*I’m proud to partner with Watkins to bring you this story and recipe. It’s quite evident in my recipes that I’m a big fan of flavor and I rely on good, fresh organic spices and dried herbs. Watkins uses only USDA Certified Organic and Non-GMO Project Verified ingredients in its spices, spice blends, and herbs. You can find their products at Watkins1868.com and select stores nationwide.

As always, the words and photos are mine. I appreciate your support and the companies who graciously partner with me so I can continue to share my stories through the recipes that fill our table.

You may have heard of the popular street food recipe in Mexico called Elote. If not, it’s an incredible dish that starts with corn on the cob; grilled until blackened and smoky then slathered in a creamy and spicy sauce before being rolled in cheese then finished with fresh lime juice. It is now absolutely my preferred way of eating corn. Esquites is the same idea but minus the cob. Corn kernels are blackened (or the cobs are grilled then the kernels removed) and then mixed with mayonnaise, cheese, chili powder, cilantro leaves, ground cumin, adobo seasoning and lots of lime.

Because I’m a believer in “all things are better when wrapped in a tortilla” we’ve turned this classic Mexican corn dish into a taco. It’s paired with what is basically a chunky guacamole that is loaded with scallions and a touch of sour cream (or if you’re an Antoni fan you can use Greek yogurt).

This recipe is written to feed a crowd or to have plenty of leftovers. I also added slow simmered pinto beans to bulk up the tacos but you can add grilled fish, chicken, steak, or carnitas – the options are endless.

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Esquites Tacos

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Ingredients

Esquites

1/4 cup mayonnaise

1/2 cup crumbled Cotija or Parmesan cheese

2 tsp lime zest

1/4 cup lime juice

1/2 tsp salt1 tsp Watkins Organic Chili Powder

2 TBL butter

8 corn cobs, kernels removed (or about 24 ounces corn kernels – you can use frozen corn here too)

Instructions

In a medium size bowl stir together the mayonnaise, cheese, lime zest, juice, salt and chili powder. Feel free to add more chili powder if you want more heat.

Add the butter to a large skillet set over medium high heat. When the butter sizzles add the corn then let blacken. Give a quick stir after a couple of minutes then let sit again. Add a hefty pinch of salt then turn off the heat.

Stir the blackened corn into the creamy mayonnaise mixture.

Alternately you can grill the corn cobs then let cool and remove the kernels from the cob before stirring into the creamy sauce.

Creamy Avocado and Scallion Salsa

2 large avocados, peeled and diced

5 scallions, white and green parts thinly sliced

2 TBL sour cream

1/2 tsp Watkins Organic Ground Cumin

1/2 tsp Watkins Organic Adobo Seasoning Pinch salt

1 TBL fresh lime juice

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 TBL minced jalapeño (more or less depending on your spice preference)

1 TBL Watkins Organic Cilantro Leaves

In a medium size bowl stir together the avocado, scallions, cumin, adobo, salt, lime juice, garlic, jalapeño and dried cilantro. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired

Tacos

12 small flour or corn tortillas

Meat or beans (optional)

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco

Pickled jalapeños

Warm the tortillas then serve with meat or beans, esquites, salsa and whatever other toppings you prefer. I’ve listed my favorites.

I feel like celebrating. It’s been a year (give or take a day or so) since Let’s Stay In hit the bookstores and I’m feeling sentimental. This little book went out to the world with a bit of fanfare and then I just left it to do its thing. Hoping, praying and crossing my fingers that the recipes will find their way into your homes, around your table and perhaps even into the stories of your families. I’ve received so many incredible messages throughout the year that indicate that my prayers were answered.

Thank you for trusting me with your time, your resources and with those precious moments spent around the table. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude today as I reflect on the incredible gift it is to be able to share this work. Just like any job there are many moments where it feels just like work. That’s when I sit back, often head into the kitchen just to cook and revel in the goodness.

Words fail me so let’s just celebrate this little occasion with a warming, special yet delightfully simple dinner. It’s what I’ll be making tonight and I hope you join me. Connecting with you all over recipes really does bring an intimacy that is felt beyond the computer screen.

Thanks for all the support and for enjoying and sharing the work I do. It would not happen without you all.

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Oven Baked Risotto with Butternut Squash and Candied Rosemary Walnuts

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Yield 4-6 servings

As much as I love cooking the reality is most days don’t afford me the luxury of gingerly stirring a pot for an hour with a glass of Pinot in hand. But just because that’s my reality doesn’t mean I can’t have risotto on a regular basis. Enter oven-baked risotto. This no-stir method produces a creamy, satisfying result without all the stirring (don’t worry, you can still have the wine in hand while the oven does all the work). 

The process starts with a cold oven so that pesky preheating isn’t even an issue here. And if fall is a season or two away feel free to skip the squash and candied walnuts and go for say, roasted asparagus with peas. Or how about roasted corn and tomato laced with twangy goat cheese and a few wisps of basil? The adaptability here makes this dinner a perfect candidate for cleaning out your fridge.

Ingredients

4 tablespoons/ 60 g unsalted butter, divided

1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt, divided

1 large onion, diced about 3 cups/ 450 g 

2 teaspoons finely chopped rosemary leaves

1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded and diced, about 4 cups / 540 g 

1 1/4 cups/ 250 g arborio rice

4 cups/960 ml chicken or vegetable stock

1 cup/ 240 ml white wine, divided

1 cup/ 10 g finely grated Parmesan

1/2 cup/ 60 g crumbled gorgonzola (optional)

Instructions

Add 2 tablespoons butter to a large skillet. Stir in the onions and rosemary and sauté over medium heat until they just start to color, about 15 minutes. Add the butternut squash and 1/2 teaspoon sea salt then continue to cook for 5 minutes. In a 9×13 baking dish add the rice, stock, remaining 2 tablespoons butter, and 1 teaspoon sea salt then stir in the butternut squash mixture. Place the dish in the middle rack of your oven. Turn the oven to 400°F. Bake the rice for 30 minutes stirring about halfway through. The rice should still be ever so chewy. Remove the rice from the oven then stir in the remaining 1/2 cup white wine and the parmesan. Serve with the candied walnuts and gorgonzola crumbles, if using. Serve while warm.

*Leftovers? Breaded in Panko crumbs leftover risotto fries up beautifully in a skillet with just a bit of oil. Add an egg if the risotto is not wanting to hold together. 

Candied Rosemary Walnuts

1 cup/ 120 g walnuts

1/4 cup/ 50 g sugar

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary leaves

Flake salt

Add the walnuts, sugar, and rosemary leaves to a dry skillet set over medium high heat. Stir occasionally as the sugar melts and caramelizes. Don’t leave the pan as the walnuts and sugar can easily burn. As the sugar starts to melt stir continuously until completely melted and the walnuts have shifted in color. The sugar will start to smoke but continue to cook until deeply caramelized. Carefully dump the caramelized walnuts onto a plate, sprinkle with flake salt then let cool. 

Since the shop opened I’ve kept a running Google Doc of all of the menus we’ve served. I make a few notes so I can remember who was there, any memorable moments and things I want to adjust for the next time. As I was going through the growing doc I noticed several repeated recipes. This Garlic Confit toast has already been featured on three menus.  David Tanis’ Mushroom Ragout has been featured at two different dinners as has a simple dessert of spice roasted pears with salted maple caramel (simply reduce maple syrup to a caramel consistency then add salt), creme fraiche and brown butter toasted biscotti crumbs.

The most repeated dish so far has been some iteration of this salad. At this point in the season citrus – blood oranges in particular, are the one thing I will miss about winter. This salad balances sweetness from the citrus with the bitter, crisp leaves of the chicories. Always the heavy hand with the vinegar there is a slight pucker tamed by thinly sliced kumquat and candied pine nuts.

A soft, fragrant and unsuspecting crunch comes by way of fried rosemary. Fried herbs are an unusual delight and not terribly complicated. The hearty winter herbs do particularly well in a hot oil bath. I fry my herbs in a modest amount of olive oil. Heat the oil until the needle-like leaves sputter the instant they hit the pan. Once their frantic sizzling subsides you know they are ready as that alerts you to the fact that all the water in the leaves has evaporated so once cooled they will crisp up just as they should. While they’re still warm add a flurry of fine sea salt to the leaves. This same method works well for sage, thyme, parsley and probably others too. Those are the ones I’ve tried so far.

I hold a firm belief that even in Winter salads need not be boring and this recipe proves that point quite nicely.

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Citrus and Chicory Salad with Candied Pine Nuts and Fried Rosemary

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Ingredients

1/4 cup olive oil

2 rosemary sprigs, leaves removed

Sea salt

1/2 cup pine nuts

2 tablespoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds

6 cups chopped chicories (Belgian Endive, Endive, Treviso)

3 scallions, thinly sliced

1 recipe Blood Orange Vinaigrette (below)

3 blood oranges, segmented and roughly chopped

5 kumquats, thinly sliced

Flake salt

Blood Orange Vinaigrette

Makes 1/2 cup dressing

2 tablespoons chopped shallot

1 teaspoon honey

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons champagne (or other white wine) vinegar

2 tablespoons blood orange juice

1⁄4 cup / 60 ml extra-virgin olive oil

1⁄4 teaspoon sea salt

Instructions

To make the fried rosemary: In a small saucepan heat the olive oil over medium high heat. Carefully drop in the rosemary and fry until the color shifts and the sputtering ceases, this tells us that all the water in the leaves has evaporated and you will be left with a crispy leaf. Carefully remove the rosemary from the oil using a slotted spoon and transfer to a plate. Sprinkle with a pinch of sea salt.

In a small skillet set over medium heat add the pine nuts. Sauté until their color shifts and they start to smell toasty. Add the sugar and cumin and stir until well coated in the sugar and it starts to caramelize. Remove to a plate to cool.

Add the greens and scallions to a large bowl along with the salad dressing and half of the chopped blood oranges and kumquats. Toss well to combine.

Transfer about half of the salad to a platter then top with half of the pine nuts and rosemary. Add the remaining greens then cap with the rest of the rosemary, pine nuts and citrus. Finish with flake salt. Serve straight away.

For the blood orange vinaigrette:

In a medium bowl whisk together the shallot, mustard, honey, vinegar, and blood orange juice. Slowly drizzle in the olive oil while whisking. Add a pinch of salt and taste. Adjust to your liking.

Photo by Erin Schedler

Not Without Salt Shop. Seattle, WA. Photos by Gabe Rodriguez.

Our doors are finally open. You know how long I’ve been waiting to say that?!

The idea to create a shop open to the public for workshops, meals, and a few of my favorite things in and out of the kitchen came at the start of 2017. Like so many of you I was asking myself a lot of questions about life, work, and how am I helping to unite and move my community forward. From all of that soul digging I heard, “build a table and they will come”. Okay, it wasn’t exactly like that but that phrase and consequently that scene from Field of Dreams continually played in my mind throughout the entire process.

I dreamt about a space to work that was away from our home so that home could feel a bit more as such and I could have the ability to leave work at the door and focus on my family without being lured away by the computer in the other room. I longed for complete freedom of creativity in the kitchen. My career in food began in professional kitchens and I missed the ability to stand in the kitchen and watch the delight on the diner’s faces as the plates I just created hit their table. I missed the rush of service and the stretching of my creativity in the kitchen using techniques and ingredients that I don’t often share here for fear of limiting the audience. And I wanted a place to play host to authors, instructors, artists, creatives and whoever else is wanting to inspire and teach 14 people at my table. I wanted to continue to learn from others and be able to create an environment of learning.

Building this space felt like putting in the last piece of the puzzle. Every recipe I share, word that I write, and image that I take and share with you all here, on Instagram, Facebook – anywhere – is with one goal in mind: To encourage and inspire all of us to spend as much time at the table as possible. I never regret a minute spent at the table, in fact it’s at the table where relationships are built, memories are made, tears are shed, laughter is abundant, and food is shared.

In the early part of last year I started spiraling into a place of feeling as if my work didn’t matter. I talk about food a lot and in light of everything else in the world that just felt so trite until I really saw that yes, I talk about food but really that is simply the medium used to gather people. So it seemed fitting to take that purpose and make it more tangible by building out a homey space with a 12-foot table eager to seat anyone and everyone.

I do hope that someday all of you can stop by and sit at my table but until that time I won’t stop sharing the work I do here and elsewhere online.

There are so many people to thank for helping me turn this dream into a reality. KitchenAid heard my dream, saw the vision and helped make it happen. Their generosity gave me the chance to build out a kitchen that I would say was my dream kitchen, but honestly even the kitchen in my dreams isn’t this good. Every large and small appliance you see in this space is from them and I assure you this place would not be the same without their help. I have been a loyal fan of KitchenAid since my first mixer nearly fifteen years ago. I returned so many wedding gifts in order to be able to afford the one I truly wanted; a 5-quart stand mixer in Pistachio green. My kitchen has never been without one of their mixers since. And when you do come and sit at my bar while I’m making us something to eat, I will gush about my induction cooktop because I am a huge, huge fan.

Last week I hosted our first ticketed event in the shop. This meant that most the people coming to the table didn’t know one another before they sat down. Just before dessert came out I turned to Gabe, who was my server for the afternoon, and said, “That is my favorite sound in the whole world.” The volume had crept louder and louder until the music could no longer be heard. There were glasses being clinked, laughter extending the entire length of the table, business cards being shared and dates being planned for the next lunch at the shop. I’ve yet to have an event here where the sight of the table full of people doesn’t fill me with tears. A dream realized.

This Farro and Parmesan pie was the main course for that lunch and all the plates came back to the kitchen completely clean. In fact I am sharing the recipe here because I promised everyone at that table that I would. I saw the burnished crust of this pie on BonAppetit.com and immediately knew I needed to make that.

There are few ingredients so each must be treated with care. I’ve made a few changes from the original recipe in the form of lemon zest, garlic, thyme and Italian farro. When I first tasted Farro in Italy I thought they must have cooked it for days and days. It was tender, still delightfully nutty but it didn’t have the irksome chew that I find to be more laborious than what I want in a meal. And in actuality, Italian farro, or semi-perlato (semi-pearled) takes about 10 minutes from dry grain to tender. I’ve been able to purchase it online, at Whole Foods or at a local European import store. If you can’t find it, regular farro is completely fine.

*This post was created in partnership with KitchenAid. Thank you, as always, for supporting the brands that support the work I create.

Oven

Cooktop

Downdraft

Dishwasher

Print

Farro and Parmesan Pie

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Yield 8 – 10

Adapted from BonAppetit.com

Ingredients

Olive oil (for pan)

1 cup Italian farro, or semi-perlato farro (available at WholeFoods)

2 thyme sprigs

Sea salt

2 cups finely grated Parmesan, divided

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup whole milk

1 teaspoon sea salt

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

1 garlic clove, finely minced

Pinch of nutmeg

4 large eggs

Instructions

Grease a 9-inch springform pan with olive oil. Wrap the exterior in aluminum foil then place on a sheet tray. Preheat your oven to 350°F.

In a large saucepan add 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium-high heat. Stir in the farro and thyme. Sauté the farro until toasted, about 10 minutes. Carefully add water to cover, along with a couple of hefty pinches of sea salt then bring to a simmer and cook until the farro is tender, about 10 minutes. Drain the farro and set aside.

In a large bowl whisk together 1 3/4 cups of the Parmesan, cream, milk, sea salt, lemon zest, garlic, nutmeg and the eggs. Add the drained farro and pour the entire mixture into the prepared springform pan.

Bake for 40 minutes or until slightly puffed around the edges but the center has a bit of jiggle still in there.

Top the pie with the remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan, move it to the top of your oven and broil for 3 to 4 minutes or until deeply golden and bubbling.

Serve while just warm or room temperature.

The pie can be made the day before and gently reheated just before serving.

I think now is as good a time as any to make the formal announcement that I’m working on another cookbook! If you are a newsletter friend then this is old news (also, thank you for subscribing!) or you may have noticed a sly little hashtag on Instagram, #newcookbook, popping up in a few of my recent photos. I’ve sort of tiptoed around all of this for awhile but today it felt right to tell you all. While the fanfare may not be the same as the first time around, the excitement joy I feel is allllll the same. Perhaps even more so because I get it. I mean I know what’s coming and while part of that is terrifying (truly, like wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night scary) mostly I’m reveling in the creativity – waking up and going to sleep thinking about new recipes – and just so excited to share extremely practical, delicious, inventive recipes that will bring us all to the table.

This book is quite a departure from the first and yet totally not because they are both completely me. Date Night In was date food. I mean some menus took hours to prepare and the food was indulgent in the best sort of way – it needed to be, because again it’s date night! The food helped set the intention behind the evening. With this book though, my aim is for it to be stunningly practical. We’ll cover everything from Tuesday night dinners that take all of twenty minutes to prepare and utilize pantry staples, to our Christmas Eve Wellington with homemade quick puff and Winter Greens Gratin. There are recipes for those weekday mornings when you need to somehow make breakfast in-between showering and brewing coffee like Cocoa Coconut Date Shakes or Sesame Fried Eggs with Miso Aioli. And then for those mornings when you have time to preheat your oven and can make Oven Baked Pancakes with Maple Roasted Rhubarb.

Even though I’ve done this before I’m approaching this yet-to-be-named book quite differently. Date Night In started off with an 80 page proposal which served as my road map. This time it was as if the map was sketched by a 4 year old. But I love that about it – sure it’s caused some fretting in me (I can’t help it, I just fret a lot) but I’ve grown accustomed to this new process and embraced the fact that much of this book is simply coming from me spending time in my kitchen. I want to take you with me as I approach food from the perspective of having worked in professional kitchens but now am a home cook who has a passion to feed my family and friends food that evoke joy and beauty. The recipes don’t necessarily follow a certain diet trend and yet to me it’s health food because they are made with real ingredients with the intention of sharing or sparking a moment of gratitude in our otherwise frantic days.

This post is making all of this real. I mean the contract is signed it’s totally happening but it suddenly feels more real having shared the news on this space. After all this is the place that started it all. And even though the Internet is crowded and we are taking in information at rapid speed and most of us are probably feeling overwhelmed by all the noise, this place will always be my happy home on the world wide web. It’s here where I learned how to take photos of food and by making thousands of mistakes I learned how to write a recipe that you all could follow. It’s here where I discovered a love of writing and sharing my heart. This place, and you all, led me to writing Date Night In where I found that writing books is quite possibly the best work I could ever imagine. And here we are doing it again. It’s just all so damn good I don’t even know what else to say, except thank you. From every square inch of my being I want to thank you all for being here, supporting me, sending me the loveliest emails that so often encourage me in my moments of doubt and insecurity. You all are the absolute best and I can not wait to cook with you in the kitchen through this next book, whatever the name may be.

Now let’s talk about tacos for a minute. Asparagus Tacos: Two words found on the Taco Tuesday menu at Essex and the moment I saw them I knew two things – 1. I had to order these tacos and 2. They had to make them at home. My version uses asparagus that I roast with olive oil, salt, and whole cumin seeds. With a few staple ingredients we whip up a zippy, but not too much so, sauce and top it all with shaved radish, cilantro, lime and crumbled Queso Fresco. What I’ve since learned about these tacos is that they are much more pleasant to eat when you roughly chop the asparagus so that’s how I have written the recipe although the images were taken prior to that revelation. Since it is indeed spring asparagus makes perfect sense but I can imagine the taco craving being just as strong in the winter so in that case I think cauliflower roasted in the same way, or even broccoli or brussels sprouts would make a fine substitution.

With a mouthful of asparagus taco my friend said, “This better be in the book!” Yes, it will be in the book.

Print

Asparagus Taco

Prep 10 mins

Cook 20 mins

Total 30 mins

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Yield 4 – 6

Ingredients

1 bunch asparagus

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon cumin seeds

1/2 cup sour cream

1 tablespoon mayonnaise

1/4 cup finely minced pickled jalapeños

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

3 -4 radishes, thinly shaved

4 – 6 corn tortillas

1/2 cup cilantro leaves

lime wedges

Queso Fresco

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 425°F

Place the asparagus on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper (for easier cleanup).

Add the olive oil, salt, and cumin seeds to the asparagus. Toss to combine then lay out the asparagus in a single layer.

Roast until tender and frizzled in parts, about 20 minutes.

Once cool enough to handle roughly chop the asparagus.

To make the aioli combine the sour cream, mayonnaise, and pickled jalapeños with a pinch of salt.

Warm the tortillas either in the oven wrapped in aluminum foil or carefully over a low gas flame.

Add a tablespoon or so of the aioli to each tortilla, top with about 1/4 cup chopped asparagus. Sprinkle on cilantro leaves, a squeeze of lime, shaved radishes, and Queso fresco.

Courses Main

Taking a nudge from my friend Melissa (The Faux Martha) I plunged deep into my pantry and did a major overhaul. Some of my reasons for doing so now could quite possibly be resistance, a way of avoiding starting a big project but mostly I did it because it needed it. My biggest piece of advice for those looking to put good food on the table every night is to keep a well stocked pantry. Some people meal plan and that’s great, for them. It’s never worked for me. I love being inspired to cook what feels right and sounds delicious in that moment. So I keep the basics in the pantry and fresh produce in the fridge so that at any given moment I have dozens of dinner possibilities within reach.

Up until a couple days ago you couldn’t see the lentils from the beans as the shelves were filled with stale nuts and random bits still in their bulk bin packaging. Now I’ll take a few extra steps to walk by the pantry just to ogle at my momentous completed task. I pat myself heartily on the back as I take in the site of neatly arranged rows of Ball jars all lined up with their appropriate labels. Yes, there are even labels! I don’t even know myself anymore.

This pasta dish is made possible with a stocked pantry but don’t worry a label maker isn’t a necessity. Linguine and cauliflower are forever staples in our home and while ricotta and dill aren’t always on hand those are a quick grab from the store or can easily be substituted for another soft cheese such as feta or goat cheese. Now that I think about it a flurry of shaved Parmesan or Pecorino is not a bad alternative. If dill isn’t in your crisper mint or parsley would substitute nicely.

Pasta is not only an ever present staple in our pantry it’s also one of those meals where the response to the question “what’s for dinner?” is met with cheers instead of the more popular moans. This particular pasta accommodates an entire head of cauliflower and heaps of grassy dill so its merits abound while the comfort of twirling wide noodles around your fork and dipping into mounds of pillowy ricotta make said merit exist without much notice.

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Roasted Cauliflower Linguine with Ricotta and Dill

Prep 20 mins

Cook 45 mins

Total 1 hour, 5 mins

Author Ashley Rodriguez

Yield 4 servings

Cauliflower is a staple in our house. It’s one vegetable on a short list that will receive zero complaints from my often picky-eating children. Roasting is always my go to and here I don’t even bother coring or removing the leaves. It will spend so much time in the oven that even the tough core will submit to a sweet creaminess. The key here is to chop the cauliflower quite small to get more of those crispy charred bits.

Ingredients

1 head cauliflower, cut into small pieces

4 garlic cloves, roughly sliced

2 tablespoons olive oil

Sea salt

1 teaspoon chili flakes

8 ounces linguini

1 cup roughly chopped dill

Juice from 1 lemon

1 cup ricotta

Instructions

Preheat the oven 425°F

Add the cauliflower and garlic to a sheet tray (parchment lined for easier clean up). Drizzle the olive oil over top along with 1 teaspoon sea salt and the chili flakes. Stir that up a bit to combine.

Roast 30 – 45 minutes or until deeply caramelized stirring halfway through for even roasting.

Cook the pasta according the directions on the package.

Drain the pasta reserving 1 cup pasta water.

Combine the pasta with the roasted cauliflower, fresh dill and a hefty squeeze of lemon. Stir in some of the pasta water starting with 1/4 cup then adding more if it appears dry.

Add the pasta to a serving bowl then finish with several large dollops of ricotta, a drizzle of olive oil and sprinkling of salt, flake if you have it.

Courses Dinner

Gabe recently suggested we come up with some sort of rating system for our dinners. Not as a way of judging my successes and failures in the kitchen but rather to celebrate the rare times when everyone cleans their plate. Because it is just that; rare.

Each member of the family represents a star or point so if everyone liked the meal we could say it’s a five-star meal. Bonus points for healthy recipes because you know, it’s not too hard to please everyone with pizza – actually even that is a battle (unless it’s the White Pie with Bacon at Delancey – we all agree on our love for that pizza).

Five-star meals are few and far between in our family. Maybe yours too? This person over here doesn’t like onions (and just like that there goes about 90% of what I cook), over here we have the self-proclaimed picky eater who will painstakingly pick out anything green, and this one will not like it unless it’s candy coated or a bowl of rice and beans. Gabe, fortunately is easy to please or he just keeps quiet. Either way I’m okay with it. When he suggested said rating system it was after the surprising victory of a five-star meal with loads of extra bonus points for being extremely healthful (so much green stuff)!

I rarely let my one or two star scores keep me from cooking the food I want or feel my family needs but as I’m sure many of you can relate to, it is tiring cooking for a tough crowd. So we celebrate the meals that leave us all satisfied and I tuck away their cheers and kind words for the many other days when the answer  to “what’s for dinner?” is met with grimaces and tears.

Our most recent victory came from Tess Master’s latest book, The Perfect Blend. You guys, I’ll be honest, I am not one to get behind super “healthy” eating. I don’t jump on the new year’s resolution band wagon, I steer clear of paleo, and am never one to shy away from butter. My idea of healthful eating is consuming real food made from real ingredients and if sometimes a few Cool Ranch Doritos get in there – well, it’s not the end of the world. But I found myself folding down the corner of so many recipes in Tess’ book because they are unique, creative and frankly they just sound delicious.

I have never before been tempted to turn cauliflower into rice but the stunning image and long list of colorful ingredients in Tess’ Tricked-Up Tabouli convinced me. Because I’m terrible at following a recipe I didn’t do exactly as she said but I loved the result. I used what I had on hand and followed the idea and served the salad alongside chicken kofta meatballs with a feta and yogurt sauce (I’ll share that recipe soon). Okay and yes, I also made pita. Plates were clean. I knew the meatballs and the pita would be a winner but the salad received glowing praises as well.

The piles of herbs and mix of color and texture lured me in. She added hemp seeds but I didn’t have any on hand, I also think I quadrupled the amount of dill and definitely added the pickle. Next time I’ll throw in chickpeas even though Ivy claims those are her worst enemy bean. Hey, that’s fine, I’m happy with four stars.

Cauliflower Tabouli

From The Perfect Blend by Tess Masters

I’ve kept Tess’ original ingredients as written but as I mentioned I played around with the quantities of things a bit based on what I had in my kitchen (I also didn’t bother seeding the tomatoes or cucumber). I left out the hemp seeds, used less parsley, more dill and didn’t use the allspice.

From Tess: With cauliflower rice stepping in for cracked wheat, the classic Middle Eastern salad goes raw and grain-free. Loaded with hydrating, alkaline ingredients, this version is a cleansing superstar. Its aromatic elements—herbs, allspice, and lemon zest—enliven the sweet fruits and vegetables. The pickles come in with crunch, tanginess, and probiotics; the red pepper flakes stimulate digestion and help flush your system. For the most balanced flavor profile, consume the tabouli as soon as it’s dressed. If you’re not serving it right away, chill the salad and the dressing separately, and combine just when you’re ready to serve.

SERVES 6 TO 8;

DRESSING MAKES 3⁄4 CUP (180ML)

1⁄2 large head cauliflower, cut into florets

4 cups (200g) firmly packed finely chopped flat-leaf parsley (about 4 large bunches)

2 cups (340g) seeded and diced tomato

2 cups (300g) peeled, seeded, and diced English cucumber

1 cup (140g) ribbed, seeded, and diced red bell pepper

1 cup (80g) finely chopped green onion (white and green parts)

1⁄2 cup (75g) diced red onion, plus more to taste

1⁄2 cup (20g) firmly packed finely chopped mint

2 tablespoons finely chopped dill

1⁄2 cup (70g) shelled hemp seeds

1 teaspoon natural salt, plus more to taste

1⁄4 teaspoon freshly ground

black pepper, plus more to taste

dressing

1⁄3 cup (80ml) extra-virgin olive oil

1⁄4 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

6 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, plus more to taste

1 tablespoon minced garlic (about 3 cloves)

3⁄4 teaspoon ground allspice, plus more to taste

optional boosters

1 1⁄2 cups (270g) cooked chickpeas or 1 (15-ounce/425g) can chickpeas, rinsed and drained

1⁄2 cup (80g) diced dill pickle

1⁄8 teaspoon red pepper flakes, plus more to taste

Pulse the cauliflower in a food processor until finely minced. The cauliflower ‘rice’ will resemble couscous. You should have about 3 cups.

In a large bowl combine the cauliflower, parsley, tomato, cucumber, bell pepper, green onion, red onion, mint, dill, and hemp seeds. Add to that any boosters you’d like. I highly recommend the addition of pickle.

Tess suggests: To make the dressing, throw the olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, garlic, allspice, and the red pepper flake booster into your blender and blast on high for about 30 seconds, until the dressing is emulsified and the garlic has been completely pulverized. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss well to evenly combine. Add the salt and pepper and tweak the lemon juice, allspice, salt, and pepper to taste.

Instead of using the blender I drizzled the olive oil and lemon juice directly over the bowl of ingredients then simply tossed it all together. I forgot to add the garlic but next time will not make the same mistake. Add the salt and pepper then taste and adjust as needed.

Serve immediately for the best flavor. Leftovers will keep in the fridge but the vegetables will leach water so it’s best to eat it all right away.

A gaping void in the corner exists where the tree once stood while its soft scented needles still require vacuuming. I breathe in deep soaking in the quiet. The kids are back in school, the house is still, apart from Lily the pup, chewing on her squeaky toy. Two weeks ago we started a season filled with family, friends and oh so much food and I loved it, savored it, lived it and now the quiet feels foreign and so freaking good.

Before jumping back into work emails I open a newsletter from Brené Brown (http://www.courageworks.com/). In it she shares her new year’s questions that she asks herself every year.

1. What do I want more of in my life?
2. How do I let go of what’s no longer serving me?
3. What will make me feel more alive? More brave?
4. At the end of every day and at the end of every year, I need to know that I contributed more than I criticized. How have I contributed and what will that look like moving forward?

I put off work just a bit longer in order to spend time sitting with these questions. By the time I’ve worked my way through them I see the words laughter, joy, and simplicity repeat themselves. I write fear, insecurity and comparison where she asks what’s no longer serving me. At the end of it I write ‘Honor the simple joys’ on a blank sheet of paper. Not even knowing what it means I follow the nudging as these words float in like a breeze. They’ve not left me since and serve as a soft reminder to soak in our everydays and appreciate them for what they are, not what I think they need to be. Repeating them on a continuous loop in my mind I slow down. Hopefully I can keep this up.

I’m sharing these questions here in case you too need a bit of a push to think through this new year. It’s a great place to start. As is salad. At the end of all the festivities I made no resolutions for big changes in my diet but rather continued the commitment to listen to my body and feed it what it needs. Although I’m not sure it really needed the number of cocktails I enjoyed during the holidays. This salad was responding to my body’s cry for freshness.

This is the sort of salad where you could sit and eat an entire bowl and still feel real great about yourself. The dressing, simply tahini and pickled jalapeños blended together with a touch of salt and enough water to get it to the right consistency, is flavorful and as light as they come. Don’t shy away from the sprinkling of cumin seeds and if you’re okay with cheese I think a fresh salty feta would be a nice addition.

Winter Slaw with Tahini Jalapeño Dressing

1/4 head purple cabbage, cored and thinly sliced

1/2 napa cabbage, cored and thinly sliced

1 cup roughly chopped cilantro

3 scallions, white and green parts thinly sliced

1 carrot, peeled into strips

1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds

1 avocado, halved and sliced

1/3 - 1/2 cup toasted pepitas

1/4 cup tahini

1/8 cup pickled jalapeños, drained

1/4 cup water (more or less)

Pinch salt

In a large bowl combine the purple and napa cabbage along with the cilantro and scallions.

Blend together the tahini, pickled jalapeños, and salt in a blender or food processor. Add enough water to make a creamy dressing. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. Toss the greens with the dressing. Tip the salad onto a platter then top with the carrots and sliced avocado. Sprinkle the cumin seeds and pepitas over top.

I start making dinner around 5. The cupboards are bare, the fridge even more so but there’s enough. It becomes a game to me. I’ll pretend I’m on a game show where the contestants are presented with a bare fridge and told to cook. With a bit of time and ingenuity I wow the judges with a restaurant worthy dish prepared with few ingredients and a bit of pluck. I’m not on tv, I’m in my own kitchen and dinner must be made.

Digging deep into the pantry I brush pass the jars of rice and beans and the crumbled mess of random plastic bags holding odd bits of nuts and dried fruit. I reach for the cracked yellow lentils, a purchase I made months ago at an indian market. Tonight I’ll make dal. I don’t have all of the very few ingredients listed on the recipe but I make do substituting parsley for cilantro and red onion for yellow. I ignore the instruction to use ghee and grab butter instead.

While the yellow beans dance in the simmering water I busy myself elsewhere discarding the contents of several tupperware containers clearing out even more space in the desolate fridge. A turkey caracas becomes stock which I’ll later accidentally leave out overnight having been too resolute in finishing Stranger Things and subsequently too fearful to wander into the dark kitchen alone.

I slowly sip on a glass of wine while pressing and pulling soft balls of dough into flat rounds. They puff and expand on the griddle and soak in the buttery bath I lavish on them. The red onions temper and melt in the not-ghee with cumin seeds and a dried chile while I rewarm Saturday’s rice that I plucked from the fridge like buried treasure.

The food sits idly on the table while I wait not-so-patiently for the dinner time routine to commence. Hands must be washed and the table set. We all finally sit down and find plates in front of us but no utensils or water glasses. I scoff under my breath and wonder how many times have we done this and why is it still never done correctly? When will they learn and when did I become that mom who cares so deeply about missing water glasses.

Dinner has interrupted the kids playtime outside with the neighbors. They come inside still behaving as if they are outside with raised voices, thunderous applause and raucous cheering. I miss the quiet of the stove, the rhythmic stirring and the company of my wine glass. But we’re here now, at the table and the hour I’ve just spent in the kitchen culminates to this moment; the five of us around the table.

The kids happily eat the food and give me sweet praises for this simple meal. It helps that there is homemade bread to hug the dal and to motivate a second helping. They are kind but they are antsy and our conversation never moves beyond Gabe and I continually barking orders. “Sit down. Ask nicely for what you need. Legs off the table. Quick!! Go get something to clean that up! Yes, you may be excused.”

After many reminders the kids clear the table then scurry off to resume what they were doing before dinner interrupted them.

“Well that was completely unsatisfying.” I say to Gabe as we work together to clean the kitchen. I’m feeling completely dejected. It’s not just that I’m frustrated with the kids and their behavior but also with myself. That I wasn’t able to turn dinner into something more than a lesson in table manners. My slumped shoulders, rolling eyes and constant demands hung heavy on the table.

I want the table to be a place of refuge for all of us. A place we look forward to meeting. Where plates of warm food fuel us and the conversation and connection feeds us. I dream of gathering at the table when our three are adults, we’ll gather less often but the familiarity of the place makes us feel immediately comfortable and we fall into the same rhythm. I don’t want the table to be a place where they have to feel like they have to behave perfectly or act a certain way in order for mom to be pleased.

We come to the table broken, empty, imperfect, human and we are met there with grace, love and sustenance. The table is the place we revive ourselves so that we can exist in a world away from the table. It’s our fueling station, an anchor in a world that makes us feel like a boat ripped and pulled in towering waves. We crash and slam against the shore, our wood splinters, we’re thrown about but the table is the calm. At least that’s what I want it to be.

Of course at some point they must learn that legs aren’t meant to be on the table and conversations about certain body parts and actions those body parts are capable of should be saved for another time but I am determined to fight harder for connection over compliance and not let their imperfect actions keep us away from the table.

The table is worth fighting for. What happens there won’t ever be perfect as those of us who sit around it aren’t but it can be beautiful and powerful. As I get older I realize that life isn’t about a few momentous occasions such as weddings, the birth of our children or work successes but rather it’s the repeated small things that become traditions and rituals. Those are what we remember and strive to recreate when we’re needing an anchor to steady us. Those rituals become our comfort. The rest is ceremony.

Tara's Everyday Yellow Dal

Serves 4 to 6

We’ve since made this dish many many times in our house. It’s one of those rare recipes that everyone in the family applauds, it easy to throw together and even easier on the wallet - and this time of year that is such a bonus.

This recipe comes directly from my friend, Tara, and her stunning book, Seven Spoons. I’ve kept the recipe in her words because she writes so beautifully. Her entire book is a stunner - add it to your wish list if you don’t already have it.

As I mentioned in the post I made a few tweaks here and there based on what was available in my pantry (I used butter, red onion, and parsley) so you can trust that this recipe will serve you well even if it’s not followed perfectly.

For the dal:

1 cup (225 g) moong dal (split yellow lentils)

3 cups (710 ml) water

1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric

Medium-grain kosher salt

For the tarka:

2 tablespoons ghee or unsalted butter

1 teaspoon cumin seeds

1 small onion, minced

1 or 2 fresh or dried whole red chiles

Leaves picked from a small bunch of cilantro

Fresh lime wedges

To make the dal, in a medium heavy saucepan, cover the dal with water. Swish the lentils around with your hand, then drain the water through a fine-mesh sieve. Return any dal from the sieve to the saucepan and repeat, washing, agitating, and draining, until the water runs absolutely clear. It will probably take 7 to 10 changes of water. Pour the 3 cups (710 ml) of water into the pot to cover the lentils. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, skim any scum that rises to the surface, then lower the heat to maintain a simmer. Add the turmeric and cook until the dal is quite creamy, 45 to 60 minutes. Stir the dal regularly as it simmers or it can catch at the bottom of the pan and burn. If the dal starts to look dry before the lentils are cooked, add hot water (from the tap is fine). Season well with salt.

About 20 minutes before the dal is done, make the tarka. Melt the ghee over low heat. Fry the cumin seeds for maybe 1 minute, until sizzling and fragrant. Add the onion and chile and cook, stirring, until the onion is very soft and translucent, 15 minutes. When the dal is ready, tip the tarka over the dal, stir to partially combine, then sprinkle the cilantro on top. Serve right away with lime wedges and naan or over rice.

*This post is the second in our series with Chateau St. Jean Winery in Sonoma. Wine and date nights are like peanut butter and jelly; made for each other. So we’re bringing back Date Night In here on the blog with great recipes and wine pairings to make a date night at home something to celebrate.

Our first (and only) fondue pot was green. Looking back perhaps green may not have been the best choice as the cheese that filled its deep bowl took on its olive tone. I thought we needed it. We were newly married and I was just taking a deep dive into my love of food so a fondue pot seemed a necessary investment, both for its promise of romance and heaping amounts of cheese. Somehow I overlooked the fact that we had no money and never ate fondue.

We used it once. The bowl was so large it required pounds of cheese in order to stay molten for longer than five minutes. We never figured out how to keep the tea light from scorching the cheese at the bottom while the top required a knife to cut through. What was suppose to be a romantic meal ended up causing undue stress and lots of leftover cheese. The fondue pot lived in the back of the cupboard before it was moved to the garage and then finally donated to Goodwill along with everybody else’s fondue pots.

But I wasn’t giving up on the idea of sharing a meal of melted cheese with the man I love because nothing says romance like a meal eaten with your hands. Strange? Maybe. To me it feels comfortable and and yes even just a little bit sensual (sorry, kids). It’s a meal made for lingering, for slowly dipping roasted potatoes into melted cheese and cutting the richness with slices of crisp apple. For conversations that outlast the candles on the table and for the evenings when you need the date but don’t care to spend hours in the kitchen.

Two questions always come up when people ask me about my book, Date Night In. What’s your favorite meal in the book? I love them all, truly, but the fried chicken and black pepper biscuit sandwich with the bourbon butterscotch ice cream pie for dessert is probably one of my finest moments. What’s your favorite EASY date night meal? The answer is always fondue. In the book I write about Raclette – a Swiss mountain cheese that requires nothing more than a hot oven and few things for dipping. But when there’s a bit more time (I mean we’re only talking about ten minutes here) I turn to this Roasted Chanterelle Fondue.

There’s no need to dig into the depths of your cupboard or scour the shelves at Goodwill for a fondue pot – a hearty cast iron skillet or small sauté pan will work. You don’t even need fresh Chanterelles, although that is ideal, dried ones work beautifully or use another favorite mushroom.

I really do love spending hours in the kitchen, folding butter into delicate layers, tenderly whisking olive oil and egg yolks into creamy submission, and watching sugar transform from snow to straw to copper but I also love it when a few ingredients somehow, as if by magic, turn into something that, just for a moment, takes your breath away. I love knowing that I really had so little to do with it, you know? Then I can simply sit back and take it all in as the gift it is and enjoy the company of my date. Sure I’ll take credit as he nods in appreciation, I’ll even let him believe that I worked tirelessly in the kitchen so that he does all the dishes while I slowly finish my wine.

This dish is just how I always want my dates with my husband to feel – special but simple, comfortable yet romantic. Marriage isn’t always easy but dinner can be.

Chanterelle and Gruyere Fondue

Serves 2

Pair with Pinot Noir

6 ounces fresh chanterelles, cleaned and roughly chopped or 1 ounce dried chanterelles

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot

3/4 cup white wine

1/2 tablespoon cornstarch

1/2 pound/ 2 cups grated gruyere

For serving:

Sliced baguette

Roasted potatoes

Slice apple or pears

Cornichons

Dijon mustard

Chef 1: If you’re using dried chanterelles soak them in hot water for 10 minutes then drain.

Chef 2: Roughly chop the chanterelles.

Chef 1: In a medium saucepan sauté the shallots in olive oil until translucent, about 5 minutes over medium high heat. Add the chanterelles along with a hefty pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper.

Chef 2: In a medium bowl toss the grated gruyere with the cornstarch until evenly coated.

Chef 1: Turn down the heat and carefully add the white wine.

While Chef 1 stirs, Chef 2 slowly adds the cheese, waiting until it melts before adding the next addition.

Chef 1: Add the cheese to a fondue pot, or if that’s not available simply pour the cheese into an oven-safe bowl and rewarm as needed.

Chef 2: Pour two glasses of Pinot Noir.

Serve the fondue with baguette, roasted potatoes, apple and pear slices, cornichons, and dijon.

*We’re giving away a copy of Modern Potluck! Leave a comment to enter.

It seems were on a bit of a trend with last week’s post and this week’s: How to feed people without losing your mind.

In her new book, Modern Potluck, Kristin Donnelly writes, “Like most people who write cookbooks, my greatest wish is to bring people together around food in a way that’s as easy and fun as possible. The secret to doing this is to share the work with your guests. And, as it turns out, guests love it that way, too.”

Kristin, after having her first child, felt her social life slipping away as the thought of fancy dinner parties like the ones she wrote about in Food & Wine seemed out of the question, as did going out to restaurants. It was then she remembered the potlucks of her own childhood. “What a brilliant idea!” She writes. “I could focus my energy on making one dish and get a full meal in return, all the while hanging out with my friends or meeting my neighbors.”

I remember potlucks from my childhood too, like Kristin I adore the idea of them, but the food doesn’t appeal to me in the same way it did then. I once loved those miniature cocktail hot dogs simmered in a crock pot filled with grape jelly and ketchup. They don’t excite me in the same way today. There are no long-simmered grape jelly hot dogs in Modern Potluck, instead Kristin writes of Green Bean Salads with chiles and walnuts, Cornmeal-Crusted Oven-Fried chicken, Pumpkin Beer-and-Turkey Chili, and Caramelized Kimchi Corn Bread. Not the sort of potluck food I remember but exactly the sort of potluck food I want.

Her point is to gather and she’s giving us the easy-to-follow road map for how to do so.

*A winner has been selected and notified. Thanks so much to all of you who entered.

Of course you could always ditch the idea of a large gathering and simply make these recipes for your family. That’s exactly what I did with these Late-Summer Vegetable Enchiladas. It was the first time in awhile where dinner was more than a doctored up bean salad or something – anything – stuffed into a tortilla. And while we are a family of five and the appetites of my littles have grown right alongside them we still were able to enjoy leftovers for days. Potluck or not, the recipes inspire and are right in line with how I want to eat everyday.

To celebrate this stunning new book I would love to send a copy to one of you. Simply leave a comment below and I’ll choose a winner by next Friday, September 2. (HOW IS IT SEPTEMBER NEXT WEEK?!)

In the meantime go raid the garden or the market for all that zucchini and enjoy some enchiladas.

Late-Summer Vegetable Enchilada Pie

from Modern Potluck

Serves 8 to 16

For the sauce:

1 1/2 ounces dried Ancho Chiles (2 to 3)

1 cup boiling water

1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes

kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the filling and pie:

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, finely chopped (about 1 1/2 cups)

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 jalapeños, seeded and finely chopped

2 teaspoons mild curry powder

1 pound zucchini or other summer squash, cut into 1/4-inch pieces (about 4 cups)

2 medium ears of corn, kernels cut from the cobs (about 1 1/2 cups)

1 3/4 cups cooked black or pinto beans or 1 (15-ounce) can, drained

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped, plus more for garnish

12 (6 to 7-inch) corn tortillas

1 1/4 pound Monterey jack cheese, grated (5 to 6 cups)

Make the sauce: In a large, deep skillet, toast the anchos over medium-high heat, turning frequently, until fragrant, about 2 minutes. When they're cool enough to handle, stem the chiles and shake out the seeds, tipping the chiles if you have to. Transfer the chiles to a blender (or a cup that's heat-safe if your blender jar is not) and cover with the boiling water; let stand until softened and cooled. Add the tomatoes and blend until smooth. Season with salt and pepper.

Make the filling and assemble the pie: In the same skillet used to toast the anchos, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and jalapeños and cook until fragrant and softened, about 2 minutes. Add the curry powder and cook until fragrant, 1 minute. Add the zucchini and cook, stirring, until tender but not mushy, about 5 minutes. Add the corn and beans and cook, mashing the beans slightly, until hot and stir in the lime juice and 1/2 cup of the cilantro.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.

Spread a thin layer of sauce in the bottom of the pan (about 1/2 cup). Arrange one-third of the tortillas in the baking dish, tearing them in half as necessary to create an even layer. Spoon half of the filling over the tortillas and top with one-third of the cheese. Top the cheese with another layer of tortillas, followed by half of the remaining sauce, the rest of the filling, and another one-third of the cheese. Finally, layer more tortillas, followed by the remaining sauce and the remaining cheese.

Bake for about 30 minutes, until the filling is bubbling and the edges are starting to brown. Let cool for 10 minutes, and then serve.

A few things to note: I cut down on the amount of jalapeños from two to one as my children are quite spice averse. I also skipped the curry powder and added a bit of cumin a touch of chipotle powder instead. In place of jack cheese I used sharp cheddar as that's what I had on hand. The best recipes are adaptable - this one was perfect.

*This post was created in partnership with Mission Tortilla and their new Gluten Free Flour Tortillas. The words and recipe, as always, are mine. Our love of tortillas is completely and positively genuine. Perhaps even irrational at times.

Before I married Gabe I never thought of tortillas as an everyday staple but he comes from the home of the garbage burrito so I quickly learned that a house without tortillas is a house ill-prepared.

Garbage burritos were and quite frankly could still be Gabe’s dad’s answer to “Mom’s gone, what’s for dinner?” Anything goes in a garbage burrito where yesterday’s leftovers are rolled into a tortilla to become an entirely new dining experience. Roast beef, mashed potatoes and salad? A perfect candidate for a garbage burrito. Just don’t forget the gravy.

In our own home the kids know that when I’m gone there will be many tortillas consumed. Gabe has left the garbage burrito tradition as a memory of his childhood he’d perhaps just as soon forget and moved on to make his own “famous” quesadillas. The kids go crazy for them and recount to me in great budding food writer-esque descriptions of dad’s genius perfectly displayed in his quesadillas. First, you must start with the lard I rendered after a weekend pig butchery workshop. Then you add in cheese; cheddar for its meltability and a bit of Parmesan for a deep, nutty flavor. I believe also that it’s important to get a bit of cheese on the outside so that the tortilla itself has remnants of baked on cheese. Sliced up ham melts between the layers before the quesadilla is cut into perfect triangles.

Before Gabe’s grandmother passed I asked her to teach me how to make tortillas. Every day she would make them for her large family of five hungry children. She’d roll them thin and cook them in a pan with lard until they bubbled and expanded; light crisp on the outside and soft and feathery inside. I watched her roll them in a way that only hands that had made thousands in a lifetime could do. The tradition runs deep in this family.

I’ve come to love and appreciate the use of tortillas having now had them in our house for nearly 13 years. Sometimes I’ll make my own, most often I don’t but they are always there. I know that if I put it on a tortilla I get him every time.

This time around I crisp our tortillas in a pan with a bit of oil until charred in parts, deeply smoked and crisp with still a bit of chew. With the grill pan hot nearby I grill avocados to soften as their flesh remains too tight to be delicious but I am far too impatient to wait for them. Scallions grill nearby until deeply marked and soft. On the table I set out nearly a dozen small plates for people to top their own tostada as they see fit, although I have to remind the smallest member of our family not to forget to include a few vegetables. She falls hard for grilled avocado.

Before the night is over you’ll be devising all sorts of other plans for the charred scallion salsa. As I type this I’m thinking about my own “famous” quesadilla with a bit of gruyere and scallion salsa for good measure. As long as there are tortillas at the ready we’re set.

*This post is sponsored by Mission. We’re partial to the flour soft taco variety but if that’s not an option for you they’ve just created Gluten Free Flour tortillas. Find out where and when they are available around you! Also, head on over to Gluten Free Girl to check out her amazing recipe for a Gluten Free Salmon and Black Bean Taco Salad.

Grilled Avocado and Black Bean Tostada with Charred Scallion Salsa

Serves 4

1 bunch scallions, cleaned but roots left on

1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro

Zest and juice from half a lime

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon toasted cumin seeds

1/2 jalapeño, seeded and diced

Salt

3 tablespoons vegetable oil, lard, or other flavorless oil

4 Mission flour tortillas (substitute their new Gluten-Free flour tortillas if necessary)

2 avocados, halved and pit removed

1 can black beans

2 cups shredded purple cabbage

Lime

Cilantro

Cotija

Pickled Jalapeños

Radish

Hot sauce - if you’re like Gabe

Over a hot grill pan, or if weather permits, an actual grill, grill the scallions, roots and all, until the greens of their stalks brighten and deep char marks appear, about 5 to 7 minutes. Set aside to cool.

Once cool enough to handle roughly chop the scallions. The roots add a lovely flavor and a nice frizzled crunch to the salsa.

In a bowl combine the scallions, cilantro, zest and juice from half a lime, olive oil, cumin, and jalapeño. Start with a hefty pinch of salt then taste and adjust from there. It should taste bright and briny which is a lovely match with the creamy avocado..

Grill the avocados until deeply charred, about 5 minutes on a hot grill.

Turn off the grill and let the avocados linger there for a few minutes while you crisp the tortillas. Salt the flesh side of the avocados while they rest.

In a large skillet add half of the oil and crisp the tortillas until puffed and deeply golden even nearly blackened in parts. Add more oil as the pan gets dry. Set the tortillas on a plate until ready to serve. If you’d prefer you could skip the crisping and serve these as tacos instead. If that’s the case, simply warm the tortillas in the oven wrapped in a clean dish towel or aluminum foil to prevent them from drying out.

Drain and rinse the black beans and season with a bit of salt, lime, and olive oil.

Chop the cilantro, crumbled the cotija and slice a lime or two into wedges.

Assemble the tostadas by layering the black beans, cabbage, some sliced pieces of grilled avocado, cotija, pickled jalapeño, lime and the salsa on a plate. Serve with thinly sliced radish.

Birthday season in our house comes on fast and furious, threatening to overwhelm as I teeter the line of wanting all three people in our house that celebrate a birthday in the span of one month to feel cherished and so loved without me losing my mind in the process. Gabe kicks off our birthday season and is the easiest out of the bunch to please. In fact the hardest part is getting him to answer me when I ask, “What do YOU want for your birthday?” He’s not one to think about himself for too long – one of the many things I love and admire about him. But he deserves the day to feel completely spoiled.

So with three days until the actual birthday (I’m not much of a pre-planner), with the helpful nudging of a friend (who is an amazing planner), we decided an informal gathering of a few friends to celebrate. Just the thing Gabe loves. The table was scattered with multiple bowls of chips in assorted varieties, and a warm cheese dip to accompany them. Our bar cart became a free for all for our friends to tap into their creativity to develop a cocktail recipe on the spot. There was also a heaping bowl of tangy dressed greens, garlic and miso bread knots, homemade cool ranch flavored party mix and pizza – not made by me but delivered in a beat up sedan to my front door.

Remember the part about me not losing my mind in the process? That’s where pizza delivery came in. As much as I resisted this notion and was a bit horrified to be serving cardboard scented pizza to Brandon and Molly (you know, the ones who own Delancey which is basically, in my completely not humble opinion, the best pizza created – the White Pie with bacon has my forever devotion), I succumbed to the ease.

In that simple yet hard (for me) act of taking one of the many to-dos off my plate for that day the roof didn’t cave in, I didn’t lose all my food credibility, and no one died. Sure it wasn’t the greatest pizza we’ve ever had but it fed our friends. And it helped me simply be in the moment to celebrate my husband, enjoy our friends and bring them around the table.

Sometimes when we come to the table there’s a feast of tagliatelle cooked until a bit of bite remains. It’s tangled with sausage and onions and capped with fragrant truffle salt. Next to that a zippy chickpea and wild pea salad with bitter radicchio and cherry tomatoes that pop when you bite. To the right of that bowl there’s pork tenderloin bathed in a white wine prune sauce and a towering cream-filled cake for dessert. Then there are times when we come to the table with cheese dip and pizza delivered by a college student hoping for a hefty tip. The important thing is to come to the table, fill the chairs, and savor the company.

This Kimchi Cheese Dip is a promise I made to you all several weeks ago. It’s the same recipe I developed live on our Facebook feed while Gabe and I showed you a couple of our favorite cocktails. It’s also the same dip from Gabe’s party and from the other day when I needed it just because. It’s nacho cheese with a spicy, funky kick and it’s completely addictive. And it’s a great excuse to gather at the table.

*This post is brought you by Me+My. I realize it’s a tricky thing to come and talk to you about such a delicious thing as Kimchi cheese dip and then mention digestive issues but the reality is many people experience some kind of digestive problem, which may be triggered by an enzyme deficiency caused by a combination of age, diet and lifestyle. Me+My and I believe that eating is one of life’s greatest pleasures and that in moderation we should be able to enjoy all the foods we love. Which is why sometimes there’s a place for an all-natural enzyme supplement that provides fast-acting relief while helping to break down food – like say when one eats far too much cheese dip. I mean hypothetically speaking.

Me+My would love for you to try Digest Results™ or Gluten Assist™ for 30 consecutive days and experience the confidence that comes with enjoying the foods you love without digestive discomfort. Pick up Me+My at your local Walmart or visit Trustygut.com for more information. You can also join the conversation on social media with hashtag #TrustYourGut to inspire others to take the 30-DayChallenge.

Thanks so much for supporting the businesses that help support this site. As always the words, recipe, and photos are mine.

Warm Kimchi Cheese Dip

Serves a crowd

Tuck into this dip with crispy bread, crackers or chips. Or slather it on bread for a blow-your- mind grilled cheese or use it on your next pan of nachos.

1 pound grated sharp cheddar

8 ounces cream cheese

2 cups (from a 14 ounce jar) roughly chopped kimchi

2 tablespoons Gochujang (Korean red chile paste) (available at most Asian markets)

2 scallions, thinly sliced

In a large skillet (preferably cast iron or I imagine non-stick would be great here too) add the cheese and melt over medium low heat. Stir often to prevent the cheese from burning.

Stir in the cream cheese until it’s just melted. Add the kimchi and Gochujang then stir well until the dip is completely melted.

Top with scallions and serve while warm. It’s still delicious room temperature but you can also rewarm it as it cools.

In light of Mother’s day – or because we’re both moms and we like to talk about motherhood, work, balance, and life – my friend Jess (from Sweet Amandine and author of, Stir: My Broken Brain and the Meals That Brought Me Home) and I had a lengthy conversation about becoming mothers and what all of that really means. We talk about our initial desire for motherhood, the striving for balance (and subsequent giving up on the idea) and we attempt to remind ourselves about what we are doing right in parenting rather than parading our failings.

I adore Jess’ perspective on life and motherhood. Talking with her I’m reminded that each day is a gift; one to be treasured and enjoyed. I so enjoyed talking with Jess and I hope you like reading through our (edited) conversation.

Jess and I are thrilled to be teaming up to offer a special Mother’s Day package that includes a signed copy of her book and a NWS Chocolate Chip Cookie mix, beautifully packaged.

Join the conversation in the comment section for a chance to win a package or check out the Not Without Salt Shop to order one for yourself or a special mother in your life. I’ll randomly select a winner on Monday, May 2nd – which also happens to be the last day for placing your order if you hope to receive it in time for Mother’s day. 

We have a limited number of these pretty packages so be sure to get your order in!

Jess: I remember when we first met, at the home of a mutual friend. I was there with my 1.5-year-old and was still figuring out how to parent while socializing with other adults. Meanwhile, there you were with your THREE awesome kids, seemingly totally at ease. Also, you brought homemade peanut butter cups! I remember thinking, this woman is such a natural, obvious mother. Did you always know you wanted to be a mom?

Ashley: Yes, I did always know I wanted to have children. I have vivid memories of seeing pregnant women on TV or women with newborns and I’d think, “I want to experience that.” This may sound a bit morbid but as a young child I was fearful of dying and I’d think to myself, “as long as I live long enough to have children I’ll be okay.”

Jess: That is such a powerful feeling you describe.

Ashley: Well, the other thing is that I was surrounded by women having children. I grew up going to church and all of the women in my life had children so by default, I guess, I just assumed that’s what we did.

Jess: That’s amazing to me, always wanting it.

Ashley: You didn’t?

Jess: Thoughts about whether or not I wanted to be a parent just weren’t on my radar for a long time. Certainly not when I was a kid, though I did have strong ideas about what I wanted to happen in my life: I wanted to move to New York City. I wanted to go to college. I wanted to work hard at something, and get really good at whatever it was.

Ashley: So was it when you and Eli were dating that you started thinking about having children?

Jess: [laughing] It was when Eli and I were dating that I started thinking about marriage! My parents separated when I was seven – maybe that’s why, before I fell in love with Eli, I never thought that I absolutely would, or should, get married and have kids. How old were you when you married Gabe?

Ashley: Oh man. We were babies. Gabe and I met when I was 18 and he was 19. We got married when I was 21. Our first baby came three years after that. A total surprise. I was having health concerns that I thought would prevent me from having children, or would require me to undergo medical intervention in order to become pregnant.

Jess: So when you found out you were pregnant, you must have been thrilled.

Ashley: Thrilled and terrified. We had just bought a convertible in L.A. because I had said that when I became pastry sous chef, we would celebrate with a car we really couldn’t afford. (We were young!) Two weeks after we bought the car, I found out I was three months pregnant.

Jess: That’s amazing.

Ashley: We were so far away from where I thought we would be when we had kids but yes, at the same time, I was thrilled. Something changed in me when I held my positive pregnancy test. Suddenly it wasn’t just me asking myself “what do you want for breakfast today?” It was “what is the best choice for the baby?” The moment I found out there was a baby in my belly, I felt like a mom. Did you feel that?

Jess: [laughing] Oh no, no, no… I mean, for me, all of this is wrapped up in the crazy health thing that happened to me.

Ashley: Yes, of course.

Jess: I was 28. Eli and I had been married for not-yet three years. I went for a run one morning, and an aneurysm ruptured in my brain. We had just decided we were ready to be parents. I’d been off the pill for two weeks.

Ashley: Oh my goodness, I hadn’t realized the timing of it all.

Jess: It was nuts, because for so long I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a mom. Then that summer, Eli and I realized we were at a place in our lives and our relationship where we felt absolutely ready. And then… ka-pow! For a while, we were told that it might not be safe for me to be pregnant. Then, at the follow-up scan months later, we learned that the tiny bit of aneurysm that remained after the surgery was gone, and I’d one day be strong enough to carry and deliver a child. Anyway, my feelings during pregnancy were less about motherhood, and more about my body proving its strength. I thought: I can’t believe I get to do this. I’m not even supposed to BE here. (I actually still think that all the time.)

Ashley: So when did you feel like a mom?

Jess: I think my identity as a mother emerged alongside the slow but steady rebuilding of confidence that I am healthy, strong, and here for my children. I associate being a parent with being invincible, or at least seeming so to your children. Not in a let’s-set-impossible-standards-for-ourselves kind of way. Just, how thinking that your mom’s a superhero is a beautiful part of a young child’s love. That feeling a child has, like: “You are my world!”  The illness and near-death in my past made me worry that I might not be able to be that for my kids. I have two little girls now, as you know, ages 4 and 2. My new identity crept up on me. I’m not sure when. But now I definitely feel like a mom.

Ashley: Are there any preconceived notions about yourself or being a mother that have flown out the window since you’ve had your girls?

Jess: You know, the way I work definitely shifted post-kids in ways I didn’t think were possible. Before I had kids, my best working hours were early in the morning. I’d wake up at 5am and go straight to my desk and work for a couple of hours, then crawl back into bed for a bit with Eli, who would be just beginning to stir. That sounds like such a luxury! Now I spend those early morning hours either with my kids, or trying to sleep a bit after a night of nursing and musical beds. When I became a mom, I realized that I had to dispense with the idea of a “best” time to get work done. I had to learn to work whenever I had the chance. In terms of motherhood, hmmm… I didn’t picture my life with kids much before they actually came along, so I didn’t have many preconceived notions. But I can tell you one thing: I love being a mother so much more than I thought I would. What about you?

Ashley: I think I had this naive, “I got this!” attitude at first. Wooooosh. That went out the window quickly. And I’m glad it did, because that has taught me how to ask for help, set up my community, my village, to humble myself in front of my children and say, “I don’t always got this, but I’m going to do the best I can and we’re going to be alright.”

Jess: That’s so wise, Ashley.

Ashley: Well, I can’t do it all. That’s hard to admit. The longer I live the easier it becomes, though. For that I’m grateful. It’s good for my kids to see that I can’t do it all and to hear me admit it, so that they can be easier on themselves down the line.  You do the best you can where you are, continually reevaluate where you’re putting your energy, adjust, and try your best again.

Jess: I’m always so curious to hear how other women do it. Literally, what it looks like on the ground. I remember talking to you when we were both knee-deep in the process of writing our books. You had an incredibly tight deadline. The entire manuscript -recipes, photographs, all of it- was due in something like six months, is that right? And you did it! How?! What did a day in the life of Ashley look like then?

Ashley: I had eight months. It was tight but totally doable because one, I have an amazingly supportive husband and two, I had a dear friend who helped immensely with the organization of it all. The boys were in school at the time and Ivy was in preschool. I would take the morning work shift and work until it was time to pick up Ivy. I think some of the days I worked all day while Gabe was with the kids. I divided the book project into three different tracks – the recipes, the photos, the words. It felt like three separate projects that eventually morphed into one. Our little family knew that this was a big deal for Mom. We worked out our family schedule so that my writing the book and doing the very best I could was top priority. My days weren’t necessarily balanced – which is an elusive rainbow-colored unicorn of a creature that simply doesn’t exist. I gave up on daily balance and now look at my whole life as the thing in which I want to have some semblance of balance. That season was heavy on work, for me. Now we’re nearing the summer months and I’ll be more towards the mom role. It eventually balances out.

Jess: Yes! Eli and I take the long view of “balance,” too. We’re like, this is what we’re doing right now: starting a company, writing a book, taking care of young kids. It’s a lot, and we’re often tired, but we’re happy tired! And we know as the kids get older, it won’t always be this way. We’re rolling with it. I think that’s my version of “having it all:” having as much as I can at any given moment, knowing that the definition of “all” is always in flux, and feeling profoundly grateful.

Ashley: Ooo, I remember being in the throws of diapers, nap schedules, mid-day kids’ TV, constant food on the ground, and thinking, this is my life from here until eternity. You, with little ones, are really in the thick of it now. But it really is temporary.

Jess: That’s what I tell myself! What are your days like now that your kids are older?

Ashley: The kids are up by 6:45 am and then out the door by 8 am. I usually use the first hour to get my coffee, sometimes I exercise, but most often I journal, listen to something inspiring and just breathe. It’s very hard not to jump into email and get started, but I really try to start the day with a bit of calm. From there, every day is different. Sometimes I’m working on a recipe for the blog or a client. Other times I’m preparing for a cooking class. I try to offset the work time by getting together with a friend for coffee, and once a week I meet a friend who is teaching me French. That’s probably my first New Year’s resolution that has ever lasted until May! Evenings are for homework, family time, baseball practice, and downtime.

Jess: So you basically organize your work day around your children’s school schedule? Are all three in school full-time now?

Ashley: This is the first year that all three of my babies are in school and that really is amazing. I’m incredibly introverted so those six hours of quiet are so sweet.

Jess: Six hours alone in the house? Amazing…

Ashley: Yes! Even with all that time to work I had hoped that I’d be the cheery mom, eager to greet them when they arrived home from school. I’d open the door with a smile on my face, chocolate-smudged apron around my waist, and a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies in hand. I think I’ve maybe done that once. Nope, I’m lying. Never. They walk in the door to find me on my computer frantically trying to finish something, or in the midst of a huge pile of dishes from a shoot earlier in the day. They come home to my chaos, but my intention is always to close up shop and be there for them. It’s hard though, isn’t it? Especially when you are freelancing and you are the boss – I mean, to just turn it off?

Jess: It is hard. I think that’s one of the best things that has come out of making sure I have enough childcare: being able to feel okay about shutting down the work part of my brain when I’m with my kids so that I can be fully present.

Ashley: What does that look like for you?

Jess: Have I told you about my parenting life in the early days of writing my book? When I signed my book contract, I was still enrolled in my PhD program at Harvard, teaching undergrads, working on my dissertation. My first daughter was 9 months old. People – mostly other women! – would say to me, “You’re so lucky that your work has flexible hours. You can be a full-time graduate student AND a full-time writer AND a full-time mom!” I’d think to myself, oh, okay, I’m supposed to be able to do this. Why is this so hard? Why do I feel like I’m failing at everything? We had four hours a day of childcare, which felt like a lot, but of course, it’s ridiculous to think that I could teach, and write a book, and write a dissertation, and be a mom and, you know, clean the house, get groceries, pump my breasts, maybe shower sometimes… all in a 20-hour work week.

My husband had just left his company to found a start-up, so money was tight, and I felt guilty getting more childcare. But Eli helped me understand childcare as an investment in my professional future and in who we wanted to be for our children: people who are passionate about their work, who are making the things they want to see in the world. So I went on leave from my graduate program in order to focus on my manuscript, we increased our childcare to 30-ish hours per week, and though I still had to work late nights, I was in a much better place.

Ashley: So how do you care for yourself in the midst of all that — motherhood, work, and everything else that life throws at you?

Jess: I refill by spending time alone inside my brain. I know this sounds workaholic-y, but honestly, when I get a long stretch of time to write, and get to come out the other end having made something, I feel good as new. Guarding my writing time as best I can is probably the #1 thing I do to take care of myself. What about you?

Ashley: Because I have so much time during the day now I give myself the permission to do things that are not work and just for me. So for example, French lessons feel like something for me. It’s a personal goal and I’m choosing to spend my time working toward that goal. Also, I’m trying to build more time for painting and drawing into my day. It’s a creative outlet that, for now, comes with no expectations. I get to open my journal, put color to the page and then close it up. I have an incredibly supportive husband who is always encouraging me to build in the time to take care of myself. It feels much easier to do that now that my kidlets aren’t so little. It’s also a practice I want them to see me doing because yes, I want them to learn how to care for themselves.

Jess: I love the awareness you have of modeling for your children.

Ashley: I think we’re starting to have this culture within motherhood where we feel free to admit where we are failing. I think that’s important. I mean, it’s freeing to shout our “failings” from the internet rooftops, saying, “I fed my kids boxed mac & cheese!” or “I let my toddler eat cereal off the floor this morning!”

Jess: #nofilterparenting!

Ashley: Exactly.

Jess: We’ve talked about this before, and I remember your saying something smart: that by calling these things out as “failures,” we’re condemning our very humanness. Man, if feeding my kid powdered cheese is my biggest parenting “failure…” Sounds okay to me!

Ashley: The next evolution of motherhood I want to see is “admitting” to ourselves and each other what we do well.

Jess: Yes! How are we doing this motherhood business right?

Ashley: You first.

Jess: You know, I think I really came into my own as a parent when my kids started talking. Newly verbal toddlers get so frustrated and angry when they realize that they can communicate their desires, but don’t yet have the skills to be 100% effective! I think I’m really good at being present with my girls during meltdowns, helping them find their way out, and back to an emotional place where they can communicate.

Ashley: That’s amazing. It’s so inspiring to hear that. Okay, now it’s my turn, I guess. Why is it so much easier to talk about what I’ve done wrong? Recently I started journaling with each of my children. It’s a space for them to feel free to tell me about what’s going on. It’s a safe place for them to voice fear, concern, happy thoughts, sad thoughts, whatever they need. For me it’s a sweet point of connection and it’s something that is very personal to each of us.

Jess: And, uh, you also bake them awesome treats all the time!

Ashley: I do. And you do too!

Jess and I would LOVE to hear what you are doing right in motherhood. We both feel strongly about changing the message and celebrating one another for our strengths. We all know we can’t do it all but rather than wasting breath considering what we aren’t doing let’s spend a bit of time appreciating what we are. Believe me – this was the hardest question in our conversation. Jess had to repeatedly remind me to rid my mind and sentences of qualifiers. Then, when I answered I felt light, lifted and encouraged and when I heard Jess’ response I was eager to celebrate her in her strengths and inspired by her patience and gentleness towards her little ones. It’s freeing to admit we can’t do it all but it’s life giving to honor what we can and are doing.

What are you doing well today? How are you doing this motherhood business right? Answer in the comments! Let us all be encouraged by everyone’s strengths.

Jess and I are thrilled to be partnering together in creating what we think is quite possibly the perfect Mother’s Day gift: A signed copy of Stir and Salted Chocolate Chip Cookie Mix all bundled together in a tidy little package. Give it to your mom, or a dear mom friend, or hell, give it to yourself!

Chickpea Salad with Shaved Fennel and Herbs

Last week over on my Facebook page, Molly Wizenberg and I had a fun conversation on motherhood (it's a recurring theme around here) and how we feed our families. We both rely heavily on a can of beans. The day after our talk this was what I did with my can of beans. For dinner I served it alongside a platter of fresh vegetables, and sliced salami, a bit of cheese, and bread.

Serves 2 for lunch, or 4 as a side

1 small fennel bulb or half of a larger bulb

1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 cup roughly torn fresh herbs (mint, dill, parsley, chives, basil)

1 cup arugula

1/3 cup crumbled sharp cheddar

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt

1 teaspoon Nigella seeds (you could also use poppy seeds, toasted cumin, fennel, caraway or sesame)

Thinly slice or shave the fennel. A mandoline makes quick work of this.

In a medium bowl combine the chickpeas, shaved fennel, fresh herbs, arugula, cheddar lemon juice, olive oil, salt (start with a 1/2 teaspoon and go from there) and the Nigella seeds.

Stir everything together well then taste and adjust the seasonings

The book (Date Night In, for those who are fairly new around these parts) came out just over a year ago and it’s only now that I feel as if I have the perspective to speak clearly about the entire process. Enough time has passed that the emotions I wrapped around it with a tight, almost life arresting grip, have eased up enough to give me a view that is a bit more, well, rational I guess.

Before jumping into actually writing the book I had always planned on taking you all with me on the journey and then I started and I just poured all of me into the book. I was in too deep but now I have more clarity and still would love to share a bit about the process and how I experienced it.

Let’s start from the beginning.

The proposal

This part of the process took the longest but most of my time was spent wrestling with my own self-doubt. It was of course very exciting to be working on a document that could have the potential to launch one of my biggest life goals, I think you can also imagine the pressure that came with that. I’m not naturally a sales person and that is the task that is required when writing a book proposal. This is your chance to sell your concept and tell people why the world is lacking without this book. It’s a huge ask and for me that looked like 80 pages of photos, sample recipes, statistics, my career history, and book comparisons. (Check the resource section at the end of this post for more of an in depth understanding of what the book proposal is).

I started seriously working on the proposal when my babies were 5, 3, and 1. Setting aside the time I needed to write, think and plan for the book was not only difficult to manage as I constantly battled the maddening voice of my internal critic but it felt like a huge sacrifice for my family. One that left me feeling incredibly guilty. Looking back I’m disappointed that I wasted a moment of my time feeling guilty about working on the book, but I get it, I’m a woman and a mom – guilt comes far too easy.

My husband and biggest pom pom holding cheerleader was always the one to push me out of the lego cluttered and dirty diaper littered house to go write. But I still struggled with the hour here and there writing chunks. I mean it would literally take most of that time to silence the inner voice long enough to be brave enough to put pen to paper. I struggled with the “what if’s” with the biggest one being “what if nothing ever comes of all this work?”

It wasn’t until Gabe gifted me with two nights in a hotel room alone for my 30th birthday that I was able to finish. In that room I gave myself the permission, freedom and space to write and I got it done. I now ask for a hotel room alone for my birthday – book proposal or not.

If you are at this beginning stage in the book process or quite frankly starting any new project, do this: Put the pen to the paper. Silence any and all voices that tell you that you are wasting your time or that nothing will ever come from the work you are putting in at this stage. Just start. Create the time you need to put in the work and if that means putting yourself in a hotel room for two days then do it.

My good friend Tara recently wrote about the writing/creating process and she says “It will never be perfect—nothing ever is. Do it anyway.”. I love that. Don’t be paralyzed by the “not good enoughs” be satisfied in the “I’m doing it!”. The refining and fine tuning will come later. Although perfection will never come so just throw that concept out. Be your own biggest cheerleader and commend your bravery for simply doing it. The first step is the hardest but you will be so glad you took that step when you look back at yourself much further down the path.

The book.

(the writing/shooting/recipe development part)

I’m going to spare you the nitty gritty here but if you like that sort of thing and are interested in hearing about all the details I would be more than happy to share. Feel free to ask a question in the comments and/or I’ll set aside a space on my Facebook page for a nitty gritty book related conversation.

What I do want to say about this part of the process is that I loooooooved it. Like giddy, jump out of bed in the morning, can’t wipe the smile off my face loved it. I mean, I was working on something that I had desired for so long. All my life I’ve had a great respect for books and I was given the opportunity to add my very own to the pile. It felt surreal, magical, and big.

I have a terrible memory but this scene is forever embedded in my mind: I was sitting at my parent’s kitchen table – away from the distractions of my towering laundry pile and sink of dirty dishes. As I sat at the table, first draft recipes surrounding me and fingers pounding at the keys of my laptop when I heard/felt a whisper. It wasn’t audible but I sensed its truth deep in my bones. It said “Right now, this is exactly what you should be doing.” Tears splattered the ink on my paper while a feeling of peace, confidence and joy overwhelmed me.

Now, don’t be fooled – that confidence vanished almost as quickly as it came but I continually clung to that moment when the inevitable doubts crept in.

So many friends of mine paved the book writing path ahead of me. I overwhelmed them with questions which led me on my own path with very realistic expectations of what the process would be. In one word: hard. But please allow me to be a hopeful voice on this subject: I LOVED writing this book. It was incredibly hard but the sort of hard that pushes you to be better. At the end of it all I was a better writer, photographer, and recipe developer.

On a very personal level, with a signed book contract and people depending on me to do the work I finally took myself and my work seriously. I wish it hadn’t taken other people’s expectations of me to take my work seriously but that was what I needed. Now I no longer needed Gabe to push me out of the house to go write, I did it on my own. I felt free to pursue this project with my whole heart. Sure, the laundry suffered, the state of the house suffered, I made very rare appearances in my kid’s school rooms but I was and am a better person, wife, and mom when I am living out of freedom instead of guilt.

Trust yourself and the path you are on. If you have the desire to write a book let that be enough permission you need to do it. Honor the desire. If you are willing to struggle through the epic workload and time required to make a book than you are the perfect person for the task. Follow your curiosity and try it on. You never know where it will lead especially if you don’t follow its lead.

The most practical lesson I learned in this phase is to surround yourself with people who are good at the things you are not good at. The final book will be much better if you simply focus on your strengths, acknowledge your weaknesses and bring in help when needed. I loved the quiet moments of cooking, tweaking recipes and coming up with the menus but organizing the recipe testers, refining the recipes further and keeping me on schedule, that was all thanks to my my spreadsheet loving friend, Julie. She helped to break down the enormous task of creating a book into three parts; the writing, the photography and the recipes. Each of these parts had specific deadlines.

I kept our date nights sacred during the whole process, wanting to write about how those evenings changed our marriage from a place of genuine honesty. From there we worked seasonally, sending out recipes to the testers on a 6 week cycle. I photographed no more than two menus at a time so that I didn’t get too visually exhausted, keeping the images vibrant and fresh. It was also important to me that the light in the images matched the light of the season so that summer really felt like summer and winter, with its cool grays and blues, felt like winter.

Find a rhythm and routine that works for you or find the right person to help get you on that rhythm. It takes a village to raise a child and make a book. Find your village.

Releasing the book.

This is the part where I had to share my book. Time to release it from my tight grip and let you all see it; see me. This. This was the hardest part. This phase is why I’m a year post publication and am just now writing about it. This is where I began to understand when my friends warned me of the difficulty in writing a book. Some people love this part – the events, the stage, the signings, the press. I thought I would love it too but I made a terrible mistake somewhere in the process – I didn’t separate me from the book. The book was me and I was it. I wore every critique or failed press mention or empty seat at a signing as a personal failure. Don’t do this.

The first time I saw a copy of my book I shrieked in delight. We were right in the middle of filming the trailer for the book when my brother, coming in from grabbing a piece of camera equipment, nonchalantly handed me the book. He handed it to me the way a two year old passes off a spent candy wrapper then he stood back and laughed as I simultaneously started shaking, crying and laughing.

I will never forget that moment; what it felt like to hold a tangible object that represented three years of work. And more than that, it represented my marriage and my heart for encouraging others to pour into their relationships at the table.

It’s a rare moment in an artist’s life when you are fully and completely satisfied with your work. I wasn’t simply satisfied, I was thrilled, proud even. I’m learning now that that is enough.

I let every empty seat and less than wonderful review hit me like a punch in the gut failing to remember pleasing everyone is not only impossible, it’s not my job. While I was busy remarking on the failures of the book I was neglecting the fact that the first printing sold out before the book was even released or when the New York Times praised the book and most importantly to me, the amazing emails I received about successful meals and relationships healed. I was far too busy worrying if the book was enough – if I was enough.

Next time I will attempt to be a better cheerleader for myself; praising the success and quick to overlook the critics. I will work hard to create another book that I am proud of and release it without me wrapped up in it so tightly.

I will read this (and believe it) again and again:

“Recognizing that people’s reactions don’t belong to you is the only sane way to create. If people enjoy what you’ve created, terrific. If people ignore what you’ve created, too bad. If people misunderstand what you’ve created, don’t sweat it. And what if people absolutely hate what you’ve created? What if people attack you with savage vitriol, and insult your intelligence, and malign your motives, and drag your good name through the mud? Just smile sweetly and suggest – as politely as you possibly can – that they go make their own fucking art. Then stubbornly continue making yours.”

― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

I will be satisfied in the creation of the work, content to have created and let the work have the life it needs to live.

Make it and move on. Then do it again.

Doing it again.

At so many points in the process I felt like I was blindfolded, walking about a room stubbing my toes on the coffee table and bumping chairs in my path. I had no idea what was in front of me and couldn’t see the whole picture. Some of that brought blissful naivety and sometimes it made me overly cautious.

As I think about starting the process again it feels like a second pregnancy. Some of the excitement is lessened because I actually know how this whole thing will go down. When I was pregnant with my second and third I knew all gory details; how little sleep I’ll get, how many diapers I’ll be changing, how many fits I’ll have to attempt to calm. But with that also comes the reality of really knowing how quickly those sweet smelling and sausage-legged, snuggle bombs become tantrum throwing toddlers. I understand more deeply that the joy is in the process and the release is simply to let it go and live the life it was created to live.

It may not ever be a number one all time best seller but if we work hard to create something we are proud of I have confidence that it will find an audience. And even if it doesn’t let’s let the joy of the process and the fact that we created be enough. It is enough. You being you is enough.

_____

I do have a favor to ask of you as I finish this epic post. So I’m thinking about writing another book. This is scary, exciting, terrifying, and thrilling. But before I get too far into the process I would be so delighted to hear what you would like to see. I recognize that there are thousands and thousands of cookbooks already born so it can be a bit daunting to think about adding another one to the mix. All I know is that I have more to share, more to give and so much more to cook. But I would love to hear what you enjoy in a cookbook. Simple food? Celebration food? Both? Menus? Seasonal?

Ultimately the book will be what it needs to be from me but some input in this stage of the game feels right.

I hope you found this glimpse into my process helpful and again, please, let’s continue the conversation. Ask your questions. I’m happy to help.

Resources:

ME! I’m happy to answer any and all questions to the best of my ability. Leave a comment below, email me directly (ashley@notwithoutsalt.com – although this may take me a bit to respond), or head to my facebook or instagram pages to ask questions. I’m really excited to get a great discussion going.

Talk to your friends who have already walked this path. Have them share their proposal with you. I have found that cookbook authors are a generous bunch and are totally willing to share their journey.

101 Cookbooks: Writing A Book Proposal 

Will Write for Food: The Complete Guide to Writing Cookbooks, Blogs, Memoir, Recipes, and More This book and Dianne Jacob’s website is an amazing resource for those interested in writing a cookbook. She regularly interviews editors, agents and other cookbook authors. She is a kind, sincere and very honest person who paints a realistic picture of what the entire process looks like.

David Lebovitz is always so generous with his time and words. He’s an amazing resource.

Dianne Morgan has a great slideshow presentation from IFBC about the specifics of a book proposal.

Books on facing your fears and creating in spite of them:

Braised Lentils WITH Mushrooms AND Kale

The number one question I was asked while promoting the book, "What is your favorite recipe?" I get it. I always want to know the author's answer to that question too but the thing is every single time I couldn't think of one. Sometimes I would talk about the fried chicken and biscuit sandwich and the pretzel crusted ice cream pie with bourbon butterscotch and smokey chocolate covered pecans. Other times it was the Pozole or the cookies or the chilaquiles or the Flemish stew with frites or the Raclette date with hot chocolate so thick you may want a spoon!! Perhaps people thought my most common answer insincere: "I really love them all!" But it was the truth. My answer varied with the seasons, my mood and my cravings. Today I'm sharing another favorite from the book because the current weather demands it.

It's the sort of dish that is perfectly suited for date night or weeknight (as are many of the recipes in the book quite frankly). Lentils, mushrooms and kale lean towards the ever popular and necessary nutritional side while the cream and frilly edged, runny yolked egg remind us that a little comfort is needed along with the nutrition.

Before writing this book I had kept this recipe in my back pocket, keeping it off the pages of the blog so that one day I could tuck it into the pages of a book. And now we've come full circle because I want you to have it here and in the book. It's that good.

Recipe from Date Night In

SERVES 2

1⁄2 cup / 80 g dry French green lentils

3 cups / 710 ml low-sodium chicken or vegetable stock

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 small shallot, diced (1⁄4 cup / 40 g)

8 ounces / 230 g assorted mushrooms (such as cremini, porcini, and button), cleaned and diced

1 teaspoon kosher salt, divided

3 garlic cloves, minced

1⁄4 cup / 60 ml dry white wine

3⁄4 cup / 180 ml heavy whipping cream

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

2 eggs

1⁄2 bunch kale, stems removed and chopped into quarter-size pieces

Parmesan, for finishing (optional)

Rinse lentils thoroughly. Place the chicken stock in a medium pot with the lentils and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook, uncovered, for 25 to 30 minutes, until al dente. Drain, and if you’re making the lentils ahead of time, pour them out onto a baking sheet to cool quickly. This step can be done 1 to 2 days ahead, and the lentils can be stored, covered, in the refrigerator.

In a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the butter and brown it (see page 11). Then add the shallot and cook for 1 minute.

Add the mushrooms and 1⁄2 teaspoon salt in an even layer to cover the bottom of the pan. Cook the mushrooms until deeply caramelized, about 7 to 9 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Deglaze the pan with white wine, scraping up all the flavorful brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Reduce the wine until no liquid remains.

Decrease the heat to medium-low and add the cream. Bring to a simmer and reduce for 2 minutes, then add the cooked lentils and remaining 1⁄2 teaspoon salt. Cover the pan with a lid and simmer for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare your eggs. I like mine sunny-side up so the yolk helps to sauce the lentils. In a nonstick skillet over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon oil. When the pan is nice and hot, crack in the eggs and sprinkle with salt. Turn down the heat and cook for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the whites are set. The eggs will do some carryover cooking, so turn off the heat before you think they are done. Remove the eggs to a clean plate to wait while you finish the lentils.

Add the chopped kale to the lentils. Cover and cook until tender but still bright green, about 3 to 5 minutes.

Taste and add more salt, if desired. Divide lentils into two bowls and top each with an egg. Finish with freshly grated Parmesan, if desired.

*A winner has been selected and notified. Thanks so much for entering!!

I was recently asked to write up my thoughts on eating healthfully. Me, talk about health?! I ate ice cream last night and have a roll of cookie dough lounging in the the fridge because you never know when the urge might strike. And then I started thinking a little deeper, beyond my sugar cravings, and realized that I do have a lot to say on the subject.

First of all, I have no rules. There was a time when I put a lot of limits on the way I eat. You know what happened? All I could think about was food. All day long I would sit, hungry, dreaming about the food I told myself was off limits. I’m terrible with rules. Give me a rule and I’ll obsess over it. I thought about food day and night and yet never felt satisfied. I limited myself so much that it became my obsession. I counted calories, knew everything that was entering my mouth and planned my day around the few things I allowed myself to eat. When I broke a rule I felt terribly guilty and shameful. These rules took the joy out of food and nearly made it my enemy. I became my own enemy and was terribly unhappy.

With a diet of no rules I can think more clearly about eating that cookie. Do I really want it? Today, maybe yes. But I don’t sit around dreaming of the cookies I can’t have so I don’t crave them nearly as much. When I do enjoy them I savor it. Feeling good about it’s sweetness. I don’t fret over the calories. I enjoy the moment and move on.

I also listen to my body. I know that I feel much better when I eat meals laden with fresh produce. There’s no denying it. I feel strong, alert, energetic and healthy. I like that feeling. So when I’m not feeling those things I take it as a sign that I need more vegetables and good food. Those are the times when I pack the blender with fresh spinach and toss in an apple, carrot and lemon juice.

When you listen to your body you are also aware when it says, “I’m done.” There’s no need to keep eating when I’m full. Again, when there are no rules it’s much easier to avoid overeating because you have no reason for an unhealthy binge. You’re free to stop and look forward to the next meal when you’ll feel hungry again.

I practice radical moderation. What’s so radical about it? Sometimes even my moderation needs moderation. I’m a firm believer in Julia Child’s great quote, “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” There are vacations, and birthday parties and holidays which make healthy eating difficult. Enjoy the party then the next day recover with salad. I’m not talking about plainly dressed greens here. Salads are fun. See here, here and here. If salad isn’t your thing how about soup?

Just like everything else in life, it’s all about the little decisions. Do I really need to find the closest parking spot? Why don’t I take a few moments to walk around the block? Is that second latte the best idea? One cookie really is enough, mostly. These little decisions add up to big changes over the course of a few months, years and a lifetime. It’s not about big, radical changes that fall by the wayside before dinner is ready. It’s about a lifetime of little decisions that value yourself, your health and the health of your family.

People also ask how I teach my kids about health: I live a life following the advice I just gave you. My kids are watching. They see me choosing to walk to the store rather than drive, they see me happily enjoying a produce-packed smoothie and a colorful salad for dinner. They also see me enjoying a bowl of ice cream. I want my kids to see food for the gift it is. Not a burden or a set of rules that need to be governed. My desire is for them to respect food and to love their bodies well. I teach them by doing the same for myself.

This roasted cauliflower soup is the perfect reset meal. It’s for those times when I eat a pork sandwich for lunch and then another for dinner. It starts with a tray loaded with vegetables; leeks, celery and cauliflower. In the oven the vegetables soften on the inside and crisp and caramelize along its dimpled exterior. The original recipe comes from my friend, Aran. She made it for me once and I sat marveling at its richness with each bite. Richness, I often assume, comes from cream. Here, it’s coconut milk. She’s a brilliant one, that Aran. When she fed me that soup I had made her a jar of scallion kimchee and together they made magic.

The perfect texture you see there is from my new best friend, my Vitamix. And here’s the best part, one of you can get a new best friend too. I’m giving away one blender thanks to the Vitamix folks (U.S. and Canada). I had been thinking of the perfect way to treat myself to a Vitamix just before they contacted me and sent one my way. I’ve talked to so many people who say they use it everyday and don’t remember what they ever did without it. I’m now one of those people. I make quick work of smoothies, juices, dressings, soups, and healthful milkshakes (the kids had no idea it was healthy). I even made corn muffins that began with wheat berries and popcorn kernels before the grain grinder whipped them into a fluffy flour. I’m hooked. Just leave a comment below to enter. I’ll randomly select a winner Wednesday, March 12. A winner has been selected and contacted. Thanks so much for entering!!

Roasted Cauliflower with Scallion Kimchee

adapted from Small Plates and Sweet Treats: My Family's Journey to Gluten-Free Cooking, from the Creator of Cannelle et Vanille

1 medium head cauliflower,

1 large leek, white part cut in 1/2-inch slices

4 celery stalks, cut in 2-inch pieces

5 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 onion, diced

3 garlic cloves, sliced

1 russet potato, diced

1 tsp thyme leaves

pinch chili flake

4 cups chicken or vegetable stock

1 13.5 ounce can coconut milk

salt and pepper

Preheat your oven to 400° F.

Toss cauliflower, leeks, and celery with 3 tablespoons olive oil 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt and a few grinds of black pepper. Roast on a baking sheet for an hour or until vegetables are tender and there is a good deep color on many bits of the vegetables.

In a large pot add the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium high heat. When the oil shimmers add the onions and garlic then cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the roasted vegetables, potatoes, thyme, chile flakes, stock, coconut milk, and 1 teaspoon of kosher salt. Bring to a boil then reduce to the heat to medium low. Simmer for 10 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.

Carefully puree the soup in a blender. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Finish with a drizzle of olive oil and some chopped scallion kimchee (recipe below).

Quick Scallion Kimchee

Makes 2 cups

From One Good Dish by David Tanis

Besides this soup I’ve found that scallion kimchee is great on eggs and sandwiches and when blended with cream cheese it makes a pretty addicting spread.

4 bunches scallions

2 teaspoons salt

4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

1 tablespoon raw sugar or dark brown sugar

1 tablespoon grated ginger

¼ cup Korean red pepper flakes*

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

1 tablespoon fish sauce

1 tablespoon rice vinegar

*I used 1/2 tablespoon chile flakes, you can use more or less. The first time I made it I used 1 tablespoon - spicy, but good. The second time I used 1/2 so the kids could try it out.

Trim the scallions and cut into 3-inch lengths. Put them in a glass or ceramic bowl, sprinkle with the salt, and let stand for 10 minutes.

Mix together the garlic, sugar, ginger, red pepper flakes, sesame oil, sesame seeds, fish sauce, and rice vinegar. Add to the scallions and toss well to coat.

Lay a plate over the bowl and leave in a warm place (at least 70°F) for 24 hours. Or, for a stronger-tasting kimchee, let ripen for up to 72 hours. It will keep for a month, refrigerated.

Excerpted from One Good Dish by David Tanis (Artisan Books). Copyright © 2013. Photographs by Gentl & Hyers

It’s not out of life’s character to move quickly, to come and go while often leaving a path of destruction not unlike the upended houses and thrown cars that get in the way of a tornado. Right now emails are coming in faster than I can respond to, we’re signing my little girl (my baby!!) up for preschool, I’m tripping over clean clothes spilling out of the confines of the basket and the dishwasher is loaded and unloaded more times that I can count in a day.

“In our next house I think we need a bigger dishwasher.” Gabe said while unloading yet another round. We’re both trying to seek some sort of sense in a season that has us both gasping for air.

These things happen. I’ve seen seasons come and go numerous times, particularly while being a parent. Just when you think you have a schedule figured out – baby is sleeping through the night, we’re getting three healthy meals on the table a day and we’re able to rest at the end of day – then suddenly something shifts and the new schedule that we took great pride in is pointless. Then in struts a new season without warning.

In our house we’re experiencing some shifting, a new busy season, and it’s provoked many moments of Gabe and I sitting on the couch staring blankly at the google calendar trying to make sense of the week. Nothing about these changes are bad – it’s multiple birthdays that call for multiple parties, book writing, new job opportunities, the start of wedding season, travel – but it’s enough to fill up the moments in our day and have us needing to seek out our priorities that don’t always get a time slot on the calendar.

The to-do list was growing by the minute last week and the 50 unread emails in my inbox were taunting me with their bold type but I knew we needed dinner. The sort that has food setting on multiple platters along the table. The kind of dinner that we ask the kids to set the table, with napkins even. They may be paper but even so a folded paper napkin with a fork and knife resting next to its crease somehow elevates the meal beyond the harried throw something on a plate because the kids are hangry dinners. Those happen too. But this time I was seeking the sort of dinner where we sit around the table and linger until the conversation dwindles and even then Gabe and I stick around for awhile while the kids carry their plates, with much of dinner still on it, into the kitchen then run off to play.

It seemed such a simple thing, in fact it was. Dinner was little more than braised chicken thighs with a bright white bean salad speckled with fresh mint, salty feta and peas that burst with spring. But sitting down to dinner reminded me that in the midst of chaos and new seasons it is vital that we stick to the routines that bind us.

It’s for this reason that our date nights are scheduled. If they weren’t their absence would go unnoticed until Gabe and I realize that something isn’t right in our marriage. These weekly nights that breed connection are like our preventative medicine – as exercise builds a strong body better ready to fight when sickness comes – our marriage is the stronger for our weekly dating exercise over a sprightly cocktail and satisfying meal.

The same is true for family dinner. I don’t want to communicate to our kids that we only have a nice meal together when there’s time. No, we make the time for it. And while I know the reality is that some nights we just can’t all linger at the table together, it’s important for our family that it’s most nights.
As we sat around the table over dinner I remembered the days when I longed for family dinners around the table. Baron used to sit in a little seat with an attached tray on the floor in our kitchen as he mumbled his way through black beans and purees of all kinds. Then when he was finally able to sit at the table with us for dinner, Roman had his turn in the little chair. We’d just sit down to dinner when suddenly Roman would start to cry and moan and demand something other than the mashed banana I was feeding him. I would leave the table with Roman while Gabe and Baron enjoyed dinner.

“When will we ever be able to eat as a family?” I lamented longing for those idillic dinners that I so eagerly wanted with our growing family.

Then came Ivy and again our meal time was split between a preschooler eager to talk about his day, a potty training and not eager to sit still toddler and a baby who didn’t want to sit on the sidelines or sit (unless in someone’s arms) in general. During those days it felt like dinner would never happen around the table. We ate in shifts and in between messes.

And then it happened, really without me even noticing. Sometime last year we were all sitting around the table.

“How was your day?” I asked Baron excited to hear about his day at school while at the same time remembering how often I was asked that question at the dinner table.

His generic response was the same as mine often was, “good”. Soon the conversation expanded beyond one word answers and we’d have to remind the kids to actually eat their food in between sentences.

Even still our dinners rarely last longer than 10 minutes, are often met with moans from all the green stuff I’m serving and much of the time is spent cleaning up spilled milk and sticky fingers. But it’s happening. We’re around the table most nights creating the habit and building the ritual. If we don’t build that into our schedule, regardless of the season we’ll one day realize that our opportunities for those dinners have passed. How terribly cliche of me but I’ve come to realize a new cliche – the cliches are true (and now I shall not say that word again because I really don’t like it).

While the romantic in me doesn’t like the need for “scheduling” time together – whether it’s date night or family dinners – the practical side of me, albeit however small that part is, realizes that in order for these times of connection to happen they need to be scheduled. The importance of those times outweighs my disdain of scheduling.

White Bean Salad with Peas and Mint

serves 4 as a side

1 15 oz can or 1 1/2 cups white beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup peas (fresh or frozen)
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint
1 scallion, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon ground coriander
zest and juice from half a lemon
1/2 cup crumbled feta
olive oil
salt and pepper

Combine everything in a bowl. Add just enough olive oil to coat and season with salt and pepper, lots of pepper, to taste.
If you are making this ahead combine everything except the mint as fresh mint tends to wilt and turn black once cut. Stir in the mint just before serving.
I like this with a bit of bread for a light lunch or served alongside chicken as a main course. Makes a great, easy picnic side dish.

*This post was inspired by the new book from Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef, called Gluten-Free Girl Every Day. It’s simple weeknight cooking centered around the family and dinner together. The recipes are simple yet creative and enticing. I can not wait to try the zuchini noodles with pesto.

*Recently I did an interview with Saveur. Check it out their site. And while you’re clicking around hop over to Bon Appetit where I took their new grilling book for a spin. *Spoiler* I LOVED it.

Before we get any further I wanted to say a couple things. Over the last week or so I found myself sitting at the computer with the intention of responding to your comments from the last post and I couldn’t do it. Everything I tried to write seemed too trite and wasn’t able to capture how grateful, humbled and encouraged I am by your support. I’ll read all of those comments over and over throughout the process when I need a little boost. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

Also, and I can’t even believe that I get to write this, I was nominated for a Saveur award in the Best Cooking Blog category. I’m shocked, happy beyond belief and to be perfectly honest, would love to win. If you have a moment I’d LOVE if you could hop on over to their site and vote. There are so many great blogs in the running. I’m happy to have discovered a few new ones and to be among some great friends. Thanks, again.

_____________

In one of those fits of luck where things align too perfectly for it to be a mere coincidence I find myself listening to Dearie, (Julia Child’s biography) and I’m just at the point where she is deep into writing Mastering the Art of French Cooking while I’m at the beginning of my own recipe testing and development. Her kitchen is littered with stacks of chicken stock splattered pages and she is spending hours a day in the kitchen working tirelessly to get her recipes perfect. I can relate.

As far as things go with my book I feel as if I’m just starting to build momentum and the process seemed that so foreign and daunting just a couple weeks ago is starting to feel doable, possible and even more thrilling than I had anticipated. It’s the sort of thrill that makes my entire body scream in unison, “this is what you are meant to be doing.” In fact that’s exactly what I texted to Gabe while I sat in the quiet of my parent’s house working on some of the narrative for the book. For me it’s more common to say to myself, “What am I doing?!” So I relish that moment when all seems right. I’ve bottled up some of that goodness and am reserving it for when my most harsh critics – the voices in my head – are at their worst.

Let’s get back to Julia – this is what happens when I ramble write, I forget where I was going. Actually to be perfectly honest I’m not sure where I’m going but I do know that I wanted to write something about her process. To learn about others’ process is like peering in through their living room window and at the risk of sounding like some sort of creeper, I love that. I’m fascinated by the process and how others have worked out their own systems in order to create and live out their passion. I’ve learned so much by the vulnerability of others and their willingness to let me peer into the way in which they work and I feel like I’m sitting at Julia’s table watching her work while I’m listening to this 30 hour tome of her life.

She is fastidious, passionate and incredibly focused on creating the best possible recipes for the american home cook. It’s as if Julia sees herself as a missionary with the purpose of sharing the wonders of French food in a way that is approachable and exact. She’s thinking of her reader constantly while revising again and again her method for mayonnaise. When Julia made batch after batch of an oily beurre blanc nantais (a simple sauce of butter, shallots, wine, vinegar and salt and pepper) she set out on a reconnaissance mission to a favorite restaurant that had the sauce perfected. By the end of the evening Julia had charmed her way into the restaurant’s kitchen and watched the sauce being made while she took copious notes for the book.

Mastering the Art of French Cooking took years of hard work, hundreds of pounds of butter and an incredibly supportive husband. But in the end the book is not only highly functional but her passion made it a work of art. I’m humbled by her pursuit to create such a book and find myself in the kitchen with a cake close to perfection but not quite and ask myself, “what would Julia do?”

She’d do it again and so will I.

One can imagine that our need for vegetables is high while our counters are continually littered with cakes, cookies and the random batch of cinnamon rolls I decided to make Sunday afternoon. While it’s easy for me to be okay with variations of a salad for many meals, my children and husband aren’t. So creativity and wooing comes into play. When it comes to food it’s easy to woo with say, chocolate but cauliflower is another thing. That is until you serve a crisp – actually, practically charred, entire head of cauliflower. It’s grand and serves as a blank canvas for those of us who like to improvise and create recipes from little bits of the pantry here and there.

I served whole roasted cauliflower at my birthday dinner this year. I’ve been meaning to tell you more about that night so I’ll save the details except that I wanted those that I was feeding to feel lavished. So there was whole roasted cauliflower (also, homemade sausage and that ice cream cake I already told you about). For the birthday cauliflower there was a simple lemon vinaigrette with capers (fresh and fried) and parsley. This time around I went with sun-dried tomatoes then took it a bit further with feta and mint. Landing a plate on the table with an entire head of cauliflower, crisp, sweet and topped with a vibrant red crown of sun-dried tomato vinaigrette makes one quickly forget that it’s actually cauliflower. I mean until a few years ago I thought cauliflowers greatest achievement was being next to the ranch on a vegetable platter. This is no vegetable platter.

It should also be noted that this simple vinaigrette of only four ingredients is also great with eggs, stirred into pasta and combined with white beans, olive oil, chili flakes, garlic and the pureeing power of a food processor to make a very fine dip of sorts.

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Whole Roasted Cauliflower with Sun-dried Tomato Vinaigrette

1 whole cauliflower, leaves and tough core removed

Drizzle the cauliflower with a bit of olive oil and salt and place on a baking sheet. Roast in a 450 degree F oven for 1 - 1/2 hours until charred in parts and tender throughout. Pierce the cauliflower with a knife to check the tenderness.

Meanwhile prepare the vinaigrette.

Sun-Dried Tomato Vinaigrette

I've left my vinaigrette be less of a dressing and more of a condiment. If you want it a bit thinner and to dribble down the dimpled florets of the cauliflower just add a bit of water at the end.

1/4 cup sundried tomatoes (about 6 large halves)

1/4 cup olive oil

3 tablespoons lemon juice

salt

Combine everything and adjust the seasoning to your liking. If you want a thinner vinaigrette add a bit of water a tablespoon at a time until thinned.

The cauliflower is a wonderful and impressive side dish on its own with a generous supply of feta and fresh mint or you can serve it with a simple kale risotto as I did. The sun-dried tomato vinaigrette loves this risotto almost as much as cauliflower.

Kale Risotto

1 cup water

1 cups chicken stock

1 large onion, diced

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup white wine

1 cup arborio rice

1 bunch kale, roughly chopped in 1 inch ribbons

1/4 teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg

salt

In a small saucepan heat the water and chicken stock to a simmer. Continue to keep it warm while making the risotto. This speeds up the cooking time and makes the rice creamier in the end.

Saute the onions with butter in a medium saucepan over medium high heat. Add a large pinch (about 1/4 teaspoon) kosher salt to the onions to help them break down and soften. Cook until the onions are tender and cooked through and just starting to turn golden around the edges, about 5-7 minutes.

Add the rice and stir to coat with the butter and onions. Pour in the wine and stir until the wine has been absorbed.

Add 1/2 cup of the warm water and stock mixture. Stir the rice until the liquid is mostly absorbed. Continue this process until the rice is tender with just a faint bite to it, similar to al dente pasta.

Turn down the heat to low and stir in the kale allowing the residual heat to wilt the greens. Stir in the fresh ground nutmeg. Remove the risotto from the stove, taste and add more salt. I stir in cheese at this point also. If I’m serving this with the cauliflower I add a bit of feta now and then more just before serving. Parmesan, ricotta and/or goat cheese are all good options as well. Consider your cheese choice when salting the risotto.

Serve with:

1/2 cup crumbled feta

fresh mint

It is easy to overlook the meager Brussels sprouts for the more traditionally appealing pumpkin pie or mashed potatoes. Those are not difficult to win over fans – wrapped in a flaky crust, layered with spice, whipped with butter and cream – it’s no wonder those dishes get the fame. But today I’m here as an advocate for the tender sprout.

Last year I attempted to woo sprout followers with a dish of charred Brussels sprouts made sweet by an extended stay in a hot oven. Combined with creamy white beans and sharp pecorino it was an easy sell.

This year I’m going raw which may prove a more difficult challenge. But, for me this salad is perfect for the traditionally hefty Thanksgiving meal. Sitting next to a mound of mashed potatoes with a near lake of gravy this bright salad softens its neighbor’s richness. And while taking up prime real estate on your holiday plate you may possibly feel more entitled to a slightly larger piece of pie.

But more important than that this salad stands alone as a great dish. I’ve taught it in a class, made it for friends, told many about its sour, slightly sweet and fresh taste and have had it for lunch and dinner on many occasions. (Never for breakfast but now that I think about it with a fried egg it would make for a mighty way to start the day).

Frilly tendrils of sprouts soften under a tart vinaigrette while pungent red onions and pecorino add richness and the marks the bite as a memorable one. If you feel so inclined a few walnuts tossed in or maybe even toasted breadcrumbs would be a nice addition. But in its simplicity there is greatness.

Brussels Sprout Salad with Red Onion and Pecorino

Adapted from Food52

A microplane makes the shaving of these little vegetables a quick and simple task but I realize many are fearful of the ridiculously sharp blade of those machines. If that’s the case a sharp knife does the job well. The red onions spend some time soaking in the vinaigrette, softening their pungency and giving them a quick pickle (thanks for this tip, Rachel). The vinaigrette can be made several days in advance and the red onions can bathe in the dressing for a day in advance leaving only the combining of a few ingredients to be done right before dinner.

1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
Juice of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon whole grain mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 cups Brussels sprouts (use larger sprouts if possible)
1/2 cup finely grated pecorino romano
In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, honey, mustard and a pinch of salt and pepper. Whisk in the olive oil until the dressing is emulsified. Add the sliced onions and set aside.
Trim all of the brussels sprouts, cutting off any bruised outer leaves and slicing off a good portion of the hard root end. Using a mandoline, shave the sprouts one at a time. When you're done, use your fingers to gently separate the leaves so that the shredded sprouts resemble a very fine slaw.
Put the sprouts in a serving bowl and toss gently with the onions and the dressing. Fold in the pecorino, taste and adjust seasonings if necessary. Finish with a bit more pecorino on top then serve immediately.

First of all I need to thank you all for the incredible response from my last post. I have read every single comment and email and they have been like a breath of fresh air. I struggled to publish that post but you all have once again proven to be an incredible community that encourages and lifts us up. So thank you. I apologize for not responding to the emails and comments. It continues to be a bit of a difficult season for me and my family but I have seen so much amazing goodness come out of it already. We are covered in grace and are so thankful for your words and continued support.

________

Of course much can be said on the beauty of sharing a meal with dear family and friends as laughter mingles with the scents of soft spices drifting through the air. Where wine glasses clink over riveting conversation and dishes linger on the table far after the meal is done. There is also beauty in cooking for one.

Perhaps it is because for me this is a rare occasion – one to be celebrated and remembered. It is a time when my cravings and food adversities (of which there aren’t many) are the only ones to consider. It is a time when the pasta can be covered in little green flecks and I won’t hear the moanings from three little ones each one meticulously trying to pluck the herbs off their pasta.

My meals for one are simple and light, often composed of many small tastes and they are consumed in silence.

For another idea of what I like to eat while dining alone check out this cheese plate I created for Wisconsin Cheese. Also, check out CheeseCupid.com for a great tool on pairing cheese with drinks. Somehow I managed to include chocolate with my cheese. I may have a problem.

*Disclaimer – I was paid to produce the content for Wisconsin Cheese. Words and images are, as always, my own.

Simple Pasta with Fresh Herbs

This pasta is far too simple for a formal recipe so instead I’ll channel my inner Nigel Slater (I wish) and contain its ingredients and basic method in paragraph form.

First you’ll set a pot of water to boil with enough salt in it that one taste conjures up images of those horrid accidental times of ingesting a bit of sea water. If you didn’t grow up around the ocean - the water should taste salty. Cook enough spaghetti noodles for one. While the noodles boil mince a handful or two of fresh herbs. In this particular batch I used chives, mint, dill, thyme, parsley and purple basil. Whatever you have on hand will do nicely. Add to that a finely minced half of a garlic clove and about a teaspoon or so of finely grated lemon or lime zest. In total you want to have about two tablespoons of this herb mixture.

Toss that with the hot pasta. Over the top you can grate Pecorino or Parmesan or dot the pasta with a bit of Feta or Chevre. Or just leave it as is. On this particular day the sun was shining and the temperature outside didn’t seem quite fitting for a big bowl of hot pasta. So before I tossed the pasta with the herbs I cooled them off with cold water then tossed in the herbs and had a dish that resembled more of a pasta salad.

Warm or cool it is an incredibly simple dish that satisfies, particularly if eaten alone.