roasted tomatillo salsa

preheat oven to 375.

combine in a large roasting pan, large enough that contents fit loosely:

1.5 lbs tomatillos, cut in half
6-10 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled
3-5 jalapenos, sliced in half, deveined, deseeded
1 poblano chiles, quarterted, deveined, deseeded
1 lg. carrot, peeled and cut into quarter-inch lengths
1-2 onions, peeled and cut into quarters
enough oil to lubricate slightly (olive, sunflower, etc)
several bay leaves, torn in half if large
salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper to taste

Roast in the oven for 40 minutes or more, until the vegetables are softened but have not yet become mush. Pour everything into a blender or food processor and puree until smooth but not destroyed (you should have nice bright pieces of orange carrot in it). Pour this into a dish and add to taste:

fresh lime juice
chopped cilantro
ground cumin
salt
fresh ground black pepper

Mix well, cover and refrigerate for at least one hour, preferably overnight.

these are actually kinda good

From Tel Aviv, then from Phoenicia. Ingredients (and compare this with any American snack food) : wheat flour, palm oil, spices, dehydrated onion, dehydrated garlic, salt, MSG*, corn starch.

* MSG isn't quite what it's cracked up to be. Let's just say there are two sides to the story, believe it or not...

red lentil sauce

pasta with red lentil sauce

1 lb. dried pasta or 8-10 oz. fresh pasta
2 tbs olive oil
1 onion, small dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 stalks celery, small dice
2 carrots, small dice
1/2 can tomato paste
salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 cup red lentils, washed

Heat olive oil in a saucepan for a minute or two. Add the diced and minced vegetables and cook over a low heat until softened. Add the lentils, tomato paste, and salt and black pepper to taste, sauteing with the veggies for a few minutes, then add 2 1/2 cups water. If you're concerned about time, add the water hot or boiling, otherwise cold is fine. Bring to a boil, then cut back to a simmer and cook over low heat (electric) or medium heat (gas) until the lentils are as soft as you like them (I like a little bite).

While the lentils are on their simmer, bring your salted pasta water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until done al dente, remembering that means toothsome, not hard. Drain the pasta, reserving a bit of the cooking water in case the sauce needs lightening.

Put about half the sauce in a mixing bowl. Add the cooked, drained pasta (with a little pasta cooking water if the sauce is too thick for you) and toss. Plate each serving with a some of the sauce-tossed pasta and add a ladle of sauce to the top. Then garnish each to your liking with :

parmesan, pecorino, or other hard grating cheese, grated
rosemary, sage, tarragon, oregano or other herb, separated into leaves or torn in small pieces

This is a great, simple, hearty sauce for pasta. The kind of thing I could eat once or twice a month and not grow weary of, especially as one can tweak this infinitely. You can add leeks or shallots to the saute, use vegetable or chicken broth instead of water, add squash or peppers or peas with the lentils and of course add whatever seasonings you would like. The only thing to bear in mind is that the heartiness of the dish really shines with just one fresh herb to garnish. Too many herbs and the simplicity and elegance are spoiled.

Unlike a lot of lentil preparations ostensibly meant to serve as sauces, this is not a loosened dal. It's actually more reminiscent of bolognese sauce, especially with the holy trinity of onion, carrot and celery to bolster it up. It has a meat-like flavor that makes it excellent for a meat substitute or for a vegetarian missing the old meat sauce. And of course, for those of us who just love the hell out of lentils.

adios, verano (okra with tomatoes & preserved lemon)

Summer is a very relative expression here in Houston, but I'm pretty sure it's... just... about... over. Today was one of the first days that it felt quite sane, even calming, to be outside in the afternoon. September is also the most fallow month here, with branches stripped quite bare of all August's lovely stone fruit, and little more than okra and some spindly, narrow green onions in the farmer's market. As a consequence, I was hungry for something that looked forward to the coolness of the autumn, but was served forth from the products of summer's late bloom, prepared with a touch of snootiness, but not enough to lose its' rugged sensibility. What I ended up with was a dish of richly-simmered okra and tomatoes peppered with teeny bits of chopped, preserved lemon, a humble, nourishing meal, appealing in its' sour simplicity.

(My inclination towards combining frugality with excess led me to use salted butter (in the fridge thanks to the loaf lady, more on her later) as a fat for this. I suppose you could substitute oil of a neutral flavor, such as sunflower or canola, but you will risk losing some of the slippery luxury of the butter version.)

OKRA WITH PRESERVED LEMON

Sautee 2 tbs. or so of salted butter (preferably European-style) with very thinly sliced onion (a small or medium yellow onion should do the trick) and very thinly sliced garlic (maybe 2, 3 cloves) over a low flame until they are nice and soft. Add about a half to two-thirds of a pound of fresh okra pods, sliced in half, raising the heat for a bit to soften the okra. When it starts to soften, add 4 or 5 tbs. of tomato paste (I used about half a can) and a good-sized, ripe tomato. Add a pinch more salt, some freshly ground black pepper, cumin, a couple pinches of cinnamon and a hot powdered pepper of your liking (I used chili de arbol for its well-rounded, intense heat, and quite frankly I could have used much more). Cook this down until it's as soft as you like, then add one half of a preserved lemon, finely chopped. At this point I also added some of the green parts of those meagre green onions I mentioned, but this was not really necessary, just a measure of frugality. A sprinkle of chopped parsley atop the whole mess when you're ready to eat it is definitely recommended.



Enjoy it with wedges of lemon if you're one of us extra bitter types, a dollop of yogurt regardless and some honest, crusty bread always. In the absence of good bread and cash I made do with a media noche bun from Fiesta, lightly toasted in the oven, which served much the same purpose. Drink with something suitably humble, like a ten dollar rustic red from anywhere south of the equator, or beer, or best of all water. If you drink the water, you should really precede and follow with a finger or two of bourbon, insulating the meal like a winter coat, barring yourself in hearty spirit for the winter (or slightly less hot summer, if you live in Houston) yet to come. Feeds two amiably with bread, add a salad for a larger lunch.

From the Cookbook of the American Women's Association of Djakarta, Indonesia, 1969

carrots and tomatoes

"carrots and tomatoes"

a bunch of small carrots
two tomatoes
six or eight cloves of garlic, unpeeled, crushed
splash of olive oil
salt
black pepper
pinch of sugar (if necessary)

To make "carrots and tomatoes," use a bunch of small orange or varicolored carrots such as the ones you'd pick up at a farmers market. They should be organic or at least chemical-free. If they aren't, then peel them. Otherwise, just lop the greens off and scrub the carrots free of grit under running water. If there are any carrots fat as a thumb, slice in half.

Put carrots in a baking dish with plenty of room and eight unpeeled, lightly crushed cloves of garlic. Toss carrots in a splash of olive oil, just enough to slick the pan and the carrots. Cook in an oven at 375 until they appear cooked on the outside but are still a little resistant to your knife or an exploratory tooth.

Slice your two ripe tomatoes into eighths (or sixteenths if they're still a little underripe). Place the tomatoes on top of the carrots, add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste, add a pinch of sugar if the tomatoes are slightly underripe and return to the oven. There is no need to add any oil for the tomatoes, just sprinkle the seasonings on top. Cook until the tomatoes brown nicely and fall apart.

Take out of the oven and toss the carrots and the tomatoes together. There should be plenty of oil in the pan to make everything cook nicely. Resist the urge to add more. Return to the oven until the carrots are perfectly tender. Discard the garlic, which will be black and hellish tasting from leeching away any bitterness from the tomatoes. Plate and serve, or not, as this tastes great anywhere from hot to room temperature.

*SAUCY*

If you're feeling saucy, add a quartered lemon and some washed, drained salt-cured capers to substitute for the salt. ONLY use salt-packed capers, because the other kind are totally weak. But make sure you wash them and pat them dry, or you will have no fun at all.