But What of the Carcass? Close a Door and Open a Window.

Readers of this blog,

A hearty hoo-yeah to you. In the last few weeks, y'all have commented up a storm. Whether via personal emails to me, or comments on the site, you've stepped up your level of involement and I like it. I think the final tally shows 50% stop blathering on about romance, and 50% the romance is the only part worth reading. What's a girl to do? Whatever the hell she wants; keep reading.

This week, I found myself in a kitchen with a large group of people picking at a chicken carcass. I'd just roasted a 5-pounder for a mixed audience; some had roasted before, but many hadn't. The room was popping with pride at having conquered trussing, oiling and roasting, and fighting over what was indeed the moistest breast meat this side of Brittany Murphy.

So there we were, licking fingers and dipping chicken meat in pan drippings. The carcass looked so sad, and as I went to drop it in the trash, a round-the-block pal asked me what exactly I thought I was doing, and promptly told me to drop it in a pot and make a soup. It was a 40 degree windy day, and this would cure what ailed us, whether or not we ailed.

I plopped the chicken carcass into a pot with a few root vegetables and herbs; in about an hour we had a couple of pints of golden tasty love.

The point is this. Amidst all my romance bitching, some good is bound to come. Darkest hour before the dawn and all that. I mean look, a close friend of mine just found out the man she's been falling in love with for the better part of a year has decided to return to his ex-lover. You know, the one he said wasn't that good looking, smart or stable. Lemons. Another had a quick little fling with a work colleague, only to find him oddly aggressive in the workplace. A carcass. Another friend so eager for a family but unhappy with her romance options has finally decided to go the Single Mothers By Choice route.

The first friend won a shopping spree at a local mall days later, and the latter friend got a better job. My SMBC pal is three months pregnant. Bad news can become good news; it all depends on that state of mind. That terrible snowstorm plaguing the city is quite beautiful when you're warm inside watching it.


Chicken Carcass Soup
Makes a pint plus

Carcass of a chicken (use one 5-pounder for this recipe and leave the back fat on; if you'd been roasting chickens for a while, keep the bones frozen and make a big pot of soup once you've got enough to make it worthwhile, adjust recipe quantities as necessary)
3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced 1/2-inch thick
3 medium parsnips, peeled and sliced 1/2-inch thick
2 stalks celery, peeled and sliced 1/2-inch thick
3 medium shallots, chopped
a few sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf (optional)
handful of frozen peas (if desired)
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1. Put chicken carcass in a medium pot, and cover by 1-inch with water. Bring to a simmer, and skim off any shmutz that comes to the top of the pot. Simmer for 15 minutes.

2. Add carrots, parsnips, celery, shallots, thyme, and bay leaf (if desired). Simmer for one hour. Taste, and season as needed (the flavor should pop as you add salt). Throw in a handful of peas (if desired), and simmer until they are bright green, about 3 minutes. Discard the carcass and serve warm.

Kitchen's Closing: Apple Tart Tatin

So my last posting was a real doozie. Sad, self-deprecating, a few weak attempts at humor, but more than anything, pretty freaking depressing. It's made me rethink this whole blog thing.

I've been blogging for almost a year now. I wanted to commit to my Friday postings for an entire year, just to get into the rhythm of writing. The goal was to review foods and techniques that I was finding in other people's kitchens. Except that didn't work out too well, because not enough people were inviting me over for dinner, and when they did, they didn't want me to report on the meal. Fair enough.

So what could I do? Report on meals I ate myself. The year started well enough, dating JChef gave some great material. Until he requested that he be left out of the blog. Very hard to write honestly about your life while leaving out a major part.

Then it occured to me that JChef was on to something -- having that much of your life revealed is a little weird. In this blogging, reality, lurk-a-lot media culture, I forgot that sometimes it is better to keep the curtains drawn. But when I pulled back, the enteries were BOOOOORRRRINNG.

You responded to my love life, and truly, when I looked back at the week and thought about what was on my mind, it was usually the people in my life. I'm a human being, my relationships are of primary importantce to me (not just romance, but being a sister (and as of October 10th, an AUNT! Yippee!, a daughter, a friend, a dog-owner, etc). Without them, I wilt. But when I added some bits about love, they've been mostly inauthentic and guarded. As a result, the enteries have been both boring AND depressing.

I got a little lost on my way. This blog is called in YOUR kitchen. It's supposed to be about those little delicious things other people make in their kitchens that you'd just love to know about.

So what to do? If you've been reading for the recipes, here's the good news: I'm still going to write them weekly. But this time I'm going to try to get back to the original point of this thing, and keep it about the food. Instead of making it super personal, I'll put in a bit more about health, and make it the type of thing my grandmothers would read, not cringe and cross their legs.



Apple Tart Tatin
Adapted from a far more complicated recipe in Bon Appetit
Serves 8

Perfect recipe for right now; pick great baking apples (I'm giving you a hint on one, but ask your local farmer's market vendor...they can be fun to talk to). This recipe is an easy twist on a classic (like good old-fashioned discretion), delicious, and a bit out of the ordinary.

1 package good-quality puff pastry (Fresh Direct makes some kick-ass puff, or Dufour, Pepperidge Farm if you must)
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
8 Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored and halved
1 egg
Crème fraîche, sour cream, or vanilla ice cream

1. Spread butter over bottom of 9-inch-diameter ovenproof nonstick skillet with sloping sides (skillet should be at least 1 3/4 inches deep). Reserve 2 tablespoons sugar; sprinkle remaining sugar over butter. Place skillet over medium-low heat and cook until butter melts, sugar begins to dissolve and mixture starts to bubble, about 3 minutes.
2. Remove from heat. Arrange apples rounded-side down around edge of skillet, placing tightly together. Arrange as many of remaining apples as will fit, in 2 circles in center of skillet. Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons sugar.
3. Set skillet over medium-high heat; boil until thick peanut butter-color syrup forms, repositioning skillet often for even cooking and adding remaining apples as space permits, about 45 minutes (syrup will continue to darken during baking). Remove from heat.
4. Meanwhile, position rack in center of oven and preheat to 425 °F.
5. Roll out puff pastry on floured surface to 10-inch round; place over apples. Cut four 2-inch slits in top of pastry. Press pastry down around apples at edge of skillet; brush pastry with some of egg glaze.
6. Bake tart until pastry is deep golden brown, about 20 minutes. Transfer to work surface; cool 1 minute. Cut around edge of skillet to loosen pastry. Place large platter over skillet. Using oven mitts, hold the skillet and platter together tightly and invert, allowing tart to fall onto platter. Carefully lift off skillet. Rearrange any apples that may have become dislodged. Cool tart 30 minutes.
7. Cut warm tart into wedges. Serve with crème fraîche.

Calling in the Troops: Creamy Tomato Soup

Today I did something I never thought I'd do. I asked my parents for a favor, one that would make most people my age cringe. It wasn't money, keys to the car, or 51% inheritance. I asked my parents to help me date.

We never thought this would be a problem, back in high school my parents probably wished I'd do a little less dating. But time has come to admit that I'm of a certain age (34), and quite eager to start living this great life I see my friends around me enjoying -- a partner to pal around with, and some kids to poke at. It doesn't look as drek as it looked in my twenties, and quite frankly I'm tired of hanging around in bars.

Unfortunately, my male counterparts are available due to the exact OPPOSITE reasons I am; they don't want that pal stuff. There are tons of guys around, all licking their chops when we start talking in a restaurant, on the street, in the park, wherever. So eager and enthusiastic to do anything but that on which I've got my heart set.

My Dad is a strong fellow, a bit of a flirt himself, quite a captivating guy. Good natured, affable, always talking to waitresses more than most. He's baffled by the fact that I can't seem to find a decent guy. A daddy's girl I'm not; he's very upfront and direct, a real man's man, so this type of conversation is new to him.

"It's not like you're fat and ugly. I mean, you should see some of the women getting married these days."

I know, dad.

And then there's mom. She's lovely, the kind the friends go to for advice. Fantastic listener -- in fact, there was a time a few years ago where she was actually trolling JDate on my behalf. Even found a guy I spent a few months dating. She's got practice and potential in this arena. Instead of trying to look for new warm bodies, she opted for a trip down memory lane.

"What about Michael Corlione? You were awfully fond of him."

He's involved in organized crime, ma.

"I know, but you two had a really good time."

Did you not hear the mob part, mom? He's dating someone now, and is always calling me for a fling. Can we cross him off the list?

Enter Dad, "Then why the hell are you taking his calls? I tell you, you stay too long with some of these jokers."

"What about Flamingo?" chirps Mom.

I need someone financially stable mom; I don't ask that he take care of me, I just need him to cover his own debts.

"I thought you said you just 'wanted someone nice and not-gay'?" asked Mom, quoting me back at me.

"Honey, we don't know anyone," said Dad. "We live in a retirement community."

When did setting up your children stop being the favorite passtime in retirement communities? I suppose good fences do make good neighbors.

With a little encouragement, they agreed to come on board. And what's more, there is a silver lining to this dating monsoon, and it is this: I realized that I actually value my parents opinions. Most people I know want their parents to bud out. I actually want mine to bud in. Heck, it can be a fun-for-the-whole-family game. If I can't contribute the Mazel and Tov of a wedding, etcetera, at least we can all have fun playing the dating game instead of me, alone, wallowing in Manhattan man malaise. Because they're what I've got, and they're the whole reason I'm looking to recreate a little of what I had. They did a good job.

BACK TO CHILDHOOD CREAMY TOMATO SOUP
Inspired by Sarabeth's in New York City.
Serves 6 to 8

½ stick butter
1 small onion, chopped
2 large shallots, chopped
2 scallions(green tops only), thinly sliced
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 can (28 ounces) whole tomatoes in thick puree
3 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy or whipping cream
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/3 cup loosely packed torn fresh dill sprigs, plus more for garnish (or use basil)
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
3/4 cup grated Cheddar cheese

1. In 5- to 6-quart saucepot, melt 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat. Add onion, shallots, scallion tops, and garlic. Cook 5 minutes or until onion is tender (don't get color on the onions, just soften them. Meanwhile, remove the tomatoes from the puree, reserving the puree, and use your hands to squish the tomatoes, removing any tough stems. This is childhood after all, have fun with it. Make sure the pieces are bite-sized.

2. Add milk, cream, and tomatoes with their puree to saucepot. Increase heat to high; heat mixture to boiling.

3. In large saucepan, melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter over low heat. With wire whisk, stir in flour and cook 2 to 3 minutes, stirring frequently, making sure mixture does not brown. Gradually whisk in 1 1/2 cups hot tomato mixture.

4. Return mixture to pot, and reduce heat to very low. Cook, uncovered, barely simmering, 30 minutes to blend flavors and thicken slightly, stirring frequently. Stir in torn dill sprigs, salt, and pepper.

5. To serve, ladle soup into 8 bowls; top with Cheddar and garnish with dill sprigs if you like. (For the smoothest soup, puree in a food processor or blender, carefully, as the mixture is hot, and pass through a strainer.)

BEATing Around the Bush: The Spinach Issue

The recent spinach scare has some folks reconsidering the green as a food option. It's become a hard-to-find item in restaurants and grocery stores, which I find ridiculous (talk about tossing out the pasta with the boiling water). But ever-looking for that silver lining, it's an incredible opportunity for other greens. Arugula is jumping out of the wings like an ambitious understudy, and I'd like to make a proper introduction to one of my all time favorite greens, those belonging to the beet.

Arugula is peppery and spicy as you know if you've watched Food Network for more than 5 minutes. It has a fragile baby salad-version that is a counterpart to baby spinach, often found in mesclun mixes. It has a heartier version, too, that comes rubber-banded and is often nestled right up against our missing pal spinach. I like to cook that kind, or toss it in with pastas. I was once taught how to make an ox-tail stew by an Argentinean woman who always threw in a handful of greens, like watercress or arugula, at the end of a her braising cooking, much like we'd add a sprinkle of fresh parsley to our dishes. The more assertive watercress and arugula balances those heavy meat flavors and refreshes the dish.

But the sleeper green here is beet greens. As you know if you've been reading, I'm thrifty. I like beat greens, first and foremost, because they come FREE with beautiful, perfect, just picked beets. Let's put it this way; if the greens are still attached, chances are the beets haven't been sitting in some cellar for the last 10 months. Know what I mean?

But don't just toss those greens into a salad, as these puppies need to be cooked before you eat them. Wash them well, heat some pine nuts in a skillet, add a little olive oil, put in the greens (they shrink, just like spinach), cover and let cook about 5 minutes. Season with S&P and you've got a vital, delicious green. Enjoy!


Arugula Salad with Beets, Almonds & Goat Cheese
Serves 4 to 6

This epitomizes the notion that "simple is best". Roasted beets are sweet and intense. Pair them with fresh, bouncy greens, and top with almonds and cheese. But not just any almonds, Spanish Marcona's are rich and juicy (yes, a nut can be juicy), more delicious than any American almond. They can be found a quality cheese shops. Spend a little time selecting a better-than average goat cheese. I like Cypress Grove Purple Haze.

1 bunch beets, greens reserved for another use; beets scrubbed
Walnut oil, Argan oil, or a good-quality extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper, salt
1 large bunch arugula, trimmed and cleaned
1 handful marcona almonds
2 ounces goat cheese
2 teaspoons red wine vinegar, or squeeze of half a lemon

Preheat oven to 400F. Make sure beets are well scrubbed, and no bigger than 2-inches in diameter. The more consistent your beet sizes are, the more evenly they will cook. Lay the beets on a large sheet of aluminum foil; drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper. Wrap up, and place in the oven. Cook for about 40 minutes, or until the tip of a knife comes out easily. (If you don't have foil, like I didn't, just place the beets in a pre-warmed skillet, cover and continue along.)

Let beets cool until you can touch them; remove the skins (they should slip off, but they will stain your hands...you may want to use gloves). Slice and reserve.

Just before serving, toss the arugula with oil and vinegar (roughly using 2 to 3 times as much oil as vinegar), and season with salt and pepper. Eyeball it, then toss the greens with your hands. Taste a leaf to determine if it's seasoned properly. Top the greens with the beets, sprinkle the almonds, and gently crumble (not the best term, as the cheese is soft, but you know what I mean) the goat cheese over the salad.

Then call to let me know how wondeful it was. And next time you shop, pick up some spinach. Just make sure it's locally grown and not victim to all the weirdness of industrial farming. Enjoy.