Purple Beans and Nectarines

June 4, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I recently befriended a lady who apparently performs a front flip out of bed every morning, to get her day started in a positive way. I know. I just barfed too.

This lady, this modern, authentic and charismatic character, is the real deal. She's not the paleo, gluten-free version of an interesting person. She is the most genuinely motivated and curious person I have ever met. She is also an insanely talented singer, especially in that joyful underwater, frozen in a castle, stuck in a tower kind of way.

She's like magic.

Magic like these beans.

Food can be magic.

I thought I did something wrong after steaming these beans before sautéing. I was super obsessed with the color, aubergine purple without the dreadful taste of eggplant (like the ONLY food I don't enjoy).

And then they turned green. Boring green bean green. I would have been bummed if they didn't somehow taste purple (not true). No, they tasted like perfection. Didn't even need sautéing, but I did it anyway, cause I had nectarines that needed a warm friend.

Now back to the front-flip girl. I'm going to attempt to not complain about being a parent of two. While difficult, it's certainly the most rewarding thing I've done in my life. When we wake up in the morning, after what has generally been a mediocre night's sleep, woken up by at least one of the two kids (lately both), it's kinda tough to greet the day with bright eyes when all I wanna do is roll over and snuggle with my handsome husband.

The front-flip girl wants kids. I can only imagine she'll be the most excellent mother... but I'm curious if she'll still practice said-flip once she's popped one out? I wonder. I don't doubt she will.

I say this often, but when you have kids, you need things to be easy. I'm a big fan of easy. This crisp, grilled salad is easy. Front flips are not. Getting out of bed and putting on a happy face isn't always easy, but damn it feels good to greet the day with a good mood.

I'm taking life lessons from this lady, reminding myself no matter how hard the middle of the night is, no matter how many time-outs we have to deal with, no matter how often spit-up soaks my left shoulder, those smiles I wake up to are worth it.

I know, barf.

Grilled Nectarines with Purple Beans

Ingredients:

1/2 to 1 lb. purple beans, ends snipped off
3-4 nectarines, cut from the pit into half-moon pieces
juice of half a lemon
olive oil
balsamic vinegar
Nice goat cheese like my new fave, Bucheron Montchevre
2-3 tbsp chopped toasted walnuts

Directions:

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and either boil purple beans until tender, 4-5 minutes, or steam in steamer basket until tender, 7 minutes. Watch your purple beans turn green. Plunge beans in an ice bath to stop cooking. Remove from water and let dry. Cut into 2-3 inch pieces once cool enough to handle.

Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a skillet over medium heat. Gently sauté the beans until slightly browed. Add a pinch of salt, the juice of half a lemon and put aside.

Heat a grill pan or outdoor grill to medium high. Combine nectarines with a nice glug of olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Grill until browned, 5-6 minutes. Alternately, heat 2 tbsp of butter in pan and cook nectarines until browned, 5-6 minutes. Remove and let cool. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar.

Combine the beans and nectarines in a bowl, sprinkle with salt and pepper and another squeeze of lemon, top with crumbled goat cheese and toasted walnuts.

My Kind of Baby Shower

May 13, 2014 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

When someone truly special moves to a different city, and when that someone is a glue amongst her lady-friends, we all suffer a little. Enter Mrs. Kelly Mathis Hellenga. Boo hoo.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of lending my in-laws home to a few lovely ladies to host a baby shower for Mrs. Kelly. I literally did nothing to contribute to the party except secure the location (get father-in-law out of the house asap) and fight with my daughter. And of course, during a brief lapse in toddler negotiations, thoroughly enjoy a perfect afternoon party. There has never been a better Bloody Mary and Mimosa bar to date.

Betsy provided the bar with, as you can see, a wild array of Bloody additions, pickled onions, olives, celery, lemon, lime, spices, hot sauces and the deal-sealer, beef jerky straws. On the adjacent table, mini sliders (served cold blew my mind yum), deviled eggs, crudite, peel-and-eat shrimp and an entirely stocked Mimosa and wine bar, fresh juices, and crispy breadsticks. This is just the bar folks. Not the meal.

Meghan's beautiful mason jar arrangements as party favors

Meghan chose the lovely navy tablecloths and beige napkins, arranged these striking mason jar floral favors, one for each party-goer to take home, picked the striped red straws to complement the color scheme, and managed the brawn to set it all up. Sierra, with the help of Meghan's grocery stop, whipped up food for forty all by herself. (I'll let Sierra share her post on the mind-blowing menu).

When someone as significant and special as Kelly bowed out of our L.A. female force, we took it hard. We're taking it hard. Clearly staking her mark on all our hearts, if it weren't for the baby growing in her belly, her man's life settled in Atlanta, and a desire to be closer to family in South Carolina (okay, okay) we would have forced her to stay. But dammit, that baby's being born and raised in the South. I ain't got no problem with that.

It seems as if pregnancy is something in the water lately, as I can claim six friends who are currently with-child. SIX! Three of them at this party! Sweet Kelly in red and purple...

The always lovely Claire in yellow. Jesse and Betsy, already mothers of young boys, I assume are thrilled to not be pregnant.

Sexy Shannon in black with TWIN boys. Insane, right?

Lola and Sarah and I enjoying some champagne, just before Vesper gave me a bloody lip, (kind of) accidentally. The joys of parenthood!

Back to the shower.

Then we have this tall drink of water, Laura, and her stunning daughter Ginger in the most inspired look of the day, carrying a diaper cake. If having children scares you, just channel these two... the kindest, gentlest angels of all.

Celebrating a new life coming into this world is a wonder. First time motherhood, while scary and daunting, is one of those rare jobs where endlessly thankless moments are made valuable in the smallest, tiniest smile. I can't wait for Kelly and Shannon to experience it for the first time, and Claire all over again. As soon as a milestone is met, another challenge awaits.

Saying you want to have children is one thing. Living it, marking your growth (and age) alongside these little people, dating yourself by their developments and breakthroughs is quite another. Then you get to put a Superman hat on a little boy amongst forty emotional, hormonal women. And you win.

What a day! Thanks to Pearly, my rock of a Mum-in-Law, for lending her beautiful home for this special day. Thanks to the Guest of Honor herself for these gorgeous pictures. Thanks to Sam, my husband, for taking my Ded-in-Law to golf so he didn't overhear the hen party and all our cackling.

Most importantly, thanks to Betsy for the Bloody Mary ideas, especially these.

Braised Artichokes

May 3, 2014 French

By Sierra French Myerson

I heart-a-chockes. Yep, nothing like one of my favorite vegetables to bring out my really good “dad jokes”. No shame here. “What did the green bean say to the eggplant?”…ok, no, not really.

But, seriously, artichokes make me happy. Some people don’t get them. “Too much work with not enough payoff.” I suppose I could understand that, what with the teeth scraping and inner beard cleaning. Eww that sounded inappropriately dirty. But, I dare these haters to try artichokes again in the height of their season; and, the braised way.

It was during a conversation with one of these artichoke bigots that it dawned on me…to braise. He kept saying that except for the heart the scoured bits from the leaves tasted like nothing more than the mayonnaise in which they were dipped. I clearly disagreed, but it got me to thinking about how to infuse flavor into the hearty veg pre-creamy sauce dunk.

This last winter, I officially became a braised chicken bitch. At least twice a week, I was browning and drowning my chicken thighs in lemon, wine, and aromatics, and it never got tired. Every last bit had exceptional flavor. Not a bland bite on the bone. Ok, then why not mimic this with my robust friend, the artichoke?

Well, a bright idea it was! (I know I wasn’t the first to think of it, but I’m darn pleased with myself nevertheless.) Every drag and pull on the leaves equalled an especially flavorful morsel. Though, I used the braising liquid to make a simple sauce to accompany the artichokes, I vote to try them first as is. Embrace thy Mediterranean vegetable flavor bomb.

Braised Artichokes

What you’ll need:

2 - 4 good sized artichokes, trimmed and halved lengthwise*
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 cloves of garlic, smashed
3 lemons, juiced and halves
Reserved 6 - 8 cups of water
4 - 6 Tb of butter, cold and cubed Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat oil in a large 8-10 quart pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic; cook until fragrant. Add artichokes cut side down. Cook for 2-3 minutes until heart is slightly browned.

Flip over artichokes. Add wine, lemon juice, reserved squeezed lemon halves, water to cover, and a good sprinkling of salt. Bring to a boil. Lower heat to a steady simmer.

Cook artichokes until tender, about 45 minutes. Pull off an outside leaf and test for tenderness. Remove artichokes to a platter; cover to keep warm.

Reserve 2 cups of the braising liquid. Discard the rest. Return reserved liquid to pot. Cook at medium heat until reduced, about 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat.

Add butter; whisk until combined. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over the artichokes, or serve on the side as dipping sauce.

*Be sure to pull off all of the tough outer leaves. They won’t soften up unless you overcook the rest of the artichoke. I also like to remove the artichoke “beard” with a pairing knife before I cook them. It makes for a neater eating experience.

Makes 2-6 servings. I always like to make extras. They are so good as a chilled leftover snack.

Beets and Their Greens

May 3, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I eat beets. I order beets. I generally really love beets. But I never buy them. So when they showed up on my doorstep in my Summerland box I got super excited. Especially since they're good for your liver. And my liver needs love.

We have had houseguests for almost two weeks, sadly ending a few days ago when our dear friend Kelly, in town for her baby shower, left Los Angeles for her new home in Atlanta. And before her lovely visit, my folks were here for nearly a week, spoiling us with love, groceries, and a culinary tour of L.A., also helping with an Easter party at my in-laws home in Malibu. We literally ate and drank our way around town; spoiled at Sotto, The Ivy, Tra Di Noi,Girasol, Bloom Cafe, and Paper or Plastik. I now need a girdle, a juice cleanse, and a wine break.

Enter beets.

And their greens.

Much less expensive than said juice cleanse, and in my opinion, just as good-for-you.

In my new kitchen...well new by six months... I'm fascinated by the light that comes in these windows. Even more, I'm shamefully accustomed to our warm, freakishly warm weather, when I'm able to open my side kitchen door, let the light and warmth in, and capture something as beautiful as this crimson earthy veggie; a veggie that tastes like candy.

I've said I love spinach. I love beet greens more.

It's super easy to write about beets. It's really no big deal.

My quest for a cleanse is the bigger deal. The heavier deal.

As I've aged, as I've matured and grown (I think) wiser... I've also settled into some habits I'm somewhat weary of, even scared of. Beets have brought me to my knees, on the heels of seeing many folks at the mercy of addiction, enslaved by the numbness that feels so good. I find myself, after ten months of sobriety due to pregnancy, save a glass of wine here and there, right back to my old ways. Able to drink wine like water.

And I have to wonder, is it in me? Is it a part of my genetics that makes it so easy to be superfluous? Or is it stored up thirst, after months of discipline and abstinence? Can I control it?

I don't mean to claim serious addiction, and don't want anyone to worry about me! I just ask these questions as a girl in her late thirties, getting used to bad habits, growing more and more aware of the hold these rituals have on me. And paying attention to the grip. So relax.

Beets, Greens, Garlic, Goat cheese, salt

I just added a picture to relieve some intensity.

It's truly no laughing matter, and no place for me to make light of such a heavy issue. But beets are beating me up.

If you have a friend or family member who struggles with addiction, or you yourself are struggling, check outAl-Anon or AA, or reach out to a friend, mentor, elder, church member, or anyone you can confide in.

And enjoy roasting some super healthy beets.

Roasted Beets and Greens

Ingredients:

3-4 beets, varying sizes
Beet greens, clipped, leaves torn from stalks
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves minced garlic (or 3, I'm heavy-handed with garlic)
1 tbsp sunflower seeds
1 tbsp goat cheese
1/2 tsp Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper

Directions:

Heat oven to 375.

Remove beet stems, leaving 2 inches of stem in tact, to prevent bleeding. Wash beets thoroughly and toss with 2 tbsp olive oil and a pinch of salt. Cover. Roast beets for 45-60 minutes or until knife-tender.

Just before beets are done, heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a hot pan. Add garlic and cook for about a minute. Tear greens in 2-3 inch pieces and add to pan, sautéing until wilted, a minute or two. Season with salt and pepper.

Once beets are cool enough to handle, peel (your hands will be beautiful bright colors!) and cut into large pieces. Toss beets with a pinch of salt and sunflower seeds. Dollop with goat cheese and serve with wilted greens.

How I Love Pasta

April 10, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I'm sure I'm not the only one, but if I could eat pasta for every single meal, I would. Even brown rice pasta, millet, farro, barley, couscous, quinoa, whatever. As long as it's a carbohydrate that I can combine with a sauce or fresh ingredients, I want it.

So when I began my hunt for waistline-reducing-carb-free meals, zucchini noodles appeared to be all the rage. And now I know why! I'm even embarrassed to admit I want to buy this spiralizer but instead settled onthis new little gadget. I'm happy with my multi-use mandolin / grater, but I am envious of the lovely zucchini curls created by the spiralizer. Who am I kidding? I'm totally gonna buy one.

Sierra's incredible Spaghetti Squash is another mind-blowing carb-free option by the way. I'm going to post a few of my favorite alternatives as well, like rosemary-caper tuna salad in red peppers, paleo lettuce wraps, my favorite meatballs, and a Mustard Seed Cafe rip-off turkey burger salad. All to come.

So as you can see, my mandolin makes straight noodles vs. the curly pasta-like ones. They still taste and look great, but it's just not the same. It'll never be the same. Either way, zucchini is a very wet vegetable, so you need to let them sweat. I like to put the cut veggies into a colander over the sink, add a little salt and let them sweat for about 30 minutes. Don't add too much salt though. They really soak it up.

Go ahead and chop your other ingredients

While the sweating is happening, chop everything else. You can make this dish vegetarian, add rotisserie chicken during the stir-fry step, or add a pulled pork like I did. I can't claim the pork though. It was a gift from my friend Sarah. It was so good, I must to attempt to remake it. You truly could add any vegetable or protein to the noodles and sauce. This is a great basic recipe to start from.

If you're skinny, don't give a sh*t, or didn't have a baby this year, eat pasta instead.

Jerk.

Zucchini Noodles with Pulled Pork and Lime

Ingredients:

3 zucchinis, sliced on a julienne mandolin, or spiralized into noodles
2-3 carrots, sliced in 1/4 inch pieces
1 red pepper, medium dice
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp thyme, cilantro, and/or parley - I would use all three if if you have them
2 tbsp chopped scallions
1 tsp fish sauce
2 tbsp olive oil
juice of half a lime, plus wedges for serving
fresh ground pepper and Kosher salt

optional: 1 heaping cup of pulled pork, chopped rotisserie chicken, or any cooked protein

Directions:

Heat oil over medium heat in large skillet or wok.

Add garlic and cook briefly without browning.

Add red pepper and sauté for 3-4 minutes.

Add carrot and cook for additional 2 minutes.

Add pulled pork, cooked chicken, or protein and cook for an additional 2-3 minutes.

Add spices and scallions, cook for a minute.

Finally add zucchini noodles, lime, fish sauce and pepper and cook for a few additional minutes.

Salt to taste and serve with lime wedges.

Try it. You Might Like it.

April 2, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

A few things about my dad: he grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, attended Oklahoma State University, and still proudly wears black and orange on game days in support (in the privacy of his own home of course; dreadful color combination any day other than Hallow's Eve). Oh, and he hates asparagus.

Truly, truly hates asparagus.

I have absolutely no intention of persuading him to try it after all these years of evasion and resentment, even though I believe I have mastered roasted asparagus with crunchy garlic. Even though he's probably never tasted something this green and this delicious, I will forego any attempt at conversion. I will, however, make him read this post.

And I'll make him stare at the beauty in this spring vegetable.

I believe the story goes like this: dad was force-fed asparagus quite often as a young boy, to the point of actually making him sick. It makes perfect sense why, as an independent man, really by age 14, he chose to refute the stalks. I would do the same thing. Neither of my parents ever force-fed their kids, which is why I crave things like spinach, sushi, and farro. I'm grateful for my lack of aversion to pretty much everything sans eggplant and blue cheese. But that's my palette's fault, not my parent's.

If you too have a distaste for asparagus, I beg you try this easy recipe, just once.

Drizzle the snapped stalks with the oil mixture

Up until about five years ago, I always just cut the stems evenly. I would blame it on my OCD but actually I just didn't know you could snap the end off; the asparagus knows what part of its stalk is tasty, and what part is bitter. Impressive vegetable.

Speaking of impressive things, these eggs.

Eggs from my secret Egg Man (thanks Sarah Jane)

If you have an Egg man, then you are lucky. If you have this Egg man, you are blessed. He already runs out every Sunday morning at our tiny local farmer's market, so until I know he has enough stock, I'll keep his location to myself. I must thank my dear friend Sarah Morris Brower for sending me to the Egg man so many months ago when we moved to Wilshire Vista. I have not been able to enjoy an Egg from anywhere else since. I have, however, joined a weekly subscription delivery from Summerland, and next week I'll receive a dozen of their farm-fresh eggs. We will see how they compare and compete. And by the way, Summerland is changing my life. Check it out.

I could eat this for breakfast, lunch, or dinner nearly every day if I didn't need variety. I wish I could say the same for my dad. With all my heart I can honestly say, he would hate it.

Roasted Garlic Asparagus with Sunny Side Up Egg

Ingredients:

Large handful of asparagus, stalks snapped at base
3 cloves minced garlic
1/2 cup olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1 tbsp unsalted butter
2 eggs shaved parmesan or pecorino

Directions:

Heat convection roasting oven to 400

In a small bowl, whisk olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper until cloudy.

Place asparagus on roasting pan or cookie sheet and cover with garlic / olive oil mixture. Combine on the sheet so all stalks are covered with as much garlic as you can pinch, resting atop the asparagus.

Roast for 16-18 minutes.

In last five minutes of roasting, heat butter in a cast iron skillet on medium low heat. Crack eggs and fry slowly until the white part of the egg is just cooked, never flipping.

Plate asparagus, top with egg and roasted garlic pieces, sprinkle with cheese.

Pure and Simple

April 2, 2014 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Do you ever wake up from a dream that is so good that you try to force yourself back to sleep so you can finish it? That’s how I felt about the cauliflower soup I had at one of my favorite lunch spots recently. Eduard, the chef/owner, prides himself on his vegan (not something I generally gravitate towards) purees. He swears he never uses potato to thicken or enhance his soups. So, when I asked Eduard what made it so flavorful, he coyly smirked at me as only this particular French Moroccan can do.

For days, I had cauliflower on the brain. Not being a veg that I generally crave, I was stumped. So I did what any obsessed soup fan would do, I became totally preoccupied with unearthing Eduard’s secret. I knew it was based on cauliflower. It was vegan, so no dairy or chicken stock, though it was creamy and rich. No potatoes, yet still thick and velvety. And, then, it hit me…duh!

Way to complicate the uncomplicated, Sierra. Frankly, I was slightly disappointed with myself. For someone who prides herself on celebrating fresh produce, I was overlooking the obvious.

Eduard simply honors the purity of his starring vegetable. If it’s extremely fresh and in season, said veggie doesn't need much help at all. Just respect and delight in the pure and simple.

Pure and Simple Cauliflower Soup

Adapted from Paul Bertolli, formerly of Chez Panisse

*As Spring arrives, I’m super excited to try this recipe with other vegetables…peas, asparagus, zucchini, and on and on. Play around too…let me know what worked for you.

What you’ll need:

3 Tbs. olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, sliced thin
1 head fresh cauliflower, broken into small florets
5 1/2 cups water, divided
Good extra virgin oil, to drizzle
Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat the olive oil in a heavy bottomed pot. Cook the onion over low heat until just translucent. Don’t let the onions brown.

Add the cauliflower, a good pinch of salt, and 1/2 of a cup of water. Cover the pot tightly. Raise the heat to medium and let cook for 15-18 minutes, until the cauliflower is fork tender.

Then, add 4 1/2 cups of water. Lower heat, and bring to a low simmer. Let cook uncovered for 20 minutes.

Take off the heat. With a hand blender, puree the soup until smooth and creamy. If using a proper blender, puree in batches. Once pureed, let soup stand for 20 minutes. It will thicken up a bit during this time.

Thin the soup with 1/4 -1/2 cup hot water until you reach your ideal consistency. Reheat the soup. Ladle into bowls. Serve drizzled with good olive oil and freshly ground pepper.

Not Really Pesto, Pesto

February 28, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

So I'm currently car-less at home in a rain storm (not sad about it at all), writing a post, breastfeeding a baby, filing my nails and catching up on True Detective and Sara Bareilles on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show. To say the least, moms can seriously multitask.

Since the birth of our little man, my life has been a series of very predictable cycles. Babies do cry, but they cry for only five reasons: hunger, discomfort, gassiness, exhaustion, and a need to burp. That's it. All I've been doing is figuring out which cry is which, following his schedule and making him happy. After 6 weeks on this earth, he's finally speaking clearly to me. I think I've got it.

I managed to get a shot of our kids BOTH smiling! Granted, this only lasted the duration of the six shot photo series.

Anyway, onto food. And not really pesto, pesto.

During any down time carved out during Flynn's naps and while Vesper is at school, I've been trying a few new things, one being this herb-nut topping. I've made pesto several different ways, but never this combination, and I generally use a food processor, not a mortar and pestle.

Almonds, walnuts, cilantro, mint, spicy red onion

This time I found a recipe in Fine Cooking for an herb-nut topping on Arctic Char served with roasted carrots. A no-need-to-clean-an-appliance pesto recipe. Perfect. It immediately caught my eye.

Since I'm living on someone else's feeding schedule, I've found the last thing I consider is what to feed myself. I certainly wish my waistline proved that, but I did just have a baby six weeks ago, so I'm giving myself a little slack. We've had a steady trail of incredible friends visiting with food and extra arms to hold the baby or entertain Vesper, but that tends to slow down by the second month. So chicken, tuna and egg salad have become mainstays in our fridge, prepped food for grabbing on-the-go. This herb-topping / pesto is the perfect addition to pretty much anything. A slice of warm toast, a salmon filet, rotisserie chicken, even mixed in with fresh zucchini noodles.

Instead of using the food processor or blender, just add it all to a mortar and pestle and combine until you reach your desired consistency. I prefer a little chunkier for my warm toast tapenade, but as a pesto, keep on grinding.

In zucchini noodle land, speaking of, I just made the best dinner of all time with said "noodles." That recipe coming next. As soon as I get through this next sleep cycle.

Enjoy!

Herb-Nut Topping

Adapted directly from Fine cooking

Ingredients:

1/4 cup toasted, finely chopped almonds
1/4 cup toasted, finely chopped walnuts
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh cilantro
3 Tbs. finely chopped red onion
2-1/2 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbs. finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (I didn't use, cause I didn't have)
2 Tbs. finely chopped fresh mint
1/8 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

Literally, put it all in a mortar and pestle and combine until you reach desired consistency.

A Super Bowl of Chili

January 30, 2014 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

Well there's a new Farrar in the world. We made a person. Such a weird reality. And he is precious, and perfect, an angel, a real-life doll. We have a son, and nothing could be cooler.

Needless to say, cooking has been a challenge lately, but since my mother happens to be living with us for the first month of Flynn's life, I now know what it feels like to have a wife. If you ever have a child and you have a mother who can't wait to help and hold your baby, let her move in. That's rule #1.

Rule #2, let her cook for you. And if you have to cook, make something easy. Like chili. Like this turkey chili.

How great is my timing? It's the Super Bowl on Sunday, and chili just makes sense for the big day. Whip up some cornbread and you're good. You're set.

I've had two babies and each time I have delivered, a major tennis tournament has been televised. It's almost as if Sam and I timed our due dates with the onslaught of one of the slams. Maybe we should have two more kids, one for Wimbledon, one for the French?

Sam would probably kill me. Yeah, I'd be dead.

To say the least, Flynn is an angel. He's even easier than Vesper as a baby. I shouldn't actually publish such statements, for fear of jinxing his debut, but I have to gloat. Even so, we still love having the extra hand from another adult... enter said mom-wife / angel from above. After two weeks of feeding me while Sam was in Europe on tour, I knew it was time to whip up something yum for her.

Once you add the tortilla chips, avocado, scallions, sour cream, and shredded cheese, you have a complete meal. A bowl of meat and spices doesn't seem that substantial, but you can always top a baked potato with the chili and see how that pans out.

I'll post some pics of little toes and fingers soon.

In the meantime, enjoy some chili, the Super Bowl, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Jerk.

A Super Bowl of Chili

Adapted directly from chow.com

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 medium red bell pepper, medium dice
1 medium yellow onion, medium dice
2-3 medium garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1-1.5 pounds ground turkey
3 tablespoons chili powder
2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus more as needed
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes, hand crushed over pot
1 cup low-sodium chicken broth or stock
1/2-1 cup of beer, preferably Mexican or light beer
1 (14-ounce) can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed 1 bay leaf

For serving:

Shredded cheddar cheese Sour cream Avocado Diced scallions Crushed tortilla chips

Directions:

Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add the bell pepper, onion, and garlic, season with salt, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables have softened, about 5 to 8 minutes.

Increase the heat to medium high, add the turkey, and cook, breaking it up into smaller pieces with a wooden spoon, until it’s no longer pink and is just cooked through, about 4 to 6 minutes.

Add the chili powder, measured salt, oregano, cumin, cayenne, and cinnamon, stir to coat the turkey and vegetables, and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.

Add the tomatoes and their juices as well as the broth or stock, and beer, stir to combine, and bring to a simmer. Add the beans and return to a simmer. Reduce the heat to medium low, add the bay leaf, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the flavors meld, about 30 minutes. Even longer for more flavor. If after 45 minutes, the chili is too thin, I like to add a tablespoon of cornmeal to thicken, then simmer for another 15 minutes.

Remove the bay leaf. Taste and season with additional salt as needed. Serve with the cheese, avocado, scallions, sour cream, and chips, for topping.

Barefoot and Very Pregnant

December 31, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

It's New Year's Eve and instead of prepping for a night out with my husband after playing a sold-out show in Vegas, I'm home talking about soup. 37 weeks pregnant and not allowed to fly, talking about soup.

I am trying my hardest not to complain, but I've already done so in the first sentence of this post. So instead of sulking through this gorgeous day in L.A. I'm going to host a few friends and kids at our new house, pretend to get drunk and eat as much as I can stuff into my already full torso. The main benefit of pregnancy is the absolute lack of calorie-counting (not that I've ever been into calorie-counting) coupled with that whole, "growing a human" thing. But I must admit, at this point in my ten-month commitment of hosting an adorable parasite, it's extremely difficult to get comfortable… with anything.

But I can get down with this:

The great thing about soup is ease. I can't stay on my feet too long at this point, so throwing things in a pot and allowing heat to do the work is exactly the kind of cooking I've been into. I've yet to post from my new kitchen and all its perfect light, but that's what 2014 is for! So enjoy this last post from Pearlie's Malibu kitchen.

I recently made this Minestrone for my friend Linda's blog Urban Harvestand can't wait to see the edit of a day we spent together in my kitchen around the new house with the family, barefoot and very pregnant. I couldn't wait to share this recipe with you first though. Since it's so cold in Los Angeles, I know you must be craving soup, to accompany your evening, cuddled up by the fire with a hot-toddy and wool blanket while watching Groundhog Day. This Minestrone will get you through those 75 degree winter days in the grueling West Coast city.

You can easily make this soup vegetarian by eliminating the pancetta and throwing in some additional salt. Or substitute the pancetta for an alternate protein, if somehow you don't like pancetta, or like Linda, you're allergic to pork. The weight of the white beans provides a depth that can handle this massive blend of vegetables and broth. As noted in the recipe, I suggest blending half the white beans to thicken the soup and keep the remaining beans for texture. You can overnight soak dry beans, quick soak them, or use canned beans as well. I prefer the overnight soak, because I like making things more difficult for myself.

Whatever you do, make sure you toast some bread, spread soft butter on said bread, and shave parmesan over this bowl of winter heaven.

And most importantly have a safe, super fun, mind-alterting, hangover-inducing HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

White Bean and Pancetta Minestrone

adapted from Epicurious

Makes about 10 cups, serving 6-8

Ingredients:

1/2 lb (1 1/4 cups) dried white beans like Great Northern, picked over, rinsed
1/2 tsp salt 1/4 - 1/2 lb pancetta or lean sliced bacon, chopped
1/3 - 1/2 cup olive oil 3-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 onion, finely diced
2 carrots, 1/2 inch dice
2 ribs celery, 1/2 inch dice
2 medium zucchini, 1/2 inch dice
1/4 lb green beans, trimmed and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1/2 lb boiling potatoes
4 cups shredded Savoy cabbage
6 cups kale, rinsed, drained, stems discarded, leaves chopped
1 28 oz. can San Marzano peeled whole tomatoes
4 1/2 cups low salt chicken broth
1-2 bay leaves

Freshly grated parmesan, lightly toasted baguette or loaf

Directions:

Place white beans in large bowl and cover with water by two inches, let soak overnight, or quick soak, or use two cans beans.

Skip this step with canned beans. Drain and rinse white beans. In a saucepan, cover beans with water by two inches, adding more if necessary and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, uncovered and simmer for 45 minutes to an hour, until soft. Add salt and simmer for another five minutes. Remove from heat and let stand, uncovered.

In a large pot or heavy kettle cook the pancetta in oil over medium heat until crisp and golden. Add the onion, stir, cook until softened. Add the carrots, celery and garlic and cook, stirring for 4-5 minutes. Add the zucchini, green beans and potatoes, peeled and cut into a 3/4 inch dice, cook, stirring for 4-5 minutes. Add cabbage and kale, cook, stirring until cabbage has wilted. Add the broth and hand crush tomatoes over the mixture directly into the kettle. Be careful, they will explode! Do not add additional tomato sauce from can. The crushed tomatoes should be enough acid, flavor and color. Add bay leaves. Simmer the soup, covered, for at least 1 hour.

Drain the beans, but reserve the liquid. In a food processor or blender puree half the beans with 1 cup of the reserved liquid, and add puree to soup, along with remaining white beans. Simmer the soup for another 15-20 minutes uncovered. Add a little renaming liquid or broth if it needs to be thinned out. Season with salt and pepper. Remove bay leaves.

Serve soup with parmesan, toast and cut dried sausages if desired.

Soup can be made 3 days in advanced, covered and chilled. Will also freeze for 3 months.

Something in the air

November 14, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Ah, Southern Cali. We might not have the turning of the leaves or a first frost, but I swear, we do have Fall. The seasonal shift is ever so slight, but it is there. We get it right at the end of September.

Just as the days are getting shorter, the magical Santa Ana winds start up. They bring us that fresh air that the rest of the country so fondly relates to as fall. The gusts clear out the smog and bring us our version of a pure autumnal smell. Oh, I love that smell.

Then, we, Angelenos, get to babble on as though we are New Englanders…We talk about how stoked we are for fall…How we can’t wait for boots and sweaters...And, winter squash and roaring fires. The atmospheric aroma changes the days for us.

And, subsequently, it gets absurdly hot again. Then, Halloween arrives. Every Booby McGee (sorry Ms. Joplin) in the town is ret to go and it, rightfully, becomes “cold” for the night. Nipples at full mast. (I'm not going to lie, I’ve been known to do a little cleavage dance on All Hallow’s Eve, but for purely satirical and ironic reasons…I swear.) Cut to November, and it gets super hot again. Summer hot.

Perhaps we have a harder time transitioning between the seasons because the fall temperatures still lend themselves to peaches and snap peas, but that smell in the air is beckoning our taste buds towards the gourds and root vegetables that are taking over the farmer's tables at the markets? We’re trapped in a schizophrenic season / food transitional period. Stuck in the middle. While we're still seeing the red of the tomatoes, new shades of crimson, known as apples, are simultaneously resting at the vendor’s stands. Not quite ready for slow cooked stews and apple pies, we are primed to move on from hot weather produce delights.

Ultimately, the winds return bringing with them that natural air-perfume. Our Southern California hallmark of fall. Even if it is 80 something degrees outside, when the Santa Ana's blow back in for Thanksgiving, that “smell” always magically arrives just in time. And, we get our season.

Spaghetti Squash in Sage Browned Butter

*This is the perfect transitional winter squash dish for me. It makes me feel cozy and ready for the colder season, but it is still light enough to weather the heat that actually still exists outside. You can roast the squash whole, or cut it in half as I do. There is no right or wrong when making the decision. It mostly depends on whether you have a knife that is sharp enough to easily slice the spaghetti squash without hurting yourself.

What you’ll need:

1 Spaghetti Squash (3-4 lbs)
Olive oil for brushing (if cooking halved)
Course salt and freshly ground pepper
3 Tbs. unsalted butter
3 - 4 sage leaves, roughly chopped
A good grating of parmesan or pecorino cheese

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400.

Carefully slice spaghetti squash in half lengthwise. Scrape out the seeds. Brush with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place squash cut side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake for 45 minutes or until fork tender. If roasting whole, prick squash in several places. Allow an extra 15 to 30 minutes cooking time until it is soft to the touch.

Remove squash from oven. Let cool for about 10 minutes until easy to handle. Meanwhile, heat a small heavy bottomed sauté pan over medium heat. Add the butter. Once butter is melting, add chopped sage leaves. Allow the butter to cook until it turns a rich brown and has a nutty aroma. Watch it carefully. Be sure not to burn the butter. Once done, set off of heat.

When squash has cooled, scrape the flesh out with a fork into long strands. Place in a bowl or platter. Toss with the browned butter. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with grated parmesan or pecorino.

Makes 4 - 6 servings as a side dish. Or, 2 - 3 as a vegetarian main dish.

A Change of Season

November 2, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

It's November, and I'm talking about tomatoes. Probably because they're still damn good here in California. Maybe even more because I can't officially let go of summer without posting this delicious recipe. Daylight savings ends tomorrow, meaning less daylight (obviously) and (sadly) citrus. Fortunately the change of season is coupled with more knee-high boots and leggings, cozy sweaters and scarves.

It's strange how effortless time is passing lately. Even though I'm sad to see it pass, I'm also on the heels of a very stressful time in my life: Sam was gone on tour for months and is finally back; I've packed and moved from our home of ten years, while living with in-laws and commuting an hour each way to the city for school and work; I've finished a pitch package for an exciting new project while third trimester pregnant, chasing around a four-year-old; And, finally I've landed in November, where all the haze is defrosting from my strained eyes. November is my favorite month. My birthday month. Home.

We've had a strange sense of home the last two months, one that is slightly reminiscent of touring over 6 years ago… living out of a suitcase. Although I'm not sharing a janky hotel room with three other guys in a band, It's still difficult living unsettled.

Vesper helped me with a crust that sits right on top of the tomato mixture here… rolling it out beautifully on her grandmother's kitchen island like a baker. My trusty Kitchenaid mixer is in storage so I decided to brave hand-kneeding the dough. It was a cinch. The rye crustrecipe was a first for me and I don't regret it. This lovely tarte tatin is the last thing I'll be making in Pearly's kitchen while we've lived here in Malibu. Wanna know why??

It's official… we found a new house!!!! I can't wait to cook, photograph and eat in our new bright kitchen. I can't wait to hang with our friends who live in the area. I can't wait for you to come over, and join us for a drink (even though I can't really drink, but soon enough). For now, I'll have a Dill Cucumber Spritzer, you have a Moscow Mule.

So as we say goodbye to summer, even though it's been officially over for almost two weeks, whip up any remaining tomatoes for this treat either as a hefty side dish or light main dish. I added basil and ricotta, and mixed in a little lemon and balsamic vinegar for more flavor, but you could add more onion and garlic, different herbs, another kind of cheese… even sautéed vegetables if you like.

My favorite food blog, as it may be for many of you, is 101 cookbooks. I'm inspired not only by her photographs but by her vegetarian recipes, warm tone and curated sense of style and taste. I've bought several staples from her pop-up shop Quitokeeto, attempted to copy nearly all her recipes over the years, and simply indulged in a love affair with all things 101. This tarte tatin and accompanying rye crust are some of my favorites from her recipe box. If you have a well-used cast iron skillet, use it instead of a casserole deep dish or non-stick skillet.

Make sure you let it cool so when you cut it, so it somewhat stays in tact. Enjoy!

Tomato Tarte Tatin with Rye Crust

adapted directly from 101 cookbooks

Ingredients:

2 medium yellow onions, chopped
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil or clarified butter
1 1/2 pounds / 24 oz small tomatoes (here it's a mix of heirloom, cherry & early girls)
1/2 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp flour (or more for watery tomatoes)
zest of one lemon
1 pie crust, this rye crust, Heidi recommends
1 egg whisked with a tablespoon of water

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees

Heat a large skillet over medium heat to saute the onions and a couple pinches of salt in the oil/clarified butter. Cook, stirring regularly, until the onions are caramelized, 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat.

While the onions are cooking, cut any larger tomatoes in half. Leave the small cherry tomatoes whole. Add to the caramelized onions along with the sea salt and balsamic vinegar. Transfer to a 10 or 11-inch cast iron skillet or equivalent deep pie dish. If you get the sense that your tomatoes are quite juicy, and might release a lot of liquid, you can toss the mixture with a tablespoon or two of flour at this point. Sprinkle mixture with lemon zest.

Roll out your pie dough, and use it to cover the tomato mixture - tucking in the sides a bit. Brush the crust with the egg wash, cut a few decorative slits in the crust, and bake in the top third of the oven until the crust is deeply golden and the tomatoes are bubbling a bit at the sides, 25 - 35 minutes.

Serves 6-8.

Summertime Whiskey Ribs

October 8, 2013 Stephanie Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I try to never make the same mistake twice; a mistake like not preparing enough baby-back ribs during a summertime BBQ. A week ago, I went overboard, making six racks for ten people. Needless to say, we had leftovers, and no one was disappointed.

My recent rib obsession started back on Adina, where we used to live and cook, plan and party, eat and entertain; it was at Adina that I tried to perfect these ribs. In a relatively small kitchen with an oven sans vent, dwindling counter space and a crappy old grill... I managed to get it right. However, in this Malibu kitchen, food just tastes better. It's either the sunset, the crisp open air, or the endless space... I'm still undecided.

A while back, Sierra and I craved summertime dinner with our best friend Ari and my hubs Sam. What better napkin-tied-to-your-neck meal than Whisky Ribs with potato salad and butter leaf, radish, snap pea greens? Prefaced by either (or both) a Lemon Shandy or a Mint Julep?

No better.

There's nothing quite as satisfying for me as breaking bread with friends and family. Although, there was no bread on the table, we made do. A close second would be listening to the new Haimrecord, but that's beside the point. Except, you should totally go and buy it now. And third would be drinking an entire bottle of '89 Far Niente Cabernet, meaning I would no longer be pregnant, growing steadily larger by the minute.

Back to the ribs.

I'm from Tennessee, as you probably know by now. A rack of ribs is not far from my taste-buds' cravings... usually plated next to a rich, mayonnaise-heavy potato salad and cole slaw, slow-cooked bacon baked beans and buttery cornbread. But I now live in California. And after finding guilty pleasures in Almond Milk and Green Juice, I succumbed to the healthier potato salad option Sierra suggested, as well as a gorgeous butter lettuce salad with radishes, snap peas and ricotta salata... a perfect summer meal. Thank god I gave in, because I think I ate a whole rack that night... but who's counting?

I truly wish I had written this recipe. If I were a liar, even a good liar, I would attempt to pass this off as my own. But, of course, it's not true. This recipe is one part of many attempts to find my way around a kitchen, to perfect a quiet evening with dearest friends, to learn from other great cooks like Sierra. Scott Hibb, who is fortunate enough to claim this recipe, has won several awards for them and rightly so. So give him a high-five if you ever meet him.

The trick to these ribs is slow-baking them at 300 degrees in the oven for about 2 1/2 hours before grilling them, all while making a spicy-sweet BBQ sauce from scratch. You're cooking the ribs anyway; you might as well make the sauce while you're waiting. Get a grill nice and hot once you take them out of the oven and let them rest for at least ten minutes before grilling.

Place them directly on the grill, basting them on each side for only about 3-4 minutes, without burning them too much. A little char adds insanely good flavor.

Don't forget to raise your glass and toast to a job well done, a meal well made, and a night well shared.

*all photos courtesy of the lovely Christopher Wray-Mccann

Summertime Whiskey Ribs

*adapted directly from Scott Hibb's Whiskey Ribs

Ingredients:

Recipe makes 4 servings (1/2 rack per person)

2 (2 pound) slabs baby back pork ribs
1 tbsp ground red chili pepper (cayenne)
2 1/4 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 cup minced onion
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup tomato paste
1/2 cup white vinegar
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 1/2 tbsp honey
2 tbsp Worcestershire
2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
1 1/4 tsp liquid smoke
2 tsp whiskey (I use Jack Daniels)
2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp onion powder
1 tbsp dark molasses
1/2 tbsp dark red chili powder (I use way more, cause I like these spicy)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 300 degree F (150 degrees C).

Cut each full rack of ribs in half, so that you have 4 half racks (or have butcher cut for you). Sprinkle salt and pepper (more pepper than salt), and 1 tablespoon chile pepper over meat (or more for added spice). Wrap each half rack in aluminum foil. I place the ribs on a baking sheet, since the drippings will burn through the foil, causing excess smoke in oven. Bake for 2 1/2 hours.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Cook and stir the onions in oil for 5 minutes. Stir in water, tomato paste, vinegar, brown sugar, honey, and Worcestershire sauce. Season with 2 teaspoons salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, liquid smoke, whiskey, garlic powder, paprika, onion powder, dark molasses, and 1/2 tablespoon ground chile pepper. Bring mixture to a boil, then reduce heat. Simmer for 1 1/4 hours, uncovered, or until sauce thickens. I tend to leave the sauce going until about 15 minutes before the ribs are done. Remove from heat, and set sauce aside.

Preheat an outdoor grill for high heat.

Remove the ribs from the oven, and let stand 10 minutes. Remove the racks from the foil, and place on the grill. Grill the ribs for 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Brush sauce on the ribs while they're grilling, just before you serve them (adding it too early will burn it).

Pearly's Malibu Salads

September 13, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I’m not a fan of words and insinuations like “luck” or “blessed” but if there were better choices to describe my new living situation, I would use them.

After a rushed sale and escrow from our beloved home in L.A., we are currently living with my in-laws, and I can’t help but feel a certain tinge of misdirected embarrassment coupled with absolute cozy wonder: something I didn’t quite expect when we made the choice to post up here in Malibu while we shop for a new roof over our heads. I feel snubbed by my own nose, turned up at living the good life in a Nantucket paradise, fed by an angelic woman who prides herself on taking care of family.

When I’m in Malibu at the Farrar’s home, I feel like I’ve been working the fields all day, sweating from picking strawberries, fingers bleeding from thorny roses. I only feel this way because I’m fed like I deserve it. I”m fed like a farmer whose crop is vibrant and productive, and whose hard manual labor merits a farm-to-table rainbow of flavor and color. Pearly (or Captain), as we call Sam’s mother, is the Masterchef of Sweetwater Mesa. She is den mother, head-of-household, gardener, seamstress, elegant hostess... the glue of the family. And I thank my stars she took to me so many years ago. Not just for the salads, but still...

I lived my elementary years on Missionary Ridge in Chattanooga, TN, with a rope swing in my front yard hung directly next to a Civil War canon, which permanently rests just next to several sun-drenched blackberry bushes. The vine-canopied lunch spot next to a small (now) koi pond hovered over a concrete table with a matching Southern-style lazy-susan. I can still taste my mom’s award-winning (mainly in size) zucchini, corn and peppers brushed with homemade butter, served with filets from my grill-master father. That old stone house was built over two hundred years ago and is still as strong as any fortress I’ve ever seen. It was haunted too, as you can imagine. Just like the taste of the summer vegetables, I can still feel that friendly ghost in my closet.

Growing up with a sparse yet plentiful garden on a battlefield Ridge, I never thought a California beach town could ever produce such substance, such homely, good ‘ole times-like warmth, until I stumbled upon Pearly’s garden. I love that our little girl is just the right height to pick the hard-to-reach tomatoes, and that as she ruffles the leaves, that tomato scent I wish to bottle fills the air.

I love the brisk walk to the end of the property where the large, protected grow boxes flaunt peppers, tomatoes, onions, lettuces, dozens of herbs for dinner: lamb chops and mashed potatoes, simple greens. Just beyond the scarecrow, her neighbors are making honey, boasting several large Warre harvest boxes, full of bees. Pearl’s garden is just beneath the hives, so you can imagine how her harvest fares.

Greens with red onion and cranberries, Caprese

After all these years, I discovered the thing I like best about Pearly’s salad: control. The way she plates a salad gives the grazer full control of what she wants and doesn’t want, and how she wants to dress it. I tend to use more lettuce than necessary in my salads. The good stuff always ends up at the bottom of the bowl. But Pearly places all the ingredients on a flat platter, including the lettuce. She lets you decide what you add to your plate and how you dress it. You’re the boss. Just greens and dressing? Great, have at it. Throw in some grilled bacon wrapped bananas, warm bread and cheese, and a gamut of marinated olives and gherkins, you’ve got yourself a Pearly lunch.

Let yourself feel lucky... and keep counting those blessings.

Pearly’s Malibu Salad #1

Ingredients:

Nice handful arugula
Small bunch of bitter greens
Leaves of two mint stalks, chopped
6 oz sliced ham
6 oz sliced roasted turkey
2 plums, sliced
1 peach, sliced
6 oz sliced mozzarella cheese
2 large heirloom ttomatoes, sliced
1/2 red onion, chopped l
eaves of two basil stalks, chopped
10 snap peas, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
fresh warm crunchy bread
10 oz. jarlsberg cheese
pickled onions
tomato chutney
olive oil
white balsalmic vinegar
salt and pepper

Directions:

Layer the arugula, bitter greens and mint on a platter.

Roll ham and turkey, add to platter.

Place cut plums, peach, mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, red onion, peas, celery and carrots around the platter, creating a colorful array.

Serve sliced jarslburg with warm bread, chutney, onions... any salty addition you prefer.

Pile your favorites on a plate. Drizzle with oil and vinegar and season as you like.

Or don't. You're in control!

Simple Green

September 9, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

Fresh leafy lettuce. Red wine vinegar. Good olive oil. These are a few of my favorite things. I mean, if I'm being totally straight, I'm a salad junkie. I know, it's a cliche. L.A. girl likes lettuce. "I'll just have a salad and some water", says the lady to the waitress.

Seriously though, I'm crazy for the green crunchy stuff. Still, let's be clear, unless it's arugula, mache or frisee, I'm talking about real lettuce. The kind that can stand on it's own. Red leaf, green leaf, romaine, red oak, green oak, butter, and gem lettuce. None of these so-called "baby mixed greens". I've noticed that these tend to be people's base for a throw-whatever-you-feel-like-into-it salad. I can appreciate that there is a place for that somewhere, just not my somewhere. But, don't get me wrong, I wholly respect and hold in high regard the chopped Italian salad, a shaved summer vegetable salad, the rustic Greek, the elegant Caprese, and the classic Cobb (among others). Though, these, to me, are in an entree salad/side dish category all of their own. Nonetheless, when it comes to salad greens, I'm totally comfortable being called a purist snob.

I suppose, I could give people the benefit of the doubt, and assume that they've probably only had the run-of-the-mill super market stuff. So, in that case, by all means, load it up with peppers, nuts, berries, cheeses, carrots, meats, and thick creamy dressings. You have to cover up the nothing flavor of your "baby mixed greens". But, I swear to you, fresh farmer's market heads of the delicious leafy veggies are good on their own. Really good.

Outside of simple additions such as radicchio, watercress, endive, radishes, cucumbers, or tomatoes (only when they're good and in season…ok I'm snooty in this department too), honor thy lettuce.

Some sea salt, a simple vinaigrette, and a light tossing. Let it shine, don't bury it.

Simple Green Salad

What you'll need:

A couple of fresh heads of lettuce*
1/2 cup of good olive oil
1/3 cup of good red wine vinegar**
Sea salt

Directions:

Wash and spin or dry the lettuce. Tear into big bite size pieces. Place in serving bowl. Whisk together the olive oil and vinegar. Alternatively, pour olive oil and vinegar into a clean recycled jar, and shake. Add salt to taste. Pour the dressing over the lettuce and gently toss.

*Try different varieties while you're at the market. Discover for yourself which are your faves.

**Play around with the amount of olive oil to vinegar. Commonly, people use a 2:1 ratio. But, I like a particularly tangy vinaigrette. Furthermore, experiment with a white wine or champagne vinegar. Or, cut the vinegar in half and add a Tb. of dijon mustard.

Banana Bread and a 4-year-old

August 20, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

I despise waste. In all forms. Trash, food, time, energy. I abhor throwing trash in bins, food reaching any expiration date, spending time in traffic, visiting an acquaintance who can't pull away from her own selfishness. Lately, I just don't have the space. Every visit to the grocery store with Vesper is its own little trip, its own magical, colorful, exhausting parade around Studio City market folk. And without fail, we never leave without bananas in our basket. Or watermelon for that matter. Or popsicles. A coloring book. Shells with cheese. Honeycomb. US Weekly.

Ummm, wait I mean, kale, tofu, beans and Living Vegan. You know me!

Needless to say, it's rare we get through all the bananas before they begin to brown. They either end up in the freezer for smoothies or in a homemade banana bread. No waste!

We only have three short weeks left in our house, so I've been trying to cook in our kitchen with Vesper as often as possible. After nearly ten years in our 1100 square foot paradise, it's hard to say goodbye, even though we've been ready to move on for years, busting at the seams for additional room. After moving half our belongings out to stage the house for sale, I know now that a house isn't home without all your stuff. It's just reverb emptiness.

V is a great sifter. Any recipe which requires flour, baking soda, baking powder... various other dry goods, she's the best sous chef around. I am open to renting her out hourly. You pay me to babysit. Killer.

After you or your helper has sifted the dry goods, you've creamed your butter and eggs, mashed the nanners, spices and milk... it's just combine, and bake. Happy kid. Happy mom.

With another little one on the way, I'm anxious to set up a new kitchen, a new space, with as little wasted time and effort as possible. Banana Bread will remain a recurring mainstay in our bread basket. And just think, I'll have two sous chefs before long. I could start a restaurant right in my own home! (Please don't call child services. I am joking people).

Banana Bread

(from FoodNetwork.com)

Ingredients:

1 cup granulated sugar
8 tbsp (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 large eggs
3 ripe bananas
1 tbsp milk
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Butter a loaf pan. Cream the sugar and butter in a large mixing bowl until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.

In a small bowl, mash the bananas with a fork. Mix in the milk and cinnamon.

In another bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

Add the banana mixture to the creamed mixture and stir until combined.

Add dry ingredients, mixing just until flour disappears.

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 1 hour to 1 hour 10 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Set aside to cool on a rack for 15 minutes. Remove bread from pan, invert onto rack and cool completely before slicing.

Spread slices with honey, butter, cream cheese or serve with ice cream

Good Food

August 10, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

I have a standing date with Evan Kleiman on Saturday mornings at 11am. I imagine, so do most of you? For the hour that Good Food on KCRW airs, I'm completely in my comfort zone. Farmer's market profiles, recipes, food historians, the weekly anticipated Jonathan Gold review, I'm always enthralled.

As a native of L.A., Evan Kleiman also means Angeli Caffe, which means childhood comfort food to me. It opened in 1984 just a few blocks from my elementary school. The ever-popular modern trattoria on Melrose Avenue was a mainstay of my best friend's family. I remember many a night, pre sleepover, post long pool days, and definitely after school plays (we may have still been in our 4th grade "Fiddler on the Roof" make-up), devouring the Spaghetti alla Checca , and that bread…oh that bread.

Many years later and still close friends with her and her brother, we all rented a house together just down the street from Angeli. We regularly went together and with other friends. And, those many years later, the Checca was just as good. The elegant simplicity of both the restaurant and the food never failed to deliver. Though, in January of 2012, Evan Kleiman sadly decided to close Angeli's doors for good. I may never have that pizza dough bread again, but I'd be damned if I couldn't somehow replicate the Checca.

The true beauty of a checca is the ease of it. It's a raw sauce generally consisting of ripe summer tomatoes, garlic and basil. Chop, let macerate, and pour over perfectly al dente spaghetti. Still to this day, when I eat this dish, I can feel my 8 year old hot pink post pool/bike riding cheeks slurping up the spaghetti and searching for more of the melty mozzarella.

Spaghetti alla Checca

Influenced and adapted from Evan Kleiman's Angeli Caffe

What you'll need:

Lots of ripe tomatoes, chopped (about 2 pints cherry or 5-6 large)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 -1 cup of good extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
8 fresh basil leaves, gently torn
6-8 oz. fresh mozzarella, chopped and brought to room temperature
1 lb dried spaghetti

Directions:

In a large bowl, mix tomatoes, garlic, basil, salt, and pepper. Add enough olive oil to cover the tomato mixture. Let the sauce sit at room temperature for 2-3 hours.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of heavily salted boiling water. Trust the pasta experts here, take the pasta out 1 minute before the suggested time on the back of the package. You definitely want that al dente bite with this fresh sauce.

Pour pasta into a serving bowl. Top with mozzarella and tomato mixture, and quickly mix well to coat.

Makes 4-6 servings.

Apple, Manchego & Chives

August 4, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

My folks moved to Naples, Florida, an income tax-free state, almost a decade ago. They’ve always loved the water no matter where they've lived. I was basically raised on boats, in and out of galleys, heads, staterooms, pretending to learn port from starboard, bow from aft. We’re talking Tennessee River floating, slalom skiing, wave-running next to a nuclear facility. Not quite the California way of things. Not quite the peaceful, warm Gulf coast of Florida either.

It wasn’t a huge surprise when my parents made the move to the West coast of Florida to build their dream home on the water. It was time. They had braved the South long enough; it was time to enjoy all they had worked for. Unfortunately that great idea, building a dream home, took two years to complete and drained most of their stored enthusiasm for the Gulf Coast.

Years later, after completion and a resolving repose with staying put, my folks wear their Naples pride playfully. Naples more recently boasts dozens of amazing restaurants and watering holes, but is still anchored in the quiet, temperate Gulf. For the last few years we’ve visited for Thanksgiving, which is usually right around my birthday. And there is only one place I like to spend my birthday in Naples: Cafe Bar Lurcat.

There are three reasons why: 1. Great wine list 2. Fried rice topped with soft boiled egg 3. Apple, chive, manchego salad. So this week, I’m insisting Cafe Bar Lurcat comes to me. In Cali.

This is one of the easiest things you will ever make. And one of the most delicious. The apples and cheese so closely resemble each other, it’s hard to pick them apart. The only things which divide them are taste and the touch of green at the end of the apple stalk. The apples have that bitter, sweet lemon kick and the cheese is so salty and nutty it could kill anyone with a nut allergy. With the tiny crunch of chive and little kick from the pepper, your taste-buds will be pleased. I like to cut the apples last, since they brown so quickly. If you must cut them earlier, squeeze lemon over them, cover and refrigerate.

If you can believe it this salad can stay in the fridge for about a day or two, with the right amount of lemon to preserve. If you wanna follow this dish with the Pancetta Leek Fried Rice, you’ll have the closest meal to Lurcat since Lurcat. I mean really when are you ever going to Naples, Florida? Sorry Mom and Dad.

Apple, Manchego & Chive Salad

Ingredients:

2 Granny Smith Apples, cored and cut into matchsticks
6 oz manchego cheese, cut into matchsticks
2 tbsp chopped chives
2 tbsp olive oil
Juice on one lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

Using a mandolin, slice apples and cheese into the same width slices. Then cut each slice into matchsticks. Unless you have a mandolin with a julienne blade, then use that of course.

Combine all ingredients into a bowl and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Store covered in refrigerator for one to two days max.

The Tale of Two Trips, Part 2

August 3, 2013 French

By Sierra French Myerson

The maternal family pilgrimage…A trip we've talked about, and planned, and cancelled, and planned, and finally, made happen. My mom and her sister, our Auntie Gayle, were born in Kentucky, and my sister and I had never been. This was the trip for us to see where the family roots of of our mom's maternal side were planted, and to get a glimpse of the southern birthplace that still held a deep embrace for both my mom and her older sister.

The trip began in Michigan where Auntie Gayle lives. My cousin, Michelle, was getting married. A perfect kick-off celebration to get the journey going. It was a beautiful wedding, followed by a gorgeous sunset yacht ride along the river. The cousins, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles drank and danced the night away. We got the partying out of the way, and now we were ready for the road trip portion of the expedition.

Two days after the wedding, my mom, my sister, my aunt and I jumped in a rental SUV, and hit the road to Ashland, Kentucky. Granted, there was a gas station stop, an argument about a AAA drop by, and an electronic's store visit before we were officially on our way, but we were off. The car was packed and we were headed south-bound with my sister in the driver's seat, my mom in the passenger seat co-piloting, and my aunt and I in the back seat giggling like little kids. I'll save you all of the inner workings of a three state car ride with the four us, mostly because it was a memorable keep sake of a trip that I'd like to hold onto for myself, but it was an adventure to say the least.

Truthfully, I was very much looking forward to seeing all of the places that my mom held so dear to her heart: her grandparent's old house, the railroad line that her grandfather conducted, the graves of my ancestors, and the tree that she and her sister played under that still stood tall on the cul-de-sac street where they thrived. But, I was also, selfishly, really looking forward to the food. I had vowed to throw health, diet, and sanity out of the window so long as it welcomed biscuits and gravy, fried okra, grits, bbq, and pie…lots of fresh pie. I couldn't wait to walk the quaint small town streets stopping in one culinary mom n' pop establishment after another.

But, sadly, it was truly a foodstuffs tragedy. As with most industry in our vast country, the food seems to have dried up with it. Aside from a "French" restaurant off of Main Street that got rave reviews from the hotel manager (but was sincerely one of the worst meals I have ever eaten), the only place for us to eat was on the other side of town. Over the bridge lived the little bit of thriving business…a big box store, a mid level department store, and every chain restaurant you can imagine. And, though I was fiendish for southern treats, I in no way mean to come off as trite. It was a shattering discovery. I was certainly anticipating to see a depressed economy in the small town, but I did not expect an empty town. Every independent store front was vacant. Though, as we drove through the residential streets, life was still existing. Nice lives at that. Picturesque family homes, bikes in the drive ways, neighbors waving at one another, the works. A heartening atmosphere, really.

I just have to hope that behind all of the doors of the homes of Ashland, Kentucky, family's are still having their traditional Sunday dinners...sitting together around the table feasting on all of the southern fixings that have been passed down generation to generation. Those same dinners, that to this day, my mom and her sister can still taste.

Leftovers and Chicken Salad

August 1, 2013 Farrar

By Steph Farrar

My husband and I started a side musical project a few years ago called Bubble and Strife. Our anecdote: Husband and Wife. Husband and Strife. Bubble and Squeak. Bubble and Strife.

In short, Leftovers.

Sam was in a band for almost 15 years called Phantom Planet and I was in a band called Agent Sparks. Unfortunately both have disbanded and life has moved on, but the music is still out there... and will be forever. So in a sense the music never dies, even if you want it to.

After a few years of neither Sam nor I grazing a stage, we decided it was time to face that long-winded fear. We, leftovers of years of touring and making music, compiled a handful of original songs and covers and somehow pulled off a thirty-five minute set, opening for Ben Ottewell from Gomez. For our first show, it was pretty damn good... especially for new parents who were operating on little to no sleep at the time. It's now been over a year since our last show... that urge is coming upon us both again.

So on to leftovers. Do you ever buy rotisserie chickens from the market? I buy at least one a week, even if I plan to roast a whole one at some point during said week. It's nice to have around, especially with a picky kid-eater. Fried rice, chicken pasta with broccoli, minced lettuce cups, and definitely chicken salad.

Add whatever you have around, nuts, dried fruit, crunchy fruit

My first favorite way to enjoy leftovers is a schmorgesborg of whatever is in the fridge: chicken, carrots, celery with hummus, jarlsberg and brie cheeses with salami and crackers, a spicy mustard or fig dip, grapes, almonds, and always tons of olives.

My second favorite? Chicken salad. If the diced chicken is accompanied by a crunchy fruit and/or vegetable, dried fruit of some kind like cranberries or raisins, a nut of some sort, some herbs, a tiny dollup of mayo or yogurt, olive oil, salt and pepper... we'll eat the whole bowl in one sitting.

If I'm not daytime drinking wine, I'll always settle for a Pellegrino aranciata. The chicken salad doesn't even need bread, but if you have it and aren't on a starch-free fix, enjoy an italian or French loaf slice, even a cracker.

When you're done with your rotisserie chicken, don't trash it! Stick it in your slow cooker, add water, onion, celery, carrots, herbs, salt and pepper. Let it slow cook overnight, strain solids and bam... you'll have an incredible homemade chicken stock. Full recipe to come.

I'm proud of my leftovers. You should be too.

Chicken Salad with Cranberries, Apple, Toasted Walnuts

Ingredients:

1-2 lbs. diced rotisserie chicken
1/4 cup chopped red onion
1/2 cup toasted walnuts
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
1/4 cup dried cranberries or raisins
1/3 cup diced green apple
1/4 cup diced celery
2-3 tbsp mayo or greek yogurt
1/4 cup olive oil
Juice of one lemon
salt and pepper

*toast french loaf slices, top with olive oil, chicken salad, sliced avocado and arugula & season with salt and pepper

Directions:

Literally put everything in a nice size bowl and gently mix together.

Season with salt and pepper.

Enjoy as a salad, sandwich, or appetizer on a cracker

KitchenLit 101

Grilled Nectarines with Purple Beans

Braised Artichokes

Roasted Beets and Greens

Zucchini Noodles with Pulled Pork and Lime

Roasted Garlic Asparagus with Sunny Side Up Egg

Pure and Simple Cauliflower Soup

Herb-Nut Topping

A Super Bowl of Chili

White Bean and Pancetta Minestrone

Spaghetti Squash in Sage Browned Butter

Tomato Tarte Tatin with Rye Crust

Summertime Whiskey Ribs

Pearly’s Malibu Salad #1

Simple Green Salad

Banana Bread

Spaghetti alla Checca

Apple, Manchego & Chive Salad

Chicken Salad with Cranberries, Apple, Toasted Walnuts