In Jennie's Kitchen

lemon thyme & hummus egg salad

If you had asked me a few weeks ago about egg salad, I probably would've smiled politely, then let my mind wander to thoughts of something I actually enjoy eating.

By now, you've probably realized I'm not finicky about my food choices. During my years at Gramercy Tavern and Alain Ducasse, I ate many foods I wouldn't have ordered on my own. Some I enjoyed more than expected, and others I wish to never eat again—sweetbreads rank high on this list (please take note if I'm ever invited to dinner. I can't even be polite and force a swallow).

I've tasted bear, at a diner in upstate New York no less—and pretty much every part of a lamb, except the genitals (vegetarians, my apologies if you're feeling faint). I didn't like lamb before that, and am finally coming forward to say I still don't.

Compared to a lamb heart, egg salad should be a no brainer right?

Not exactly.

Mayonnaise terrifies me. I'd eat lamb heart before ever ordering egg salad in a restaurant.

This has been a problem my whole life because BLTs, done right, are my favorite sandwich. I always stress no mayo when ordering, and my heart quickens as I see the dish make its way to the table. The dreaded moment when I look down crestfallen, to see white goopy stuff spilling out the sides. What's worse is when I remind the server I ordered it without mayo and my sandwich returns with just new bread, the remnants of mayo clinging to the top layer of the filling, sullied forever and destined to never touch my tongue.

At this point there's no sense in returning said sandwich. Lord only knows what kind of revenge the cook might exact. This isn't a problem at a Gramercy Tavern, but at your local diner I'm not taking any chances. I'll just avoid the BLT.

I should mention I will eat my own homemade mayo. I even have a recipe for homemade egg-white mayonnaise—it's quite good too!

But, enough about bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayo.

Last week, I received a copy of You Can Trust a Skinny Cook. I'd tell you how happy this book has made me, but after this post on Simple Scratch, I'm worried Allison might send a virtual restraining order my way.

See, I have a girl crush on Allison Fishman. Once you pick up her new book, you will understand why.

Allison has a recipe for crisp bread with egg and avocado in You Can Trust a Skinny Cook. It's insanely simple—take a hard boiled egg, mash it with some lime juice and salt, top a multigrain crisp bread with avocado slices, smear on the egg "salad" and eat.

Before reading this I'd never thought to make an egg salad without mayonnaise.

Please stop rolling your eyes. My life has been busy with a rough childhood, and now two kiddies of my own. I haven't committed any food crimes. I've just been too preoccupied with life to give egg salad any real thought.

Allison's book arrived the day before I set out to make some Italian Easter Bread. I decided to cook it with eggs this time, which meant I'd be left with four hard-cooked ones. I usually add them chopped up to tuna salad, made with olive oil and red wine vinegar, not mayo.

After reading Allison's recipe, though, I decided to venture out on my own.

See what I'd been missing all these years.

I just so happened to have some of that white bean hummus in the fridge too. It's white and creamy, so I thought it would make a nice binder to hold the egg salad together. I snipped a sprig of lemon thyme too—why not?

I'll confess, I half-expected to take one bite, shrug my shoulders and look for something else to satisfy my hunger.

What happened next was as surprising as the Grinch's heart growing three sizes that day.

It turns out I do love egg salad.

I will eat it on a bus, in a plane and on a train.

I'd eat in on a sunny day, cloudy and in the rain.

Please just hold the mayo, and give me white bean hummus once again.

lemon thyme & hummus egg salad

serves one

print this recipe

1 hard boiled egg, peeled and cut into pieces

2 teaspoons white bean hummus

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1 spring of lemon thyme, leaves removed and stem discarded

1 slice toasted country bread

Add the egg to a small bowl and mash it with the back of a fork. Add the hummus, salt, pepper and lemon thyme, then use the fork to stir it together, until mixed well.

To serve, spread the egg salad on the bread and eat immediately.

 

 

instant turkey pot pie

Last night, after the final dishes were washed, the floors cleaned and leftovers stowed away, I settled in with the Sunday Times. Yes, I’m quite behind in reading, considering this was a Thursday evening and we’re talking about the past Sunday’s paper.

In the real estate section was an article about high-end assisted living communities for retirees. Watching your parents age is one of the toughest parts of growing up. It has weighed very heavily on the Mr., being an only-child, as to how we can help, considering his parents don’t have the means to spend thousands of dollars a month on a retirement community. We have our own financial future to ponder and college for two to plan for, as well.

This leaves the Mr. and I are at a crossroads. In their early 80s and hearing-impaired, they are legally deaf, we realized earlier this year that they are reaching a point at which they can’t live on their own much longer. Thankfully a caring neighbor set them up with a social worker, who in turn got them signed up for City Meals on Wheels. Cooking was always something done out of necessity, and the fact that my mother-in-law's arthritis now makes it difficult for her to even lift a pot, this has been a vital service. One puzzle piece in place.

So, I just want to extend one more heartfelt thanks to Shauna, Jen, Cheryl, Gail, Merry-Jennifer, Gina, Brooke, Jessica, Rachael, Winnie, Cathy, Casey, Carol, Vanessa, Ilina, Silvana, Sue and my other dear friend Jen. In a week filled with loss of electricity, volunteering at soup kitchens, traveling to family and preparing a special meal for loved ones, you put the needs of others first. It is an honor to call you all friends, and my life is truly richer for having you in it.

Instant Turkey Pot Pie

Serves as many as you like

This is the first incarnation of leftovers at our house. It was a spur of the moment lunch I prepared for the Mr., and a very thrifty use of all the leftovers. I’m not including exact amounts, but rather giving you the blueprint so you can make individual servings or layer them into a larger casserole dish to serve family style (and I highly recommend a basket of biscuits if you do it that way too).

Stuffing

Gravy

White and dark meat turkey, chopped or shredded

Mashed potatoes

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Butter the bottom and sides of individual ramekins or a 12-inch oval casserole dish. Spoon an even layer of stuffing into the bottom of the dish. In a separate bowl mix together some gravy and turkey. Spoon on top of the stuffing. Using an offset spatula, spread a layer of mashed potatoes on top.

Bake until heated through, about 15 to 18 minutes for individual servings, and 25 to 28 minutes for larger casseroles. Remove from oven and turn oven setting to broil. Place casserole under the broiler until top turns golden, 3 to 5 minutes, watching carefully so it does not burn. Serve immediately.

 

pickled jalapeno watermelon rind

Soothing waters.

Seagulls trying to steal our potato chips off the beach blanket.

Sand scratching between my toes.

Tomorrow is the big day. The one we wait for every year. The countdown really starts the moment our car rolls down the driveway onto Shore Road, and we wait another 365 days to return to North Truro.

Before I could think about packing, though, I wanted to make sure you had this recipe for pickled watermelon rind. After tasting it—my first venture into this very unique and intriguing Southern side, I decided it was worthy of bumping the other 20 or so recipes in the queue.

summer fest 2010: corn chowder & ice cream

 

Remember yesterday I mentioned the vacation countdown? Well, hope you don't tire of hearing about it. Seems every day brings a new reason to need to get away. Today is the middle of week three of construction right outside our apartment. It's necessary stuff—gas pipelines and sewer pipes. Don't get wrong, I want them to do this work, lest our basement overflow, or even worse—my stove ceases to turn on (though I can turn out some pretty good stuff with a hot plate and convection oven if my back is against the wall).

So add loud trucks, bulldozers and a lot of dust and dirt to the list as reason #372 why an escape from city living is much needed.

There is a downside to vacation, though. 

tomato jam, mozzarella & spinach panini

 

I should be sleeping, or at the very least showered and in my jammies since I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. The day starts with Isabella's 1st grade graduation and end of year party, before heading to my younger sister's highschool graduation in Pennsylvania. 

Oh, and there's two kids to wake in the morning, breakfast to be made, one lunch to be packed and much writing to be done before I hit the road to very likely get stuck in Jersey Shore traffic.

I feel pooped just thinking about it all. Yet, I'm here, getting ready to tell you about a sandwich I discovered a few months ago. It wasn't at a fancy restaurant, and didn't even require a trip to the island of Manhattan. In fact, my commute was all of 11 steps to the pantry.

Remember that sweet and savory tomato jam I canned last year? Well, it's all gone now, and that's mostly due to this darn sandwich. Breville sent me my very first panini press a few months ago, and it coincided with a caprese craving—you know that classic Italian pairing of tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and basil.

Except it was the end of March and tomatoes were way off. Basil was still rubbing the sleep from its eyes too. But I had two jars of that jam left, and some of this amazing spinach I'd sauteed as a side to serve with our Passover brisket. The last piece of the puzzle was fresh mozzarella, which I luckily have access to year-round, handmade at a family-run Italian shop just a few blocks away.

 

I had also been making a lot of bread, and this Parmesan Scallion Boule nicely compliments the ingredients, though it isn't a requirement. All you really need to enjoy this is an unabashed love of tomatoes and melted, gooey cheese, nestled between layers of toasted golden bread.

roasted chicken salad

 

Can we play true confession? I'll go first if it makes you feel more comfortable. My many years of Catholic school have trained me well for this moment. You might want to sit down too. The next sentence might come as a bit of a schocker.

I hated meat as a kid.

I don't really know how or when it started. All I remember is what happened the day my parents found my stash in what was supposed to be the compartment on the underside of the table to store the "leaf"—you know those things that make the tables longer for company.

Well, my seat at the dinner table was at the opening of that little tunnel. It was a quite good place to hide the bits of chewed meat I didn't want to swallow when my parents weren't looking. Not a master plan, I know, but I was only about five years old, so cut me some slack.

I don't recall the minutes after they made their discovery, and perhaps it's better that way. Maybe I'll get hypnotized one day and beckon the memory from the recesses of my brain.

Or maybe I'll just skip to the part when I started actually enjoying food. I much prefer happy endings. For now I will choose to believe I knew what was forth coming decades later in An Omnivore's Dilemma, and had decided to wait until I could eat meat I felt good about.

Can you guess which one is me?

So, wondering why I decided to confess my dirty little food secret? Well, it all started when Shauna asked me to recall the first dish I ever cooked. It was likely a tie between pizza and stir-fry since those were my two early obsessions. Yet, I can't pinpoint the exact memory.

There was no eureka moment.

Until just two days ago, that is.

I was hungry, no starving. I was so busy, I kept putting off the inevitable act of eating because I thought I had no time. Then finally, noon rolled around and I felt sure I was experiencing the moment at which one might actually go blind with hunger.

Did someone say chicken? Yes—it was me, recalling that I had leftover roasted chicken in the fridge. I had also just canned some fresh pickles. And did I mention the mayo I made too? Those recipes will have to wait because that's not the point of this post today.

In a split second I felt as though I'd traveled through my life at warp speed. How was it possible that the same girl who hid meat under the table was suddenly excited about making chicken salad?

I found myself running like an excited kid when I realized the arugula in the backyard would be a  yummy peppery partner. In less than five minutes I had a gourmet-quality sandwich. Almost every ingredient was homemade or homegrown, except for the roll, and it was on hand in my very own pantry.

And that's when I realized I didn't just wake up one day and know how to cook or love to eat. It is a relationship that has blossomed over time. Throughout the years I have poured over cookbooks and taught myself techniques and read about ingredients. After years of eating, my memory is like a rolodex of taste memories and I can now digest flavor combinations in my mind long before the first bite hits my tastebuds.

I wasn't born with a silver whisk in my mouth—I just taught myself how to use one very well.

Just as children must learn to walk before they run, cooking is much the same. If you never step into the kitchen out of fear, you'll never be able to really discover the flavors in front of you. So maybe breadmaking isn't your thing. Find a great family-run bakery nearby and focus your energies on the meals you do enjoy preparing or use the time to discover new dishes you'd like to master. That's the beauty of cooking from scratch. You get to sit in the driver's seat and chart your own course, one bite at a time.

  

homemade pasta + 10-minute bolognese sauce

By now most of you know I'm a big supporter of local farmers' markets. It's where I do most of my shopping, including buying eggs, beef, chicken, pork and an assortment of in season fruit and vegetables. A couple of weeks ago, someone asked me on twitter how to know which produce was organic. It was a great question and one I hadn't really considered myself until a year ago.

Before the tomato blight hit us in the northeast last year, it never occurred to me that those small family farms would use anything but organic farming methods, even if they can't keep up with the paperwork or application fees required by the USDA to attain the official title of organic. Then I read an article about the blight. In it the owner of one of my favorite farm stands was quoted as saying he'd be using pesticides to treat his tomatoes.

asparagus & arugula panzanella

Asparagus is akin to childhood—its season is fleeting and by time you realize how good you had it, the moment has passed. I especially like asparagus because it's a sure sign the growing season is gearing up. After a winter of root vegetables, the first glimmers of green stalks are like seeing old friends again.

Since spying it at Maxwell's Farm Stand a few weeks ago, we've enjoyed creamy lemon asparagus risotto every week. Then last Thursday, I decided we needed to add a new recipe to the mix.

Somewhere between waking up and dinner time, I began thinking about panzanella. It might have been the leftover mozzarella cheese in the fridge. Or, maybe it was the stale bread on the counter. I don't really know how it happened, but along the way I got the idea to make an Italian bread salad, usually reserved for tomato season months down the road.

smashed brown potatoes + weekend brunch picks

Now that the Thanksgiving dishes are done, I have a few minutes to let you know my brunch picks for the weekend. The picture you're looking at above is my version of hash browns using leftover mashed potatoes. Next week I'll share my recipe for the best cranberry sauce ever. If you think the garnet-hued stuff is just for turkey day, this recipe will change your mind. I'm stocking up on cranberries and plan on canning some to give as holiday gifts this year.

Twice as Nice: Vegetable Fried Rice

Growing up in Brooklyn there were always two reliable takeout options: pizza and Chinese. While you can still get an awesome slice of pizza, some of the best, least expensive and most convenient pies come from my own kitchen. The same now holds true for Chinese food.

True, Chinatown is mere minutes away by subway, but it's too busy and the frenzy rattles my nerves. Not to mention schlepping with two kids is not my idea of a fun night out. Instead of settling for a mediocre meal in the neighborhood, I've started building my own collection of Asian recipes. Some are from other bloggers and authors (I was lucky enough to get a sneak peak at the new Steamy Kitchen Cookbook by Jaden Hair—and boy are you all in for a treat). Another book I enjoyed recently is Chop, Sizzle and Stir: Easy Recipes for Fabulous Stir-fries by Nadia Arumuga. I tested some recipes for the October issue of Working Mother magazine, and especially loved the Beef with Butternut Squash and Szechuan Pepper.

Then, there are the are the recipes that come from what I have on hand. I always keep soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil and black bean sauce in the pantry for seasonings. My other secret weapon is rice—leftover rice specifically. The grains tend to hold their shape and absorb the flavors better the next day, so I always make extra to have on hand for later in the week.

Using a rice cooker comes in handy for a few reasons. One, you don't have to worry about anything boiling over. Most are coated so there's no sticking to the pot, either. And most importantly, they just plug into the wall, so you can measure ingredients, add, then push a button and get on with preparing the rest of the meal. Both Aroma Housewares and Panasonic sent me some models to test. The 3 cup, very compact, and inexpensive Panasonic did a kick-butt job, but the rice didn't stay hot for very long. Probably a good choice if you don't have kids and can actually eat your food the moment it's cooked. For volume cooking and rice that stays nice and hot a long while, I'd go with this Aroma model. It also has a setting for brown rice and a quick cook feature. The water reservoir is also a nice touch. 

Now, enough tech talk. The real reason I love fried rice is because it's a quick, easy meal. While most people think of it as a side dish, I'm happy to sit down with a bowl and call dinner done. It's got veggies, eggs and if you want to make it even more filling, then go ahead and add some chopped up roast pork or leftover rotisserie chicken. And while I consider a wok indispensable (it was the first piece of cookware I ever bought), you can also make this recipe in a large nonstick skillet.

 

 

Vegetable Fried Rice

Serves 6 to 8

1 Tablespoon canola oil, plus more as needed

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1 small onion, chopped

1 carrot, diced 1/4-inch

½ cup sliced baby bella mushrooms

¼ cup frozen peas

4 cups leftover white rice

4 teaspoons soy sauce

1 teaspoon oyster sauce

1 teaspoon sesame oil

Salt & freshly ground pepper, to taste

¼ cup sliced scallions

In a small bowl, whisk the soy sauce, oyster sauce and sesame oil together; set aside.

Heat 1 teaspoon of oil in a wok or deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions, carrots and mushrooms and saute until golden, about 5 minutes.  Add peas to wok and stir-fry for 1 minute. Push vegetables to outer sides of wok or skillet and heat another teaspoon of oil over medium-heat. Add egg and use a chopstick or fork to scramble.

Add rice and remaining oil, plus more if rice is still to sticky, and stir fry vigorously to mix well and break up any large clumps of rice. Pour reserved soy sauce mixture over rice and stir well to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Add scallions, toss well and serve while hot.

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