Summer Potluck

Here's hoping the rainstorm clears out so I can enjoy the longest day of the year by staying outside until the sun goes down. Summer is officially here, though I feel like I've been enjoying it for a good month now. I've been embarking on weekly adventures, usually via bicycle, with friends. Last Friday, we ended up looking out on the city from atop this abandoned railroad bridge that spans the Missouri River. Downtown was lit up and airplanes landed overhead while we sipped a PBR. Life isn't always that good.

Saturday, Amanda and I threw a summer potluck. We pushed the table back and welcomed scads of food to the buffet. I made way too much of this chipotle white bean dish, and now our fridge is as packed with food as our apartment was with people. I didn't get to try all the food because I was full by 8:15 (when only two people were at our house). Sean brought kimbab and homemade kimchi (which was never opened), the Wagenknechts brought a couscous salad and a summer cocktail. There were blueberry brownies, and Adam's cookies weren't gone by the end of the party, but they are now. Amanda threw together a lemony pasta. We had a variety of dips, crackers and beer. A summer storm brewed overhead, and friends talked, ate and played music until nearly 2 a.m.

In making the chipotle beans, I got to try out a few new things: making dried beans, cooking with queso fresca and using adobo sauce. I was a little nervous about the dried beans; Amanda said they take forever to cook. These great northerns were actually fine, and if I ever have the foresight to presoak some beans again, I would. Queso fresca is amazing. I've had it before in Latino soups before but had never bought it plain. It's like feta but creamier and less salty. I used it in three recipes this weekend--this may be the summer of Mexican. I bought canned chipotle peppers for this recipe and ended up using those beauts in an egg cassarole (with queso fresca obviously). Good.

Chipotle White Beans: from 101 Cookbooks

1 pound white beans

1 bunch kale, chopped

Tomato Sauce:

olive oil

1 large clove garlic, diced

1 teapsoon red pepper flakes

salt

1 15-ounce can crushed tomatoes

1 1/2 tablespoons adobo sauce from a can of chipotle peppers

1 teapsoon dried oregano

Cilantro Pesto:

1/3 cup cilantro

1 clove garlic

1/3 cup olive oil

1 cup breadcrumbs toasted in olive oil

Soak the beans according to directions for your specific brand of beans. Place beans in a pot of water (with water one inch above the beans and with the lid cracked), bring to a boil and then reduce heat to a simmer and cook until the beans are tender. Remove from heat once cooked through and salt the bean broth. Let sit for 10 minutes and then drain.

Meanwhile, make the tomato sauce and then the cilantro pesto. Saute the garlic, red pepper flakes and salt in olive oil for one minute. Add the tomatoes and oregano. Bring to a simmer then remove from heat. Stir in the adobo sauce. Taste and season with more sauce or more salt if needed.

In a food processor, pulse the garlic and the cilantro. While the processor is running, add the olive oil until you have a smooth paste.

Preheat the oven to 425. In a fireproof pan, toss the beans, tomato sauce and chopped kale together. Top with crumbled queso fresca. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the cheese has browned ever so slightly and the beans on the top of the pot have crispy skins. Serve garnished with bread crumbs, cilantro pesto and more cheese.

Suffering Succotash

Thus continues my education in the strange, edible (and nutritious) of God's creation. I found these cranberry beans at the last SoWa Market in Boston over the weekend. I have never seen these beans before live and in person (and I only just saw them once on David Lebovitz's blog pretty recently, so don't feel bad if you think I splashed paint on regular bean pods and made this blog post up). Apparently, they're similar to lima beans--I wouldn't know because my mom never ever ever made us beans when we were kids, except in chili. Probably the only thing she doesn't like are beans (of pretty much any kind but especialy of the lima variety).

And unfortunately for my future children, I totally botched up the beautiful cranberry beans while trying to make a flavorful succotash. My kids-in-the-far-off-abstract-future will never have the joy of eating these beans (in all likelihood)--they probably won't mind, just a guess. Plus who would want to date/marry me? Potentials probably read this blog are like, "Oh my gosh, I'm dating a girl who regularly makes beets, weird eggplant dishes and meals with crazy-colored beans! Not a steak in sight! Get me outta here!" Well, my future-love, it may not be good, but it will not be boring.

The vendor at the market recommended the succotash, and I got way excited about recreating a meal I had at the Boiler Room. Except I am an amateur with little-to-no experience with fresh beans and less than an hour to cook my meal. I just went all crazy, sauteing the beans in butter, tossing in the corn, then some green onions, then, sure, I've got some green peppers, let's put that in there, too. And I just bought some bacon, let's top it off with some crispy, fatty strips. Hmm, we're missing a bit of flavor, I think this needs some garlic. Still not enough, let's make it Indian and throw in some cumin, coriander, pakrika and turmeric. And let's get crazy now--Louisiana Hot Sauce!

But things only got bad when I decided to use corn starch instead of cream as a thickener, all sorts of crazy, middle-school-type chemical reactions happened in the course of five minutes. Corn starch with cold water, it's the sort of thing I don't measure. I'm sure everyone did this experiment with corn startch and water in school at some point to test the qualities of a liquid and a solid. So I was having fun, stirring in more water, then too much water, then more corn starch, then too much corn starch, until I had what I thought would work to thicken the succotash. I poured the solid-liquid into my simmering pot--the following chemical reaction was decidedly in the "solid" category. Some of the corn starch combined with the succotash to make a nice gravy consistency, but some adhered to chunks of corn and bean. Not good. And I was in such a hurry to make it to an adventure club meeting (coolest) that I just couldn't wait for the beans to be cooked all the way through. I saved the remaining succotash in a tupperware container, even though I know I'll never finish it--I AM A HORRIBLE WASTER OF LEFTOVERS.

The succotash turned out fine, though I will critique myself and say I overdid the flavor and should have just let it be with garlic, green onion, salt and pepper. Alas, I am not as experienced/talented as Paul Kulik at the Boiler Room.

How You Should Make Your Succotash:
1 tablespoon butter
1 pound cranberry beans (or lima beans, if you're boring)
1/2 cup corn
1 scallion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 green pepper, chopped
1 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup cream
salt and pepper to taste
optional: topped with bacon or other cured meat

Melt the butter on medium heat in a skillet. Saute beans, corn, scallions and garlic until scallions are tender. Toss in the green peppers and saute for another minute or two. Pour in chicken stock, bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer. The beans will take a good 20 to 25 minutes to cook through. Stock will reduce, then thicken with cream and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve topped with bacon for extra goodness.

Fall Soup in Summer

I realize now may not be the best time of year for a hot soup, particularly one that features butternut squash. But this soup, dios mio, my favorite ever. The recipe is tweaked from one on 101 Cookbooks, always reliable. I tend to think of cooking and even baking as a creative activity on line with writing, painting and music. But it's so easy to create a new dish by just tweaking one or two ingredients, it almost doesn't seem fair. Change is the natural progression of a recipe. Each person puts their imprint on lasagna, they pass it on and the next person makes a tweak here and there. There are infinitessimal ways to make one single meal. In that way cooking is like language. (Allow me to put my nerd glasses on.) Change and creativity are what I absolutely love about language. Living language is always in flux, adding new words, dropping old ones. There are a million and one ways to communicate what would amount to the same utterance, and each person does it differently, and (even more fascinating) each culture does it differently. There are rules to language (and cooking), we know the rules and then we break them. It's beautiful. This all got me to thinking about creative process. I mean, there's not much creative energy in substituting Holly's adzuki beans with cannellinis, and the only reason why I did it was because I didn't have adzukis. I tend to think of anything creative as something that requires a lot of energy. But maybe that's completely false. I think creativity can be simple. Look at "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," for example. That is a song we sing to children. It's a simple tune, but it's lovely. The original Mozart diddy goes off on a much more complex tirade, but the melody is still there. I think we make creativity into something impossible. I hear things all the time like "I could never paint that." Sure, you can't paint that, but you can paint something. Along the same lines, I wonder how much of the truly creative, original stuff is born out of necessity. I tend to think of creativity springing from a wealth of money, love, happiness and time. But maybe it really springs from depravity.

Enough of my high-brow tangent. All you really want is the recipe.

Cannellini Butternut Squash Soup: 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon coriander 1 teapsoon dried red pepper flakes 1 teapsoon salt 1 onion, diced 3 cloves garlic, diced 2 cups butternut squash, peeled and chopped 3 cups chicken stock 1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes 1 15-ounce can rinsed cannellini beans In a medium skillet, heat oil on medium heat. Saute cinnamon, coriander, pepper flakes and salt for a few minutes. Toss in the onion, and saute until translucent. Add the garlic and squash, stir to coat with oil and then add the stock. Bring to a boil, reduce and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes until squash softens a bit. Using a potato masher or a large fork, break up the squash a bit. It doesn't have to be a puree, just a little less chunky. Add the tomatoes and cook for a couple minutes. Then add the beans. Continue simmering for about 5 minutes. Season to taste with salt and spices. Serves 4.

Guest Chef: Maria

I love when I don't feel much like cooking and Maria sends me photos and recipes. She must know when I'm uninspired or when it's so freaking cold I don't want to step outside. (I need a good soup, and this one looks pretty good.) So here's another dispatch from Maria. A few days ago I was stuck with that age-old question, what should I make for dinner? I assessed what I had in my pantry and fridge and decided to Google "squash and white beans" (Ed note: I never thought of that, such a good idea.) That's my fall back when I don't have a meal planned and only have random ingrediants. I came across this soup from Marth Stewart (never really felt one way or the other about Martha--don't tell my mom that, Maria). I didn't have celery, onion, diced tomatoes or leaf-shaped cookie cutters (who does). However, I did have the broth, squash, and beans. To make up for the onion, I added some frozen onion and bell pepper mix (frozen veggies aren't as good as fresh, but they keep longer and are cheaper, says the poor grad student). While digging around my freezer I realized I still had some containers of frozen leftover turkey from Thanksgiving (Woah, Maria). I'm not a big turkey fan so I just never got around to using it. We stuffed our turkey with spinach pesto so I figured it would taste good. I dumped it all in a pot (kind of following Martha's directions) and it turned out great. My boring bread was toasted and buttered and square-shaped. Ed. note: I actually think Maria's soup looks better than the photo of Martha's soup, frozen veggies aside (we all do it). Squash and White Bean Soup: 3 tablespoons olive oil 1 celery stalk, strings removed, cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 1/2 cup) 1 medium onion, diced (about 1 cup) 1 garlic clove, minced 1 1/2 pounds (about 2 cups) butternut squash, peeled and seeded, fleshcut into 3/4-inch cubes 1 cup canned diced tomatoes, drained (optional) 4 cups low-sodium canned beef broth 4 thin slices sandwich bread 1 cup canned great northern white beans, rinsed and drained Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a medium pot over medium heat until hot but not smoking. Add celery; cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Add onion and garlic; saute, stirring occasionally, until softened, 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in squash and tomatoes; cook until liquid has evaporated, about 5 minutes. Add broth; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; simmer until squash is tender, 18 to 20 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Use a leaf-shape cutter to cutleaves from bread (Martha is freaking ridiculous, just toast and butter it); arrange on a baking sheet. Brush with remaining tablespoon oil; bake until just golden, about 10 minutes. Add beans to pot, and cook until they are warmed through, about 2 to 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. If you want to thicken this soup, I would recommend using corn starch with cold water and adding it while the soup is simmering. If you want to throw in turkey, like Maria did, I would throw it in with the squash if it's already been cooked and just before the veggies if uncooked. Or, if it's not boneless, you could throw it in with water and do up some old-fashioned turkey broth. I think the tomatoes are totally skippable on this recipe. So-so canned to tomatoes would add an acidity that won't pair well with the savory squash.

Black Bean Soup With a Kick

I stinking love how easy soups can be. I came home from work and pretty much just threw a bunch of crap in a pot, let it simmer for 20 minutes and had a meal. I stuck pretty closely to the Gourmet recipe on this one, with one modification: no jalepenos. Ever since my former roommate (Rebecca) made salsa from scratch and burned her hands on the jalapenos I've been a bit uneasy about dealing with the hot pepper. I know the seeds are the killers, but still. I have a thing against stuff that is so spicy you can't taste anything but the heat. I substituted a bit of cayenne pepper, which, as it turns out, is only slightly less hazardous. I sprinkled some of the red pepper into the soup and leaned in to take a whiff of the cumin and chili powder sweltering in the pot and completely inhaled the cayenne pepper. It coated the inside of my nose, my sinuses and all the way back to my throat. Woah! I coughed, sneezed and ran for some water. Fortunately the burn only lasts a minute, unlike Rebecca's jalapeno burn (which lasted all night)--seriously people, be careful with the hot peppers. Black Bean Soup: 1/2 medium onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1/4 cup green pepper, (duh) chopped 1 russet potato, chopped 2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil dash salt dash cayenne (aka red) pepper (a little goes a long way here) 1 1/4 teaspoon chili powder 1 1/4 teaspoon cumin 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano 2 15-ounce cans black beans, rinsed 3 cups vegetable or chicken stock 1 bay leaf optional: grated cheese (colby, jack, cheddar) Add oil to 5-quart pot on med/high heat. Saute potatoes for a couple minutes, then add onions, peppers and garlic (mmm, garlic) on med/high heat until onions are lightly browned. Add spices, salt and pepper while the vegetables are sauteing (carefully). Add beans, stock and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes. Blend 1 cup of soup mixture in food processor or blender (genius trick to thicken bean soups, works every time). Use caution when transferring hot liquids. Reheat, if necessary. Serve (I highly recommend using cheese).

Italian Chili

I'm not much of a planner when it comes to dinner. I have a hankering (good word, eh) for something and then I make it, with or without all the ingredients. Sometimes it works out spectacularly, sometimes not. I was without proper supplies twice last weekend, once when I attempted a baguette (baking is just not my thing right now) and once when I made this soup. With the baguette, we only had wheat flour, and the bread turned out really dense (I am telling you, it was the flour!). For the soup, I made an extra run to my new favorite grocer, Wohlner's, to get pancetta from their superb meat counter but didn't realize I only had one can of kidney beans and no parmasan cheese. Instead of improvising with cannellini beans (which I have done before), I ran to the (slightly ghetto) No Frills down the street. There is no substitute for parmasan cheese. This recipe is another reason I love love love Giada di Laurentiis. It is flipping amazing. Salty, savory. For the skeptics (dad), I call it Italian chili, because it is pretty hearty.

(I do hate this photo, please trust that it tastes much much better than it looks)

Pasta e fagioli alla Giada:

1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 cup chopped onion 3 ounces pancetta (or bacon) 1 garlic clove, diced 5 4/3 cups chicken stock 2 15-ounce cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed 1 bay leaf 1 teaspoon dry thyme (or to taste) 1 teaspoon dry rosemary (or to taste) 3/4 cup elbow macaroni Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add the onion, pancetta and garlic and saute until the onion is tender (3 minutes). Add the broth, beans and herbs. Bring to a boil then simmer and cover until vegetables are tender (10 minutes). Puree 1 cup of the bean mixture in a food processor (this part is super important, I thought it was skippable, but it thickens the soup. Even my food processor can handle it). Return puree to mixture. Bring soup to a boil and add macaroni. With the lid on boil until macaroni is soft (8 minutes). Season with salt, pepper and parmasan cheese.