Zucchini, Take One

The oppressive heat of a Washington summer arrived early this year. The District has been a sticky, sweaty, humid, hot mess on and off since May. The only added bonus of all this early heat and humidity is that it’s pushing a lot of my favorite summer crops onto an earlier timetable. And apparently into a supersized realm.

1660 Hobart got its first monstrous zucchini of the season from our fabulous CSA the week before I headed out on vacation in Costa Rica (more on that at a later date). It rivaled some of the late summer fruit from last year, longer than my forearm and almost twice as wide. Big honking zucchini always spell zucchini bread for me. It’s delicious, and freezes well. And knocks out a large zucchini that might be past it’s flavor prime. My favorite recipe is an Epicurious standby for spiced zucchini bread, lots of cinnamon and allspice and tweaked to add chocolate chips. Delicious. The loaves that came from last year’s steroidal zucchini lasted us well into the epic blizzard last winter. And made a lovely breakfast pre-sledding if I do say so myself.

Under a time crunch from my impending vacation departure and AK's bday at all you can eat Korean BBQ (clearly not to be missed) I chose to bake my first batch of zucchini bread on an unbearably hot night. Ugh. But had to be done. The heat addled my brain however and one whole batch of bread made it into the oven missing one crucial ingredient (oil) and with significantly less than was called for of another (sugar). There’s a reason Liza doesn’t bake very often people, being easily distracted is a hard problem to fix in finicky baking recipes.

On JB’s suggestion I decided to call it an experiment since inadvertently I’d made a healthier version. The final result needs some significant tweaks to improve the texture, but all in all the verdict was it wasn’t half bad. Worth playing with if the zucchini keep rolling in. The second batch was spot on: dense, gooey, chocolate-y zucchini goodness. And with a truly frightening amount of vegetable oil in it, anything but healthy.

Six loaves later there was still a massive quantity of shredded zucchini so JB and I had a zucchini pancake showdown the next night. We tried two competing recipes: one with mint and feta, the other with curry. Both were super easy and delicious, although it was agreed that some texture issues needed to be ironed out. In an effort to retain the health benefits of the zucchini we tried to minimize the oil used which meant the crispness they would’ve had from being deep fried wasn’t there. But the flavor was. A fair trade off in my mind. If we keep getting zucchini the size of baseball bats we’ll need some healthier options to dispose of the bounty-even I can't eat that much zucchini bread.

Curried Zucchini Pancakes
1 large zucchini, shredded with a grater or food processor
1 sm. Onion, shredded with a grater or food processor
¼ C egg white
¼ C cottage cheese
¼ C matzoh meal or bread crumbs (more if the mixture seems impossibly wet)
1t curry powder (choose your favorite)
Salt and pepper to taste
Mix all the ingredients together and use a quarter cup measure to make the pancakes. Cook until brown on both sides, pushing down on the pancakes to flatten them. Benefits greatly from the addition of Greek yogurt to balance out the curry. (A yogurt sauce of some kind with some cool mint or cilantro, maybe tzatziki style might also work here.) Also the addition of shredded carrots might give it a little more flavor depth.

Spring Has Sprung

I’m not a very patient person. It’s what makes me infinitely more suited to the farmers market than the garden. I’m working on it, but it’s admittedly harder to get inspired by something that won’t come to fruition, literally, for months.

That being said I think I’ve achieved a good balance this year. Saturday was the second farmer’s market, I stocked up on enough asparagus to make a super easy vibrant green soup to chase away Sunday’s blustery early spring feel and more rhubarb and strawberries to start stockpiling batches of my new favorite compote. (thanks Shea).

I also managed to spend upwards of 30 dollars on seedlings for our much improved communal garden, despite exhibiting an unusual level of self control buying herbs to plant. Managed to contain myself to just buying lavender, lemon balm, spearmint, tarragon, African blue basil and thyme to join the thriving rosemary and parsley in the herb bed.

I think the herbs are the best way to combat my impatience with gardening. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for tomatoes. I love tomatoes. But after last year’s blight plague on the east coast stunted our success I don’t know if I can take the heartbreak again. I needed a solid plan b. Or multiples.

That’s why I love our farmers market and the proximity of DC to farm country. This year 1660 also joined a CSA that involves visiting a farm once a week. (As a Vermonter who's dwelled in cities for the last decade I find this part especially exciting.) The farm share we have includes pick your own opportunities on top of a weekly share. Plus the farm does some really neat work to keep their program accessible for those with no disposable income. I’m sure I’ll wax on about the CSA quite a bit this summer. Our first pick up is next weekend, and I’ll miss it due to a family obligation but I can’t wait to see what we get.

I think the balance of surprises from the CSA and what comes out of the yard, with the support of the far more dependable offerings from the farmers market should make for a delicious summer. Asparagus soup recipe below--it's kept me a happy eater all week. Keep in mind I don’t really measure when I cook…. Consider all these numbers in the “ish” range.

Herbed Asparagus Soup

(heavily improvised and adapted from Eating Well to match existing refrigerator contents)

NOTE: this makes a large quantity of soup. I appear to have inherited a family gene that makes it impossible for me to cook for less than an army. The skill serves me well on Hobart, but obviously adjust measurements according to quantity and taste.

2 medium leeks or onion, chopped

2-4 cloves garlic, minced

2lbs asparagus (trimmed and cut into inch long pieces)

1 and 1/3 cups green peas (frozen or fresh)

4 cups chicken broth

4 small to medium sized potatoes (peeled and diced)

4-5 T finely chopped herbs: dill, parsley, chives (any combo you like, i went heavy on the dill).

½ C crème fraiche

S&P to taste

T or 2 of lemon juice

Saute leeks/onion in olive oil until tender but not browned. Add garlic and sauté, stirring, until fragrant 1 minute or so. Add chicken broth and potatoes, simmer until potatoes are tender. Add asparagus and peas and cook until just tender but still bright green. Remove from heat, stir in herbs, salt and pepper to taste. Puree soup (I used an immersion blender which if you don’t own you really should. Fantastic kitchen toy.) Add crème fraiche and incorporate well using immersion blender. Bring soup back up to temperature. Just before serving add lemon. Top with herbs and Greek yogurt or more crème fraiche if you like.

Loads of Lemons

I'm having a citrus moment. Ok, it might border more on an obsessive compulsion these days. It started with my discovery that these Meyer lemons I'd been reading about for years that all the lucky food types in warmer climes waxed on about were available for a very reasonable price in the P Street Whole Foods.

I've come late to the Meyer lemon party, but for anyone who hasn't seen them they are both delicious and truly lovely looking. They're smaller than a regular lemon and smoother and they glow with the most intense yellow lemon-ness. They also smell and taste divine-like a cross between a lemon and a clementine or tangerine, lemon but sweet enough to eat alone. You get the picture.

I bought them by the dozen for as long as I could find them. Then friends started buying them for me and delivering them to me. They're irresistible.

I made good use of the bounty of Meyer lemons that came my way. In salad dressing,in intensely lemony shortbread, as a marinade with oranges and parsley for fantastic grilled chicken. I froze juice, I candied lemon peels. I even made some preserved lemons despite never having cooked with them before. I had Meyer lemon fever, which gave way to a very citrusy winter/spring in general when the Meyer lemons were no more.

When forced to move on to more pedestrian citrus the results were still pretty great. The roast chicken we served for a part of passover seder this year was heavenly, basted in a combo of lemon and orange juice. And you've already heard about the grapefruit marmalade which we just ran out of sadly.

It's nice to have something bright and fresh to tide you over these last few weeks before growing season really hits. Washington's season starts earlier than the brief summers in VT, but not early enough for me. I'm positively itching for the neighborhood (producer only) farmers' market to start and our CSA kicks in at the end of the month. The citrus filled the hole admirably, but despite my inclination to buy local whenever possible I'm not ready to give up on lemony recipes. The pasta with tuna, capers, basil and lemon zest that I made for a recent barbecue served as a good reminder of lemon uses in summer. Mmmmmm.

Bacon Cake

Appropriately, albeit accidentally, we observed National Pig Day early this year. (Yes there is a National Pig Day and it happens to be today.) Bacon cake actually had another name. It's something along the lines of bocconcini stuffed Mediterranean bacon pull apart bread. But it should be called Bacon Cake.

It is every bit as decadent as it sounds. Herb bread rolled and sealed around tiny balls of fresh mozzarella, rolled in butter, bacon fat and parmesan cheese and baked in layers, in a bundt pan, with a mixture of bacon, green onions, olives and sundried tomatoes sprinkled between layers.

"Bacon cake" sounds appropriately decadent and just a little bit dirty. As it should. This is a naughty cake. You feel just a little bit dirty eating it. This is a cake you pretend not to like, because you shouldn't. This is a cake that looks sweet but is in reality salty, tart and indulgent. It's a surprise, this cake. It's nuanced, with just the right dash of naughtiness.

This is a cake you should make. But a word of caution. It is not to be trifled with. It is also a cake that should be made when it can be easily disposed of on willing guests. Otherwise you're likely to wake up in the middle of the night dreaming about sneaking down for just one more bite. It's hard to resist, this cake. You'll want to eat the whole thing. And really, no one needs to be that naughty....not whole bacon cake naughty.

The illicit thrill fades when you over indulge. And really, the fatty, salty, slightly dirty bacon-ness of it all should be savored--good behavior be damned.

Here's the recipe. And I'm linking to it rather than retyping the recipe so you can see the flights of obsession it inspires in others. Namely the author of the blog that kindly supplied us with the recipe. So you'll know I'm not crazy.

The inaugural bacon cake was consumed as part of a Foodie Films night featuring "Mostly Martha," which I am at this very moment watching. Again. The movie is also indulgent and a little bit decadent. It's fabulous. And it's a movie that I suspect would totally get bacon cake, seeing as it's a movie all about the naughty, slightly-dirty-in-the-best-way, sensual appreciation of food and what that can do for people. I recommend it (just ignore the dated sax music and focus on the food. And the bursts of Louis Prima.). And clearly I also recommend the bacon cake.

Canned Sunshine

In flipping through past posts it's clear we're deep into winter. It seems as though there was so much more to write about in the summer and fall. The seasonal proclivities of FFHC seem to follow the seasonal trends of crops as well. Bountiful in the fall....lacking in the winter months. We still cook a lot but like the crops my creativity seems to be fallow these days. Unfortunate really since writing is the perfect cold weather activity.

Tonight we're having the second of what hopefully will be a regularly occurring dinner and a movie night focused on food themed films. The first featured "Chocolat." Following a dinner of grass fed beef and simply prepared veggies (including my new favorite quick braised cabbage) we had a dessert of chocolate fondue, naturally.

Tonight's dinner and movie are less closely aligned out of sheer laziness on my part. Watching "Mostly Martha" and eating pasta. Pasta's just such an easy way to feed a large crowd with ingredients that are on hand. I'm dreaming about farmer's markets and gardens but even in my more southern location these days that's months away.

The one sunny bright spot of the culinary landscape? The multiple cases of citrus fruit that arrived courtesy of a fundraiser for a local choir. The sunny bursts of citrus scents and color in the house might just help me survive until the weather turns. To that end...trying my first canning experiment under the tutelage of KF. Grapefruit marmalade is percolating away on the stove as I type. It smells wonderfully sunshiney. I'll let you know how it turns out, this is a multiple day project.

A Fish in Favor

Anchovies appear to be having their moment. Evidenced here and here. Which bodes very well for the multiple cans of anchovies in my cupboard. I accidentally overbought them in a fit of overexcitement over a recipe for a romanesco cauliflower pasta dish this fall when it was in season. So pretty. And oddly, the first time I had actually cooked with anchovies. I had a hard to shake suspicion of canned fish for a long time. No more.

Hibernation

I had time to ponder the affects of snOMG 2010 (insert favorite snowism here, there were many) on my wintery trek to work today. Secretly the Northerner in me takes a small amount of smug joy in all this snow paralyzing the city.

I should probably be more understanding of the panic that gripped the city, given that this region is entirely unprepared for any significant amount of snow. The large number of flat roofs alone indicates just how unprepared. Don’t worry, I got my comeuppance yesterday when the skylight in my house succumbed to the large mound of snow on it and started leaking like a sieve. Smug Northern revelry officially stifled.

It will take DC a long time to dig out from under this one, but despite all the memorable images, inch counts and snow drifts still in evidence, the memory of the storm is largely fading for me into a pleasant blur of social gatherings. Specifically comfort food driven social gatherings. We clearly survived the storms by eating our way through them. (And maybe drinking a little way through as well.)The first round of snow over the weekend fueled some great impromptu neighborly feasts. Nothing like a fabulous, remarkably well coordinated, last minute Indian feast to beat the cold. Lots of heat. Yum.

Saturday morning IAG treated us to panko crusted deep fried soft boiled eggs with sriracha remoulade. And yes it was every bit as decadent, delicious and artery clogging as it sounds. Justifiable winter fuel in my mind and an experiment worth repeating.

I also learned how to cook polenta this weekend, and found myself wondering why it took me so long to get around to it. So easy. So delicious. And so very useful. We followed Bittman's recipe in "How to Cook Everything." It made a wonderful base for two slow cooked beef dishes on Saturday and Sunday. Nothing says “winter” in my mind like a slow cooker or dutch oven meal. Both were delicious-one winier than the other, but aside from that not terribly different preparations in the end. Also delicious: the chili WM and BO’G served for their Superbowl gathering. Great game.

Sunday morning JB whipped together some great sweetpotato hashbrowns with diced local bacon. Lovely with an egg on top. Not one of IAG’s super stylin deep fried kind, but an egg nonetheless.

The second round of snow Tuesday into Wednesday produced an avalance of baked goods. A yummy, sticky, chocolatey assortment of goodness that came with the added bonus of being largely delivered to our door by stir crazy friends. Hooray for intrepid neighbors!