kthread » cook

conducting your own experiment

Kristen Taylor — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 12:04:18 +0000

I met my lovely friend Holly (she has a wonderful food site, Sustainable Suppers, with interviews, podcasts, and recipes) at the new Sandolab yesterday afternoon.

While I determined how I would “conduct [my] own experiment,” she tried the house slaw, as brightly colored as South Beach and slightly tangy. Like a house salad or wine, house slaw might be the measure of a sandwich shop.

I trusted this maker to with his choice of provolone for my experiment, and he told us how his grandmother’s fork always circles his wrist:

Not needing forks after the slaw, Holly and I talked of serious food connections as we picked up our sandwiches—renegade dairy rumors, the current focus of Miami food scenesters, and how to construct a life in this tropical place with artistry and intention.

And last night, the experimentation continued at the cottage, as I spread all the vegetables on the kitchen counter as possibilities:

Deciding against twisting utensils into jewelry, I ordered the materials and began adding colors to the pan.

First, the green and white of chopped leeks, then the brown and beige of thick Maitake slices; next, green and yellow squash semicircles, stems of rainbow chard and their leafy tops, kale, crimson tomatoes, and, finally, garlic chives joined the quodlibet.

Crowned with crisp, crenellated edges of Maitake (appropriately, as the mushroom may fortify the body and prevent disease) and a few drops of Tamari, the plate proved the hypothesis that local vegetables grown together need only a gentle stir and medium heat to combine into a dinner (like yesterday’s lunch) that bears repeating—

kthread cooks: chess pie

Kristen Taylor — Sun, 25 Jan 2009 14:01:31 +0000

On Wednesday, I was in New York for about seven hours (it’s a nice day trip from Miami), warming my hands with cider from the Union Square Market and later, sipping hot chocolate with my friend Adnaan (pictures and video of both below). Adnaan and I talked about cities and travel, prompting me to pull Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities off the bookshelf later that night. In the book, Marco Polo and Kublai Khan stretch the fabric of the cities in Khan’s empire and play chess.

Still thinking about chess on Friday, National Pie Day (I’ve extended this to International Pie Weekend), chess pie seems most appropriate this year. Thank you Aaron, Laura, Amanda, Lauren, Mica, John, Jessica, Elia, Nina, Ben, Brian, and Lisa for all the thoughtful pie suggestions as I wondered what kind to make—promise that we’ll make them all here on kthread in time.

For now, allow me to share my secret Chess Pie recipe with a filling that crackles with mystery in whatever city and season it is baked:

Recipe: Make pie crust (RLB’s perfect cream cheese crust recipe below), line pie dish. Crimp edges, prick with fork. Bake the empty crust for 10 minutes if desired. Then, whisk three eggs + one yolk in bowl. Add 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour, 1 tablespoon cornmeal, 1/2 cup white sugar (or appropriate substitute), 1/2 cup light brown sugar (or appropriate substitute), 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, 1-2 tablespoons citrus zest (of your choice). Whisk. Add 1/4 cup buttermilk, 1/4 cup melted and cooled unsalted butter, 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar, 2 teaspoons vanilla extract, 2 tablespoons of citrus juice. Whisk. Pour into crust. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes, then 20ish minutes (start checking at 20) at 300 degrees. Take out to cool when the center is just set. Pie will firm as it sets. Garnish with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

for the crust: Rose Levy Berenbaum’s perfect cream cheese pie crust (pdf)

strong reading recommendation: Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino

listening recommendation: Time (The Revelator), Gillian Welch and David Rawlings

chess pie wallpaper on Flickr

drink pairing: buttermilk straight, if you can handle it

salt recommendation: (kosher within the recipe)

And this is the citrus stand at the Coral Gables Farmers’ Market where I bought the excellent honeybells:

I’ll try to take video next week of the lovely woman who told me that her father only brings citrus from his grove to this market and has been doing so for the past eighteen years. I also really like the vendors who had swiss chard so small it can be eaten raw, like rainbow lettuce:

Apples were the spectrum of color at the Union Square market on Wednesday,

and there were as many types of cider (apple, pear, with cloves, without),

but this Adnaan clip is unique and makes me laugh (he knows better than to give me video I can use). The Takeaway is quite lucky to have him as their Web Editor:

No matter where and how I travel, I am grateful for friends that help me navigate the paths in, around, and through cityscapes—until I return to the Magic Cottage, where if you look quickly, you just may catch a leaf dancing behind you…

kthread cooks: pepita pesto and roasted squash

Kristen Taylor — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 13:00:36 +0000

In Mexico: One Plate at a Time, Rick Bayless tells us that hard squashes are prized for their seeds, which are used to thicken soups and sauces as well as provide protein. I’m thinking of my sister Kat, who is a vegetarian, with this recipe; I like to make dishes especially for her during this time of year. Pumpkin seeds—usually called pepitas once toasted—base this pesto that can be stirred into grains, thinned into a dressing, or accent other squash.

And the pesto is like all of Thanksgiving should be, I think: earthy, cognizant of the actual traditions of the people who lived in this geographic region, and wholesome. Here’s to all of you cooking in camaraderie and the pursuit of nourishment next week–

Recipe: [for 4] Dice 2 delicata squash (or peel and dice other hard squash) ~ 2 cups / 460 grams. Peel and halve 20 pearl onions (or as many as you like); spread squash and onions on baking sheet, toss with 1 tbsp olive oil, roast at 425 degrees F / 218 C for 20-30 min until browned and gorgeous. Meanwhile, toast 1/2 cup / 115 g unroasted, unsalted pumpkin seeds in dry pan over medium until they pop. Cool. In food processor, make pesto: with machine running, drop in 2 cloves garlic (green stem removed), then cooled seeds (pepitas), then 1/2 cup / 115 g chopped parsley, then 4 tbsp olive oil until desired consistency. Stir half of pesto into roasted squash and onions, season; serve with additional pesto on top (can also grate a hard cheese like Parmesan or Pecorino over, but it’s not necessary).

listening recommendation: Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, “Earth Hymn” from my friend Jordan’s delightful music blog

reading recommendation: In the Time of the Butterflies, Julia Alvarez

pepita pesto wallpaper on Flickr

drink pairing: an (also) earthy red (Merlot or Pinot Noir)

salt recommendation: Sel Gris

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My friend Jessica and I used the rest of the pesto over vegetables from the first week of the Bee Heaven Farm CSA this afternoon. Here’s what was in the box:

And Jess knitted,

while the breeze swung the door of the magic cottage to and fro; as the bok choy browned, I pondered how best to employ the rest of the abundance of green not in the pasta:

A serene Saturday assured me that much of the enjoyment of cooking is the company we keep in the kitchen, and I am looking forward to more tables in the next week filled with people I love to cook with and for…