cast iron cooking

This weekend, I discovered the magic of cast iron cooking. I'm now hooked. I've been wanting to start cooking with cast iron for a few years now, and I even have an old cast iron skillet that I purchased at an antique store sitting in the bottom of my closet at my mom's house. I mean to bring it back to New York every time I visit home. Somehow, though, at the end of each trip, I talk myself out of lugging the hefty iron mass back across the U.S. in my suitcase, and the pan remains there, un-seasoned though not unloved, for another several months.

Enter Crate & Barrel. Mary and I have had a gift certificate from there burning a hole in our pockets ever since we moved into our apartment, and we finally got into the city to shop this weekend. With it, we picked up a french press for making coffee and herbal infusions, the Baked cookbook (oh yum), and a sizeable, pre-seasoned cast iron skillet. 

After a day of cooking together, my skillet and I are tight. It has far more benefits than I previously thought. My original desire for a cast iron pan was born from a need for cookware that could go from stovetop to oven, as we previously had none. That was only scratching the surface of this pan's great qualities. Cooking with cast iron is actually an excellent way to add iron to your diet, a nutrient which almost fifty percent of Americans, mostly women, lack. In addition, cast iron that has been seasoned is naturally non-stick and does not contain any of the carcinogens in modern non-stick cookware. Add to these qualities that it conducts and retains heat beautifully, and you can understand why I'm smitten.

So why isn't cast iron cookware more popular today? It's cheap, versatile, health-promoting, and makes delicious food. The thing about cast iron cookware is that it can last multiple lifetimes if you care for it properly. For marketers, this is a downside, because it means they sell fewer pans. For the rest of us, this is great. As long as you practice some routine maintenance, you can enjoy a lifetime of happiness with your new pan.

Unless the cast iron pan you buy is pre-seasoned, you must season it yourself before use. Calm down: it's not hard. Mark Bittman gives simple instructions here. You are then ready to cook. After cooking, just remember not to wash with soap. I use hot water and a hard-bristled brush to scrape off any left-behind food. Note that while most cast iron enthusiasts warn against using soap on your cast iron, others swear a mild soap is fine and, at worst, will only cause you to have to re-season it before the next use. After washing, dry the pan immediately to prevent rust and apply a thin coat of oil such as grape seed or coconut to the cooking surface, wiping away any excess. Store your cookware in a dry place, and you can look forward to a long and happy life together. 

Now that cast iron has found its way into our home, I was finally able to make this frittata that I've been lusting after. I don't need to give you the recipe, as Tea has provided an excellent one here, which you can alter to your liking.

-Kylie

Er...hello.

Please, please, please, don't be mad at me.  From the looks of it, it’s been 3 months since my last post, and all I can say is…woopsie daisy.  Don’t fret, I thought about you ever day we were apart.  Plus, I have a really good excuse, I promise!  I do!  Ok, I’ll just come right out and say it.

I’ve enrolled in Culinary School! (yay)

That means that each day at 4 pm, I shut down my work computer, grab my knife kit, school books, and uniform, and leave my downtown cubicle in the dust.  Then from 5:30 to 10:30pm I’m brunoise-ing, and sauté-ing, and tourne-ing, and degrassier-ing.  I’m playing with santokus, chard, halibut bones, and china caps.  I’m taking copious notes on the proper way to cream garlic, and when you must and must not salt the boiling water.

In other words, I’m having the time of my life.

It took me some weeks (ok, some months) of trial and error to figure out how to fit my regular life into my new work/culinary school packed schedule.  But now I’m back and more excited than ever before to share with you some new favorite dishes and fancy restaurant techniques (straight from Le Cordon Bleu instructors!) If you want an even more detailed account of the life of a culinary student, check out Hillary’s blog.  She’s one of my new culinary school buddies, and she’s super awesome.  As for me, I’m going to continue on much like before, but hopefully with slightly more successful recipes!

And with that, I'd like to tell you about the best meal I've eaten in months.  I wish I could credit it's success to the fact that I'm paying someone to tell me how to cook better.  But I can't.  Nope.  This time, every last ounce of credit must go to the incredible farmers who sell their stunning produce at the Green City Farmer's Market here in Chicago.  Last Saturday, I found myself snatching up purple haze carrots, multi-colored sweet peppers, dinosaur-egg plums, long ears of golden corn, and the most exciting finds, the sweetest green, yellow, red, and purple cherry tomatoes I've ever tasted and an armful of fresh-as-can-be basil. 

As any cook knows, there's only two things to do when you have oodles of basil: 1) make a bucket of pesto, and 2) invite your friends over to help you eat it.  So, that's how my impromptu Sunday night dinner party was born.  It was clear that such beautiful basil could not be wasted on the dry, flavorless noodles from the pasta aisle of the grocery store, so the first step would have to be rolling out my own fettucine.  If you've never rolled your own pasta before, my goodness, I suggest that you try it.  Not only will it result in a vastly more tasty noodle, but I can guarantee you will also have a most excellent time making it.  That being said, if you don't have access to a pasta roller, I might suggest splurging for fresh pasta instead of the boxed stuff, because really, fresh basil deserves no less.

A Late Summer Sunday Night Pasta Party Menu:

whole-wheat, handmade pasta with market-fresh basil pesto
 

heirloom cherry tomato and fresh mozzarella salad

Pasta Ingredients: (makes 1 lb.)
2 cups flour
2 extra large eggs
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt

Pesto Ingredients: (makes 1 cup)
2 cloves of garlic
3 Tablespoons pine nuts
3 cups basil leaves, no stems, washed and dried
a heaping 1/2 cup freshly grated parmemsean
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt to taste

Cherry Tomato Salad Ingredients:
1 pint fresh heirloom cherry tomatos (the more different colors, the better)
1/2 pound small fresh mozerrella balls
Basil, chiffonade

Step 1:  Make your pasta.  Like I said, making pasta is not nearly as hard as it looks.  Everyone has their favorite ratio of ingredients and method of pulling it together, and unsurprisingly mine can be found in Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.  I prefer using the "well" method, and since an image is worth 1000 words, I've attached a youtube link showing you how to do it.  After finishing your pasta, lightly flour it and set it aside while you prepare the rest of the meal.

Step 2: Make your pesto.  Using a food processor, combine the garlic, salt and pine nuts until finely chopped.  Add basil and olive oil and blend until smooth.  Add cheese and process long enough to combine, but no more.

Step 3.  Make your salad.  Depending on the size of the tomatoes, you may want to cut them in half.  I did, but this is by no means necessary.  Toss the tomatoes with mozerella in bite site pieces.  Sprinkle with the chiffonade of basil, and serve fresh. 

the pizza at delancey

I'll admit it: I'm a food blogger stalker.

I love food blogs. Before Adriana and I started this one, I pored over and adored the blogs of others for years. Food bloggers were like the cool kids in high school, but way better. They received the bounty of the land and cooked it into deliciousness, then wrote about it eloquently and with such warmth it made me feel as if I could be the best of friends with them. Becoming a food blogger was that thing that I knew I could do, but that I didn't want to do for fear that I couldn't measure up to what was out there.

Thankfully, I have a really great friend in the Land of Deep Dish Pizza who makes me feel a lot less timid about doing things. We started a blog, and we keep on working at it and trying to make it better. Still, I think I can speak for both Adriana and myself and say that we're thoroughly in awe of other bloggers. One of the many blogs I adore is that of Molly Wizenberg, Orangette.

Back in the spring, I trucked to a bookstore in Chelsea after a particularly arduous day of work to hear her read from her book, A Homemade Life, and have her sign it. If I believe in what someone is doing, and they seem like a really nice person, chances are high that I'll be excited to support them. When Molly announced that her husband, Brandon Pettit, would be opening a restaurant in Seattle, I couldn't wait to pack my bags to go and eat there.

So it was that, after many months of antsily waiting and following Delancey's progress on Orangette and Twitter, the restaurant was open, and I was in Seattle. I dragged my friends along to tease me about being a food blogger stalker as I pointed out to them Brandon, and Molly, and The Chef (of Gluten-Free Girl fame) with pride.

While it may seem to you that I'm a tad partial to this restaurant, I've got to say: Go to Delancey. Go now. Do not wait. Even if you're not as obsessed with food and food bloggers as I am, I think you'll love this place. The restaurant is sparse yet warm, somehow charming in its almost barren decor. The Italian pizza oven entrances you with its neon flames while you wait for a table. The salad we had was unbelievably fresh, and perfect in its simplicity. Then there was the pizza. We tried the Padron, which you need to have if you really love spice; the crimini, bedecked in thinly sliced mushrooms and thyme; and the Brooklyn, a pie that embodies what pizza should be.

While usually I would have stopped with the pizza, we knew we had to try Delancey's desserts. And so we did: A warm chocolate chip cookie ready to be dunked in a glass of creamy milk, and a blackberry yogurt popsicle served in a shot glass. Incredible.

Do I need to say it again? Go. Go to Delancey now.

-Kylie

vacation (all i ever wanted)

When this little grant writer's head started spinning after a summer full of government proposals, sweltering East Coast rains, and stories of NYC apartment rat infestations, she got smart and got out. That's right: Mary and I are officially on vacation, in the temperate and exceedingly pleasant Pacific Northwest. During our first two blissful days of vacation, we've had no problem remembering why the Seattle area is our favorite place to eat.

Vacation started with a morning visit to the Redmond Saturday Market, where we ogled the beautifully fresh produce. While there, we made sure to pick up a few sausage and pepper sandwiches from Wise Guys Italian. The irony isn't lost on me that we came all the way from Brooklyn to the Seattle area to enjoy a quintessentially New York sandwich, but it was worth it. They use this special contraption to hollow out each piece of Italian bread, then fill the cavity with a scaldingly hot mix of sausage, peppers and onions. As you burn your mouth trying to bite into the sandwich, rich, spicy sauce drips onto your fingers, evidence of extreme happiness and satiety. Yum.

Some other things vacation has included thus far? Friends. So many of them. A totally incredible chocolate cake with chocolate buttermilk frosting and (most impressively) a decorative heart of multicolored sprinkles. A trip to Sur La Table for good measure, because one can never have too many baking pans, miniature ramekins or mozzarella cheese slicers.

 

And oh, oh my. The Northwest's bounty: fresh blackberries growing uncontrollably in every backyard, practically sprouting out your ears. They're ready to be baked into crisps and pies, hidden under great dollops of whipped cream, or simply devoured until your tummy grumbles suspiciously. Oh, sweet berries, pockets of juice breaking on my tongue and sliding lusciously across my palate like winey velvet. I can't get enough of you.

Nor can I get enough of this place where the sun shines during the day but it's chilly at night, and where we get to eat outside by candlelight and breathe in smells of blossoming roses and deep green grass. Today this Brooklyn girl is truly in heaven.

-Kylie

sweet relief

The past few weeks, it's been, on average, about 93 degrees Fahrenheit in our kitchen. How do I know this? Well, this little surfboard magnet on the side of our fridge has a handy dandy thermometer on it. I'm really glad it does. Makes complaining about the heat so much easier when I have tangible proof of kitchen temperature.

You see, Mary and I decided to get through this summer without the help of an air conditioner. We had several reasons for this decision. Fresh air is lovely. Air conditioners are expensive. They're not energy efficient. We don't have that many windows, and we don't want to block out light with a bulky window unit. And also, secretly, it makes us (or at least me) feel rather proud to think that we're living without the modern luxury of that quickly-cooled air. Call me crazy; I probably am.The result of this decision, however, is that we sleep on top of the sheets and blankets with a strong fan blowing directly on our sticky bodies. I often find myself padding to the freezer after a few hours of tossing and turning to retrieve an ice pack, which I then tote back to bed with me wrapped in a towel and grasp as if I'm an inconsolable toddler and it is my security blanket. Not to worry; that always does the trick. I fall asleep in minutes, lulled into slumber by the coolness of the melting bundle in my arms.

During the really hot, humid days, draping ourselves over the refrigerator door sometimes provides a moment of relief. Or drinking a chilled glass of water in a stream of hurried gulps. But after a meal, when I kind of want ice cream but know I'll just get annoyed that it's melting so fast, I turn to cool, sweet fruit, slurped up as its juice trickles down to my elbow, and enjoyed so much more because I know it will be gone from the market in a matter of weeks. This watermelon salad was inspired by an incredible appetizer I recently had at The Farm on Adderley, my very favorite restaurant. Personally, I feel it fits even better at a summer meal's end than at its beginning. I have the feeling I'll be making this for years to come, with whatever fruits are in season and whatever nuts and herbs strike my fancy.While I may be wilting in the heat, we've just got to revel in summer while it's here. So soon, it will be gone for another year.

Sweet Watermelon Salad

Inspired by The Farm on Adderley

Ingredients:

Several slices of watermelon, black seeds removed

1 ounce of chevre or another fresh, tangy cheese such as feta

10 unsalted pistachios, coarsely chopped

1/2 tsp. of your favorite honey

A few pinches of lavender blossoms

Assemble watermelon slices on a plate. With your fingers, gently pry off small nubs of cheese and sprinkle over the fruit. Sprinkle pistachios over next. Dip a fork into the honey and drizzle in quickly over the salad. Sprinkle salad with lavendar blossoms, and serve immediately.

-Kylie