Showing posts with label thanks mom from the north. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thanks mom from the north. Show all posts

Monday, August 31, 2009

zucchini saute



  • fresh green and yellow zucchini (or summer squash if you must be a pain in the ass), cut into small pieces
  • olive oil
  • coarse salt
  • fresh ground pepper

In 2 swirls of oil, heat the zucchini over a medium flame until slightly tender. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

The dish: My in-laws live in a rural town that makes most of Norman Rockwell's paintings seem downright urban. It's the type of town with one store and no traffic lights, where everybody knows everyone and you can comfortably leave your doors unlocked fifty weeks of the year. When the townsfolk are are reaching for their keys when they enter their homes, you can be sure of one thing; it's zucchini season. Being that the population density is about 1 person per square mile, pretty much everyone has an active garden and zucchini is easy to grow, yields a bit and apparently isn't too popular for dinner. Under the guise of being kind-hearted, folks will leave squash in their neighbors cars and foyers, often to be found by people with their own harvest surplus. I'd love to have such problems, as zucchini is one of my favorites, but when I left my door open all that happened was that my stereo got stolen (well, not really, but I didn't get any squash either, dammit). Fortunately, Kim visited her mother recently and returned home with a zucchini the size of my leg. Between that and the good folks from our favorite farm, we've had a bit of squash to work through. If you're getting tired of reading about it, then lock your doors, you're probably not the only one who feels that way.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

salad with honey roasted rhubarb and Parmesan crisps in champagne vinaigrette


  • mixed salad greens
  • rhubarb, chopped
  • honey
  • Parmesan cheese
  • champagne vinegar
  • olive oil
  • sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In large casserole dish combine rhubarb with a generous amount of honey and roast for 20 minutes or until cooked (I figured this would be messy, so I used a tray from the dollar store so I could just toss it when done). Once rhubarb is cooked, drain water and chill. Line a baking tray with parchment paper sprayed with olive oil, or a cooking spray if you don't own a Misto (there's that crass commercialism again- really folks, I don't sell this stuff). Place 3 inch ound piles of Parmesan cheese on tray and bake for 10-15 minutes or until just browned and crispy. Once done, set aside to cool. Whisk together oil and vinegar with a few pinches of sugar to taste. Assemble greens on plate, top with rhubarb and crisp, drizzle with dressing.

The dish: This salad was the beginning of a dinner where we hosted both Kim's and my own parents. Everyone had a great time (at least they lied to me and said they did) and this dish was a nod to both of our mothers. The rhubarb came directly from Kim's parent's garden, and my mother-in-law was happy to taste a new preparation of the amazingly bitter veggie. Them bringing me the rhubarb and wondering what I was going to do with it had a cool Iron Chef vibe to it. The crisps were something I made for Easter dinner last year (pre-blog) and my mother absolutely loved them. I would make them more often for her, but truthfully, Parmesan doesn't have the sweetest aroma and my kitchen tends to smell like a foot after making a batch. Be sure to have your exhaust fan on high when attempting this at home. Things went without a hitch though; Kim's parents loved the crisps, my parents loved the rhubarb and all we had were empty salad plates.

Monday, April 6, 2009

mango, pork and avocado wraps


  • 1 cup cooked pork, cubed (I used some boneless pork chops that were on special)
  • 2 large mangos, peeled and cubed
  • 1 avocado, cubed
  • your favorite sandwich wraps
  • mayonnaise
  • adobo (I've been rocking the light variety)
  • fresh cilantro, chopped fine
  • half of a lime

In a small bowl combine about 1/4 cup of mayonnaise with cilantro, a few shakes of adobo, and juice of half the lime. Stir together until fully combined. Assemble wrap by spreading mayo mixture on 1 side and placing equal amounts of avocado, mango and pork in center. Wrap it up and enjoy!

The dish: My wife is known for many things; her ravishing beauty, her sharp wit, her ivy league education, her irreproachable selection of husbands. One of her lesser known attributes is her ability to roll a wrap like nobody's business. This no doubt stems from her brief stint in the budding moments of the 1990s as a Taco Bell employee. She's a quick learner with great retention and here, many sunsets later, she can construct a wrap that is the envy of all. I am truly covetous of this, as I, someone who has some serious deli cred, can wrap about as well as I can play the accordion (read: not so hot). Working together is the foundation of any solid relationship and I'm proud to say that we get along as well as mango and pork (and avocado and cilantro lime mayo). The personalized plate was a Christmas gift from my mother-in-law and I find it fitting that it is showcased in this recipe which parades one of her daughter's greatest talents.