kthread » cooking

cook to your cravings

Kristen Taylor — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 18:58:57 +0000

In further attempts to weather this winter, I have taken to reading historical cookbooks and nursing a craving for a sandwich I remember from childhood.

Foods for children are often named to highlight the sweetest ingredient, so Boston Brown Bread was introduced to me as “raisin bread,” but I liked the dark loaf for its color and weight, the way cream cheese tasted between the slices after a school day.

Traditionally, the bread is steamed in a coffee can for moistness; I found this pan version in Cook’s Illustrated’s Lost Recipes and spread local cream cheese across—and though I may not make baked beans next, this is a Northeastern recipe I respect.

Anyone else with me on Boston Brown Bread?

the beauty of leftovers

Kristen Taylor — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 15:05:27 +0000

Yesterday morning, I watched as the icicles from Wednesday’s storm melted,

and I thought about the snow ice cream (snow granita, really) that I made on Wednesday morning to top Belgian waffles and topped by kumquat syrup and candied slices of the same,

and the night before, of the linguine with sun-dried tomato pesto, escarole, olives, and roasted chicken,

that became lunch on the snow day, the pasta strands stirred with a few beaten eggs and cooked into a linguine frittata, a leftover I like perhaps even more than the original, with its added crunch and color.

Last weekend in Venice, California, I wandered with Laura and Vera into a small building filled with music and discovered The Leftover Cuties (here, doing a cover of “At Last”):

So I have been thinking about leftovers and things that carry over this week, the comfort in food that we make over and over.

I brought back asparagus from the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market that I roasted and dipped in homemade aioli,

and market avocados that I warmed in a tomato broth with leftover chicken in tortilla soup (recipe).

It’s a bit like residual wealth, finding new ways to reconstitute what I find as I rummage around the kitchen and through memories of what I’ve made before…

the shore, the yolks, and the brightness

Kristen Taylor — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 02:02:20 +0000

A few summers ago, my wonderful friend Jeannine and I found ourselves at Cakebread Cellars in Napa, and ever since I am reminded of our visit by e-mails from their resident chef with recipes tailored to the wines.

This recipe of roasted cauliflower with crab sneaks in a gremolata (parsley, garlic, and lemon zest) and has an addictive crunch with homemade breadcrumbs.

And as it doesn’t fall neatly in a course category, I think the recipe will be perfect for a Midsummer Night’s Dream party later in 2010—or, the next time someone feels my apartment is chilly and powers through it with my Snuggie (pictured: my friend Kevin).

This morning, I smiled at the sun and the orange yolks in my favorite breakfast egg preparation, eggs Maryland. My grandmother grew up on the Maryland shore, and I thought about her as I made the aioli to mix with breadcrumbs and crab for the cakes, then whisked a classic hollandaise sauce to make her proud.

Hollandaise in your own kitchen will taste deliciously of lemon and good butter, and the poached eggs will have yolks more orange than the sauce—these are from Evolutionary Organics at the Grand Army Plaza market—that spill out on top of the crab cakes and toasted crumpets.

I’ll fold the remaining crab into an omelette tomorrow morning and think back to the best eggs benedict I’ve ever had, this past summer in Great Barrington, when Emily and Jeremy made homemade crumpets and a Prosecco hollandaise with eggs from their chickens, just yards away at their Barking Dog Farm.

I’m daydreaming about that today and the day when they open their local butcher shop this year, which will be a cause for celebration (and an excellent reason to visit). Perhaps it is the bright yolks I need most right now to remind me that the sun will return…

what makes a nice dumpling

Kristen Taylor — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 23:42:32 +0000

I walked into my friend Winnie‘s apartment last Friday night to the sounds of dumpling creation.

Winnie explained why the dough should be thicker in the middle:

and the dough was busily being folded, crimped, and sealed.

There were food writers to recognize (including this former Gourmet staffer rocking a yellow apron),

lively shrimp,

and pans at the ready for dumpling magic.

The dumplings nestled close in their pans,

before the momentous flip and a tap.

And we all passed the scallion sauce and the beautiful dumplings along the long table of colorful plates.

I had to duck out of Winnie’s to head over to Kombit restaurant on Flatbush Ave in Brooklyn, meeting Daryn (not pictured), Dave, Jessica, and Nick for the energy of this Haitian gathering place—we were taken aback by the happy noise and prodigious amount of food.

Goat, pork, beans and rice, and sweet potato cakes are only part of the appeal—there was a band we had to try and talk over, a film crew, and a really nice sense of community at the bar and with the staff.

Saturday morning, I stopped to congratulate the Waffle Truck (@waffletruck) on their win over Bobby Flay during the week, and I ordered my usual: a Liège wafel with spekuloos.

Meeting up with my friend Jenne, she chose an Asia Dog from the Brooklyn Flea vendors after we had a Red Hook Lobster Pound roll, of course,

and someone from the new Milk Truck (@milktrucknyc) staff held their “classic with a twist” sandwich for me; with its champagne-soaked onions, two kinds of cheese, and homemade mustard, I cannot wait until their truck opens at month’s end.

For now, I’ll content myself with their sandwiches at the Brooklyn Flea near the new Greek food vendor, Anthi, who tempted me with his Galaktobounko. “It’s like flan,” he assured me; in fact, with a beautiful creme middle with a crispy baklava-like top and a soft dough on the bottom, it might be better. And it may have brought me luck as I happened upon a birthday party for a friend of a friend that night.

Sunday morning began with a blindfold walk with Rosie and Faris from Union Square to Times Square full of misadventures (adore these two) as a group of us meandered toward our destination with burgundy blindfolds and tentative steps crossing streets,

and continued with Jessica reading her honest poetry (“I want poets to have something at stake”) at Zinc Bar that night.

This afternoon, I cooked skate wing with the bone (it’s really cartilage, but referred to as “the bone”) in duck fat for a few minutes on each side, then reduced wine and thickened the reduction sauce with butter, before blooming capers to sprinkle atop the skate and the baby sprouts from Evolutionary Organics at the farmers’ market. I find a Gavi white wine perfect for this classic dish.

With newfound knowledge about dumpling dough, inspiration from visiting friends (it’s always so nice to see Dave) and their artistic proofs (Jessica, congratulations again on the reading, and Jenne, good luck as this MFA semester begins), I feel ready to begin the week…

why yes, I’d love another bacon swizzler

Kristen Taylor — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:00:23 +0000

Another of my resolutions (or intentions, as my friend Amanda, who you will meet below, frames them) is to spend more time with my friends in New York, and to let them school me in food here.

My friend Dean describes himself as a lover of tacos,

and his Bushwick neighborhood is full of options–I tried chorizo and lengua tacos last night (Dean lapped me with a carne one too, I think) at a place near his apartment. These tacos made the cut with Dean’s criteria of two corn tortillas on each; I’m looking forward to upcoming taco expeditions when the necessary longer walks are warmer.

Over beers we talked cultural divides and weather patterns, I was schooled in the differences between Bushwick and Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and you’ll see Dean’s apartment with its expansive kitchen the week after next here on kthread.

…

This summer, I was delighted to find out that my friends Amanda and Jordan were moving to New York, and they found a lovely apartment in the Village where they now freelance and rock out with their dog, Cosmo.

When the (truly, they are improv artists) dynamic duo lived in D.C., Amanda posted a series of “colossal” bagel sandwiches with a complicated Bloody Mary in the background—Jordan’s weekend tradition. Today at brunch I learned exactly how serious Jordan is about both:

Very.

That’s a bacon swizzler in this rich concoction. Many New Yorkers seek it, but I think I’ve found the best Bloody in Manhattan.

And I likely disappointed Jordan by not making it through this towering bagel sandwich of deliciousness, but I did so enjoy the lox from Russ & Daughters, cream and cheddar cheeses, bacon, turkey, egg, and radicchio.

Amanda led the toast to the new year and caught me up on her new interests and projects; we agreed that New York feels like a place that will help us to grow artistically and creatively.

When she launches her new projects, I’ll link to them here (her Creative DC blog was a wonderful resource for surfacing underground performances and events).

I thought my favorite thing Jordan said was, “Could I get you another bacon swizzler?” until he appeared with a plate of ginger cookies (I love when cookies sparkle) with bourbon cream cheese between.

This is a household that understands the art of the sandwich, and lucky for me, this household is now in New York.

Tonight, I may make a simple salad like the one late last night, with soft mache (lamb’s lettuce) leaves, scallions—for a subtle lemon hit, big crumbles of chevre, and crisp slices of local sunchokes (but then again, I do have fresh buttermilk from the butter I made this morning and bowl of purple potatoes that could be friends)…

spheres of influence

Kristen Taylor — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 13:34:14 +0000

I’ve been thinking about the different lifespans of items in my refrigerator, from the emergency frozen peas (nice as an ice pack and, in a pinch, as a vegetable side) to the rosy salmon roe that sneak into many dishes. In my kitchen, dairy is the great uniter, and so I made a cream sauce for smoked salmon, salmon roe, peas, pearl onions, fennel, and cladonia (miner’s lettuce) stirred into farfalle.

In the spring, I’ll use crunchy pea shoots and make fresh linguine for this dish. I like the play between the pearl onions, peas, and roe as far as size.

To make this: boil water, drop 1/2 lb of pasta, simmer 3/4 c of heavy cream for 5 min with 1/2 c sliced fennel, stir in 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter and 1/4 c of finely grated Parmesan. In the final two minutes of pasta boiling, drop into 1 c frozen peas and onions (if using), drain all together. Stir pasta into sauce, tear in 2 oz. smoked salmon in strips, season, plate with salmon roe and lettuce on top.

I find inspiration even at the winter markets, and yesterday morning, vendors were arranging root vegetables at Union Square. I found a beautiful bunch of baby fennel, sunchokes that I will scrub until they shine, those funny little bunches that mache grows in, and the mild Cladonia.

After work, I stopped by Brooklyn’s Mazzola Bakery for lard bread,

and this morning, I toasted the bread filled with little bits of salami, using the warm, crisp edges to carry soft scrambled eggs with orange yolks and spinach, a good beginning to the day…

pppsst: spsp (summer pesto squash pasta)

Kristen Taylor — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 13:47:07 +0000

Clever farmers’ market vendors like Evolutionary Organics hang informative, happy little signs introducing the small wonders within a given bin:

And so, yesterday in the rain, I had sunny squash in a pasta that’s friendly to additions—while farfalle cooked (the shape matches all those bow ties at summer weddings), I sautéed sliced squash (2 baby squash per person) over medium-high heat until blistered, then halved and added the cherry tomatoes still left (a handful), taking the pan off the heat.

Stir the al dente pasta into the mix, add pesto if you like (1 cup packed basil leaves, 1/3 cup pine nuts, 1/3 cup Parmesan, 1 clove garlic in a food processor, drizzling in 4 tablespoons of olive oil), and sneak in flaked tuna in olive oil to up the umami, if you like (I do).

The tomatoes will burst like water balloons in your mouth, and the pasta holds nicely into the afternoon should the clouds be swept away and a neighborhood block party beckon…

kthread cooks: eggs for Julia

Kristen Taylor — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 14:18:49 +0000

In honor of Julia, and for the PBS Tell Us Your Julia Story event (you can add your Julia story here) we are making eggs with cream. And I am happy to introduce you to my Brooklyn kitchen, the setting for future kthread cooks episodes. Though I cannot warble, these eggs sing the praises of a woman who labored over recipes to let everyone experience her joie de vivre.

You can skip my Julia monologuing, and begin by making mayonnaise by processing one egg for ten seconds, then slowly drizzling in 1 cup of vegetable oil while the machine is running. Add 1 teaspoon lemon juice and season to taste; it will keep for a week chilled. Then, dice mushrooms (I use black trumpet here) and cook with 1 teaspoon of oil on med-high heat until they release their juices—about 5 minutes. Remove from pan, turn heat to medium and add two eggs, whisked (reserve one eggshell), and a tablespoon of heavy cream; gently fold eggs until softly scrambled—2-3 minutes. Spoon eggs back into eggshell and then around it on the plate; serve with mayonnaise and with potatoes, if you like (I sautéed baby potatoes and amaranth leaves with garlic).

Bon appétit!

reading recommendation: My Life in France, Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme

listening recommendation: the snappy “French Chef” opening theme

dance recommendation: waltz for Julia and Paul

eggs for Julia wallpaper on Flickr

drink pairing: beer, your choice

salt recommendation: Fleur de sel, of course (kosher in a pinch)

Your Julia memories?

More kthread cooks episodes on this page and on the Vimeo channel.

gently boil for three minutes

Kristen Taylor — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 15:53:02 +0000

My friend Solana swept gracefully into my apartment last night with a bottle of red wine that (almost) bore her name—a very nice Santi Valpolicella Solane—and helped me finish rolling out fettuccine through the pasta machine I plan to use more often in Brooklyn.

Catching up on her recent travels (she journeys to places like Bangkok and Taipei), we spent a long time talking about the state of translation online, and this was after I was able to turn a tricky ingredient into something palatable.

Solana bravely tried the sautéed baby chanterelles and decided she does, sometimes, like mushrooms. We also stirred in baby leeks more slender than scallions (that have a flavor less sweet than ramps and closer to lemon) and corn browned in the pan along with a bit of butter and Parmesan.

As favorite dinner guests do, she soaped the dishes while we let chopped rhubarb simmer with sugar and I whipped cream to dollop on top. Solana told me we had made red porridge, inadvertently borrowing from her Danish culinary traditions, but it all seemed to make sense in this new kitchen where I am making new traditions…

intentional orecchiette

Kristen Taylor — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 03:20:16 +0000

My friend Kevin ordered orecchiette by accident a few weeks ago at an Italian restaurant, mistaking it for a stuffed pasta shape (agnolotti, likely), and this morning food minimalist Mark Bittman posted a recipe on his NYT blog for a frittata heavy on the vegetables, light on the eggs.

Tonight, both decisions informed an orecchiette I made, heavy on the vegetables, light on the pasta. This pasta shape pairs with a green vegetable, so rainbow chard and baby bok choy provided the color, with chopped onion cooked until translucent in the rendered bacon fat and Parmesan rounding out the dish.

Orecchiette means “little ears,” and this time in the summer we can really listen to fresh corn—not popping, but lined up in pearly rows of yellow and ivory—the scraped kernels find their way inside the pasta shells. For balance, I ladled a little fennel confit on top and, instead of a sauce, I stirred in a bit of butter I made earlier this week, for something heavy on the simplicity…

crisply, on a holiday weekend

Kristen Taylor — Sun, 24 May 2009 21:13:17 +0000

I always crave seafood on summer weekends, and this afternoon I sautéed a soft-shell crab in lard to top roasted red potatoes with pesto.

(Flour the crab, tap off excess, fry in two tablespoons of fat on high heat for two minutes a side.)

Tempted to make pesto from whatever green winks at me in the kitchen, sprouted sunflower greens (about a cup) with a few walnuts, an eighth of a cup of parmesan, one clove of garlic, and two tablespoons olive oil became a mild paste stirred into warm potatoes.

And the bits left in the pan sizzled with the browning butter that I poured over the crab, sprinkled with Sel Gris, and picked up, letting the juice run down my arm and onto the potatoes that are best eaten without a fork in the sunshine…

grilled cheese appreciation week: cheddar thursday

Kristen Taylor — Fri, 01 May 2009 03:30:37 +0000

We begin with the edges of classic grilled cheese with cheddar on pane toscano for the last day of Grilled Cheese Month.

And the crunchy crusts that I like very brown (the butter makes for lacy sides).

It glints a little too,

and stands, dramatically, waiting for next year’s celebrations (we’ll return to it before then, though)…

grilled cheese appreciation week: fol epi wednesday

Kristen Taylor — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 17:33:52 +0000

The ideal food for a rainy afternoon, grilled cheese appreciation week continues with fol epi—a slightly sweeter cheese with a toasted wheat rind played up with a whole wheat pain au levain and crunchy fennel on the side.

I’d pair this with a Sazerac on a Wednesday—

grilled cheese appreciation week: fontina tuesday

Kristen Taylor — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 00:07:23 +0000

Fontina is a flexible cheese—by which I mean that kind of friend who rolls with time changes in plans and adapts beautifully to almost any situation.

Between thick slices of sourdough, with sautéed shallots, here is Tuesday night dinner—

grilled cheese appreciation week: comté monday

Kristen Taylor — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 18:00:05 +0000

I find “national” [food theme here] month designations incredibly arbitrary, but a deep appreciation for grilled cheese compels me to share a few of my favorite combinations this last week of the honorary month.

Happy Monday with Comté, a classic, nutty unpasteurized cow’s milk fromage—

Shine on, crunchy edges…