There’s a messy corner full of little shopping bags that need to be sorted out for wrapping and a basket containing odd baking ingredients–still unused–in the middle of the kitchen counter.
Thanksgiving is a bit like a wedding for many cooks. Something old, something new, something borrowed… Wait, is there something blue at Thanksgiving? Oh well. Lots of folks have to have their favorites. The thing it’s not Thanksgiving without, right? What is your “must have”? I hope it’s on your or someone else’s cooking list.
I really love, love what I have thought of as my best green bean dish, which is Lemon Green Beans. There’s little to it and I make this A LOT. It’s probably my most used “recipe” because people memorize it at my dinner table: “Cooked green beans stirred up with lots of salt, pepper, and grated lemon rind with a little crushed red pepper and olive oil.” Great summer snack, too. I just leave a bowl on the counter. Keeps me from raiding the chips. Sometimes. ALL ABOUT COOKING GREEN BEANS HERE.
Antipasti platter or, in Italian, un piatta di antipasti. A bit dear, but consummately satisfying for a special occasion.
Every year about this time, there’s a night when we have only wine, cheese, and fruit for dinner. We eat it in the cool basement on three trays–one for each and then the cheese platter between us on the third. An old movie plays on the tv. There’s not a salad or even a cooked vegetable and definitely not any sort of cooked meat. The wine is icy white or rosé. Sometimes even the grill feels too much to do or too hot to light.
It really truly is my sister Helen who loves green beans any shape, any form. (I keep saying this.) Crisp and salady or granny style with tiny new potatoes and lots of sliced onions with black pepper; she’ll eat them however you cook them. But the older I get, more I find myself grabbing a big bagful and running home to cook them. My very favorite prep might be my addictive lemon green beans; I make them for meals and for counter snacks:
|Out of sight, out of mind.|
The blog is on vacation.
So are the the puppies.
But until we all return, why don’t you make a 10-minute Salmon Supper I made for myself last night? I made enough for two meals, so I didn’t have to cook tonight. There are still enough green beans for my lunch tomorrow.
I write two very fun food blogs and I rarely blog the same recipe on both; today I am. On Dinner Place, I’ve been occasionally experimenting with recipes that are more photos than text. See what you think.
grilled salmon with balsamic-honey sauce and green beans vinaigrette serves 2-3
|Cook oiled and salt + peppered salmon (2-8oz portions Copper River Salmon here), skin-side up, over medium-high heat on a grill or skillet for 4 minutes. Turn and cook until firm, but still moist– another 2-4 minutes for 3/4″ thick fish. Remove and let rest 2 minutes. Thicker or larger fish will take a bit longer.|
|Meanwhile, cook clipped package of haricots verts in microwave @ full power 2-3 minutes.|
|Make vinaigrette for beans: Whisk together in a medium bowl 1T white wine vinegar with 1/4 t each salt, pepper, crushed red pepper, Dijon-style mustard. Then whisk in 2T olive oil, 1 T at a time until thickened or emulsified.|
|Pour the beans carefully (HOT) into bowl and toss w/ vinaigrette. Grate a bit of lemon zest on top. Taste and re-season if necessary.|
Make the sauce for the fish like this: In a small bowl, mix well together 2T balsamic vinegar and 2t honey with a good pinch of black pepper. Another sauce I like is fig jam mixed with balsamic vinegar– about 2T jam to 1T balsamic, with some crushed red pepper and a pinch of salt.
To serve: Place a piece of cooked fish on each plate and drizzle with the sauce. Add the green beans and serve hot.
Wrap well the second piece of fish (if not using) and store in frig; keeps one day. Store beans in the bowl, covered, and refrigerated. Use within 2-3 days.
Wine? I typically like Oregon Pinot Noir with salmon, but this prep calls for a bit bigger wine, so go with an Australian Shiraz or a California Cab.
two-dog kitchen and around the ‘hood
Tucker loves to watch the neighbors come to and from The Wine Thief and The Ale Jail. Gabby is more into, “Where’s the ball or what’s Mom doing?”
Below: my south garden. Summer in St. Paul!
|columbines like it here|
|my favorite color rose|
When I come back, I’ll be ready to get into the next group-blogging adventure:
Can’t wait to cook for you, but meantime read this article on summer cookbooks….
Sing a new song,
While food trends wax and wane (Remember cupcakes?), I never-ha!-fall into the kitschy traps other foodies do. I did make gingerbread cupcakes for Super Bowl a couple of years ago, but I would have done that anyway. And you aren’t reading about pork belly here, though I’ve nothing against it. But I fall off the wagon a bit about bacon. While I am definitely NOT a bacon fanatic (and it’s on menus in quite odd places), my husband definitely IS. But he has been a bacon fanatic since Eisenhower was president.
His favorite movie moment is in “Grumpier Old Men,”
Grandpa: What the… what the hell is this?
John: That’s lite beer.
Grandpa: Gee, I weigh ninety goddamn pounds, and you bring me this sloppin’ foam?
John: Ariel’s got me on a diet because the doc said my cholesterol’s a little too high.
Grandpa: Well let me tell you something now, Johnny. Last Thursday, I turned 95 years old. And I never exercised a day in my life. Every morning, I wake up, and I smoke a cigarette. And then I eat five strips of bacon. And for lunch, I eat a bacon sandwich. And for a midday snack?
Grandpa: Bacon! A whole damn plate! And I usually drink my dinner. Now according to all of them flat-belly experts, I should’ve took a dirt nap like thirty years ago. But each year comes and goes, and I’m still here. Ha! And they keep dyin’. You know? Sometimes I wonder if God forgot about me. Just goes to show you, huh?
John: Goes to show you what?
Grandpa: Well it just goes… what the hell are you talkin’ about?
John: Well you said you drink beer, you eat bacon and you smoke cigarettes, and you outlive most of the experts.
John: I thought maybe there was a moral.
Grandpa: No, there ain’t no moral. I just like that story. That’s all. Like that story.
So last week when I shelled out the big bucks for a pound of Nueske’s bacon at the butcher counter at Widmer’s for the summer BLTs, I didn’t blink. In fact, I kept cooking that bacon daily to make sure it was all used before any stray pieces went bad. You know how good your house smells when you cook bacon (Try it when you have a for sale sign out front..)? Well, my house still smells like that. The scent is fixed in the rugs and on the dogs, who can’t stop walking around with their noses up in the air. Dave acts the same way. And if there’s a fine layer of fat sprayed all over my stove, he doesn’t wipe it up. “A little bacon grease never hurt anything.”
In the middle of that bacon for breakfast, bacon for lunch spree came a trip to the Saturday Farmer’s Market in downtown St. Paul. For all of you who’ve never been, this is the most beautiful market in the United States. The food that you can’t buy there doesn’t need to be bought.
|Spring market bounty|
Perhaps I exaggerate. But not by much. At the market, I gently loved a few more Minnesota tomatoes enough to coax them out of their owner’s hands and came home to make cheese for caprese.
(See how on my Dinner Place blog.) But that bacon called. And before I knew it, I’d fried up the last of it to tuck in between the caprese layers. Not only that, I threw the haricots verts in a pot of boiling water for two minutes, drained them and topped them with a dop of herb butter. (Here’s how Ina does this. Why should I reinvent the recipe?) I couldn’t resist making a beautiful salad of the entire thing with the beans in the middle.
I don’t see a reason for putting up a recipe for the caprese either; here’s one from epicurious.com. Just add the bacon! I will say this about my caprese: I place the salad on a bed of spinach and I squeeze lemon over all and dust the whole thing liberally with ground sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper. I then drizzle not too much of my balsamic vinaigrette over everything but the green beans, which are already well-seasoned with the herb butter. Lemon on the beans–yes. One of my favorites.
Love summer, my friends.
Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the ‘Hood
The end of August isn’t the end of summer, but there are signs. The flowers look too tired to continue blooming, despite fertilizing and watering. The road crews appear in a big hurry to get it all done. There are Christmas decorations out in a few stores. I’m looking for a guy to plow my driveway. Acorns are dropping and the squirrels are very squirrely. The big tubs of mums are for sale at Ace. Our floor refinishing (and installation in the kitchen) is scheduled so that we can do it while windows can remain open. And, of course, in Minnesota, it’s State Fair Week! (Half a million sticks for food used so far. And if you don’t know what that is, it’s anything edible that will stay on a stick. See what you dream up.)
|Neighbor’s Victory Garden (from my driveway)|
I close today with lovely news! I am now newly employed as a choir director at Prospect Park United Methodist Church, which is a church just across the line in Minneapolis. I’m thrilled, excited, and don’t have words (right) for how light my heart is. Watch this space for news of their fine singers and what fun stuff we’re up to. Thanks be to God. And: thanks to all who supported me and prayed for my employment. Cyberhugs as you
Sing a new song,
Last Friday night was a use-what’s-on-hand night:
|My own garden herbs: marjoram, sage, chives, tarragon, basil, and thyme.|
|I added raisins and chopped cashews to the sautéed greens.|
|The first of our tomatoes went in at the end.|
Despite heat and humidity that all Minnesota is ready to get rid of, we ate outdoors under our big maple tree that reaches toward the house and garage, creating a canopy to cover the patio. That soft, shady spot is often the coolest place anywhere and you can bet I’ve looked. Along with everyone else on Wheeler Street.
Next night, a quick look-see in the frig assured me I had enough to throw together some sort of salad as I had a snake squash (can’t find right name) from my victory garden neighbor:
|Tastes like a cross between a mild zucchini and yellow (summer) squash.|
Some asparagus (now out of season, but still my favorite) was sagging in there and a little bit of the pork tenderloin called me. What really appealed was the rest of my fresh cheese (blogged at Dinner Place), which I knew would fry. Could there be anything bad about fried cheese?
|Alyce’s 2-1 cheese|
What about a salad of greens, sautéed squash and asparagus, with avocado, blueberries, and thinly sliced pork tenderloin topped with fried cheese? With a perky, ramped up orange vinaigrette? I was sold. Moral of story: make up your salad as you go along.
|I cooked the squash and asparagus in a bit of oil, salt and pepper, and set that aside.|
|Sliced up my avocado. Creamy and fatty, it would be a good foil for my spicy greens.|
|Blueberries for color, texture, contrast of taste, and sweetness.|
|About 3-4 oz cooked pork tenderloin–or how much of whatever meat you have.|
|My homemade cheese fried in olive oil and black pepper. Dave was so excited.|
Fried Cheese Snake Squash Salad with Orange Vinaigrette
MAKE YOUR VINAIGRETTE FIRST:
Place the following ingredients in a small jam jar, close tightly with lid, and shake well until emulsified. I like to do this to “America” from West Side Story: Shake to this rhythm..123,123, 1—2—3—. (Thanks, Leonard Bernstein.) Set aside while you make the salad.
MAKE THE SALAD:
Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the ‘Hood
|On the wall ladies’ room in restaurant The Angry Trout|
|In our south garden|
|Heavy, heavy hydrangeas after rain– next to drive|
|As my mom would say, “Morning, Glory.”|
|This incredible flower showed up in my corner garden yesterday.
My pharmacist’s assistant tells me this is a perennial hibiscus.
|I’ve been making blueberry jam, actually blueberry-orange conserve.|
Hot and muggy. Lots of storms and rain. Tomatoes are coming. The first ones weren’t so good. Wonder if it’s like pancakes–throw out the first ones?
Sing a new song; enjoy August,