fauren

Acorn Squash with Wheatberry and Cremini Mushroom Stuffing

Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal (buy)

Ha! Remember me? This fall was an eventful one. A new niece, a new job, travel, what have you. Not that I'm making excuses, but... I'm totally making excuses.

So here we are. 2008 is drawing to a close, and I'm sitting in my breakfast room here in Brooklyn, watching the snow blowing around outside and listening to sad bastard songs about winter with a cup of lukewarm coffee in hand. I'm on an unprecedented two week vacation, which is thankfully giving me some time to experiment in the kitchen again, and so I've come out of hiding to share a hearty winter recipe I whipped up last night.

Acorn squash is one of my favorite winter vegetables, and this recipe was inspired by one I made from the Joy of Cooking for a winter dinner party last year, for quinoa-stuffed acorn squash. I've already documented my love for cooking with grains, but I thought the quinoa was too delicate to keep up with a veggie like acorn squash, so for this recipe I used wheatberries instead. I wanted to add a bit more heft to the stuffing, too, and the gigantic bin of cremini mushrooms at Fairway served as a delicious inspiration.

Runaway Summer! and Fava Bean Spread with Bitter Greens

Modest Mouse - Summer (buy)

Oh, friends!

Summer always seems to do this. Before you know it, three weeks have passed and suddenly you're staring down the business end of Labor Day weekend before you feel like you've gotten to enjoy all the sunshine and warm days.

Luckily in between the weddings and birthdays and concerts and travel, I have actually managed to do some cooking. I just haven't had the wherewithal to sit down at my trusty computer and share it with all of you. That is going to change over the next few days as I play catch-up. In the meantime, enjoy this recipe for a delicious fava bean spread with bitter greens -- likely intended to be an hors d'oeuvre at your next dinner party but also a yummy addition to your beach picnic.

Quinoa Salad with Spring Onions, Tomato, and Feta

Of Montreal - Know Your Onion! (Shins cover)

The term "spring onion" is often used interchangeably with "green onion" and "scallion," but actually, none of these are the same thing. Steve Albert over at Harvest to Table offers a helpful breakdown of the three, explaining that each refers to a different stage of onion growth and offers its own flavor and use. You might hear spring onions referred to as salad onions, since they have a similar bite to mature onions but are usually mild enough to eat raw, in salads or otherwise.

Spring onions surfaced at my Greenmarket last week, and since I had never cooked with them before I thought I'd give them a try. I wasn't sure what I would do with them at first, but when I decided last night that my mint needed some serious pruning -- mint is a notoriously vigorous plant -- its clippings ended up being my inspiration for a salad.

Cold grain salads are one of my favorite things to make during the summer. Grains are a heartier (and usually healthier) substitute for pastas, and are just as amenable to any number of ingredients. I had some quinoa in my pantry cupboard, so I decided to combine my mint and onions with it and a few other ingredients for a simple, summery dinner.

Cherry Almond Chocolate Chunk Ice Cream

Spoon - You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb (buy)

As seems to be the case with a lot of completely delicious foods, I came late to cherries. Maybe I had a bad maraschino experience somewhere in there (I maintain that those are not cherries), but for years I swore off the fruit entirely. My mother thought I was crazy, and now that I also know how wonderful the cherry is, I think I must have been crazy too.

Cherries dole out a lot of tough love, though. They're sweet and juicy and completely addictive, but of course if you eat too many of them... well. It ain't pretty. So when I walked by my Wednesday Greenmarket last week and saw that it was brimming with pints of cherries, I thought I was in some serious trouble.

Then it occurred to me. There is a way to eat all these cherries with some restraint: surround them with heavy cream and sugar and chocolate, and you'll feel a little guiltier about shoveling them all into your face in one afternoon. Maybe.

Garlic Scape Deviled Eggs

Daniel Johnston - Devil Town (buy)

I refused to eat hard boiled eggs when I was a kid. Every Easter egg hunt ended with me emptying my basket out on the living room coffee table, separating its eggs into piles of hard boiled and chocolate varieties, and leaving the non-foil-wrapped ones for dead. Needless to say, I wasn't a fan of the egg salad that inevitably surfaced in our fridge after the festivities were over, either.

This all changed when my mom made deviled eggs for my dad's 60th birthday party a few years back. The recipe was a pesto variation, loaded with fresh basil and pine nuts. Turns out, they were also highly addictive. Since then, my opinion of hard boiled eggs has completely reversed; last summer I probably made three or four big batches of egg salad over the course of a couple months. And I ate it ALL.

About two weeks ago, I started craving deviled eggs like nobody's business. Maybe because they're one of the world's perfect picnic foods, or because that hard-boiled egg white is so cooling on the tongue on a hot day, but they just seem to perfectly encapsulate summer to me. So I set out on a mission to make some this past weekend.

What's more, we got another bunch of beautiful garlic scape in this week's CSA share, so they became my not-so-secret ingredient.

Scapes are spicy and pungent when raw, packing a similar initial punch to raw mature garlic, but the flavor is subtler and subsides quickly enough that it doesn't overwhelm the senses. This is not to say you won't experience a little garlic breath, but I guarantee it's of a much gentler variety. And well worth it.

These eggs start with Ruth Reichl's recommended method of hard boiling eggs, found in the latest edition of The Gourmet Cookbook and -- aside from peeling the eggs, perhaps -- are incredibly easy to make.

Hearty Roots Braised Bok Choy

This spring, my roommate Emily and I signed up for a vegetable share from the Greenwood Heights CSA, which gets its produce from Hearty Roots Community Farm in Tivoli, NY (yes, it's the farm that got the hipster treatment in that New York Times piece a few months back). Apart from feeling particularly good about local veggies in light of yet more food safety trouble -- we're now at 36 states reporting salmonella illness from tomatoes -- I am loving the element of surprise. We don't know what we'll get until the morning we pick it up; it's just whatever is ready for harvesting at the end of a given week.

The bonus is that the newsletter Hearty Roots sends along each week includes a recipe for one of the vegetables they're harvesting, and since some of what we've gotten so far is completely foreign to me (sweet Japanese turnips, anyone?) it's a very helpful thing. That's where this recipe for braised bok choy comes from. Braising makes the bok choy very tender and brings out the sweetness of the red onions, which is subtly offset by the acid of the rice vinegar. Easy and delicious, which was just what this lady needed after a wonderfully tiring weekend.

Blanched Sugar Snap Peas with Shallots and Thyme

As much as I might gripe that working in my neighborhood has stunted my experience of New York City over the last year (I hardly ever even ride the subway any more... it's just not right), there are distinct advantages to it. One of them is my weekly lunch break stop at the Bartel-Pritchard Greenmarket. I go right by it on my walk home, and it offers just enough to tide me over until the weekend.

Yesterday I not only got my paws on yet another pint of strawberries, but it was also the first week for sugar snap peas there. Sugar snap peas! They're like candy! Only with more fiber.

I figured I'd just leave them at the front of the fridge for easy grabbing by the handful whenever I wanted a snack, but when I got home from work last night and realized I hadn't thought at all about what I'd make for dinner, it was time to get a little more creative. This preparation calls for blanching the peas -- which both brightens them and crisps them up -- and then serving them cold. Very refreshing on yet another humid Brooklyn evening.

Strawberry Ice Cream, Strawberry Sorbet, Food Coma

Guess what I did this weekend.

What can I say? I'm the type of lady who likes to deliver on her promises.

While I was home this weekend, my parents were hosting some folks who'd come down for a nearby wedding. Turns out, they were part of the family that runs Butterworks Farm in Westfield, Vermont, and they arrived with arm loads of fresh yogurt and heavy cream for the wedding brunch and as thank you gifts. Between that and the pint of deep red strawberries awaiting us when we woke up Saturday morning, I took it as a sign. A rich, delicious sign.

Parmesan Roasted Asparagus

This is a little late in coming now that asparagus season is pretty much past its peak, but if you're still coming across bunches of it at your farmers market, I highly recommend you snag some and enjoy while you can. Grocery store asparagus has nothing on the fresh stuff. (Read Barbara Kingsolver's thoughts on the matter in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and you'll start to understand the significant difference.)

Because fresh asparagus is so delicious in its simplest state, I'm usually loathe to doctor it up too much. Other times, though, I can't help myself... especially when it involves cheese. I'm a sucker for cheese.

So If you must do something to your asparagus, whether to make it more palatable to your kids or to satisfy a craving for a little something salty and fatty, here's a simple but tasty preparation.

Summer Just Got Even More Awesome

It seems summer has already picked up in earnest, if you take my lack of updates as any indication. But there's so much good stuff happening food-wise right now that I just had to shun my responsibilities at work in favor of catching up on things here. You understand.

So I'd like to talk about how excited I am that local strawberries are in season. I'm SO EXCITED. This is something I await with just as much anticipation as tomatoes at the end of the summer, and the rewards are equally as sweet. Last year, my mom made some incredible strawberry ice cream with the tiny wild strawberries that grow near my parents' place in Massachusetts, and it was the fruitiest, freshest tasting strawberry ice cream I've ever had. Now that the season has come around again, I find myself daydreaming uncontrollably about the deliciousness.

(This pint of strawberries was waiting for me when I stopped by my folks' place on the way back to NYC from Martha's Vineyard last weekend. It survived for approximately 4 hours.)

Now, since wild strawberry season up in MA is barely three weeks long, I realized this spring that I could easily miss my window for mom's ice cream this year if I didn't plan my visits home right. That's when I decided I'd better develop a contingency plan:

That's right, gentlemen. I have the capability.

When it gets so hot in the city, it's impossible to motivate myself to make food that requires use of the stove or oven, but anything involving a frozen canister is something I can definitely get behind. Strawberry ice cream is first up, but if anyone out there has a favorite recipe or flavor combination, you know how to find me.