make me happy if there are vegetables involved that I thought my veggie recipes weren't worth sharing.

But then I thought, you know what, this is pretty darn good. And it's fast. And its fresh. And if I could just get myself to write down how much of everything I was throwing in that pot then technically it'd be a recipe just like anything else. So here you go. These carrots are steamed until crisp-tender then tossed with a mixture of lemon juice, lemon zest (for extra citrus zing), bright green parsley, smooth sherry vinegar, rich fruity olive oil, and, of course, spicy smokey pimenton. These carrots have heat: if you're not into spicy then choose a mild Spanish paprika such as Pimentón Dulce.

serves four

ingredients:
1 1lb baby carrots (that's usually one of those little bags)
1/2 cup chopped parsley
juice and zest of one large lemon
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon Pimentón de la Vera or other Spanish paprika
salt and pepper to taste

directions:

Place carrots in a steamer basket over boiling water. Steam until crisp tender (al dente as I like to call them) about 10 minutes.

In a medium bowl, whisk together lemon juice, zest, sherry vinegar, olive oil, pimenton, and parsley. Season with salt and pepper.


Cut carrots into thirds and toss with vinaigrette. Serve warm.

ingredient: καρύδι

Ok, ok, you got me. I've already done a post on walnuts. And honey for that matter. But I couldn't resist sharing this recipe for Karithopita, or Greek Walnut Syrup Cake. It's completely delicious and like all good baking it hits close to home.

When I was growing up, I always looked forward to eating out at Gus's Place, a Greek restaurant in the West Village that was run by some family friends. Gus was always more than just an owner of a restaurant- he was a gregarious host who gave the place heart and warmth in a way that has become sadly hard to find. The restaurant at that time was in a beautiful corner spot on Waverly Place. In the summer months, they'd throw open the entire front wall of glass doors and you could sit, enjoying the food and watching the people happily stroll by. (And if you got there at the right hour, you'd also see the drunk, festive group from the show Tony and Tina's Wedding parade past on the way to the "reception" next door.)

Though it's hard to choose, my favorite dishes at Gus's were the tiny fried fish and the ravani. The tiny fried fish were only available when Gus could procure them- I seem to remember him saying something about ocean tides- which definitely added to the allure. You ate the little fish whole, eyeballs and tailfins and all. They had a salty, slightly oily but freshest ocean taste and a crispy, flaky batter.

Of course my other favorite dish is a dessert. Ravani is a traditional Greek semolina cake that's soaked in syrup. Semolina flour gives the cake a dense texture and slightly toasted, nutty flavor. I loved the way the cake stays firm though it's been drenched in honeyed syrup, each bite containing a hit of sugar that you could feel in your toes.

This cake is not ravani- instead of semolina flour you use ground toasted wanuts. But the type of cake is the same: dense, nutty, each bite deeply satisying. Of course this is also soaked in a honey syrup (NB: I'll eat anything soaked in honey syrup. Baklava. Galaktoboureko. Bougatsa. Figs. Yogurt. Honey. That's right, honey soaked in honey syrup. Bring it on.) Left to soak overnight (or more), this cake is fool-proofly moist. So in the spirit of Gus and all the Theodoros, I give you this recipe.

Karithopita
(Greek Walnut Syrup Cake)

Serves 8
adapted from George Calombaris

ingredients:

for cake:
2 1/4 cups flour
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 stick plus 2 tbsp diced butter
12 ounces milk
2 eggs
9 ounces walnuts, toasted and ground to a coarse meal

for syrup:

2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water
9 ounces honey
juice of one lemon

directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 by 8 inch baking pan.

Put flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon into a food processor. Pulse for five seconds. Add butter and blend until smooth.

Add milk and eggs and pulse until smooth. Add crushed walnuts and pulse for 5 seconds.

Pour batter into prepared baking pan. Bake for 45 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Set cake aside to cool.

Combine all ingredients for syrup in a medium saucepan. Place saucepan over medium high heat. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring until syrup is smooth.

Cut a few diagonal lines across the top of the cake. Pour syrup over cake and let soak, at least 30 minutes and up to over night.