I love the Barefoot Contessa the way some women love chocolate. To me, she can do no wrong. I mean the woman can build a charcoal grill, grow herbs without killing them and drink while cooking without, apparently, getting drunk. If that’s not rock star material, I don’t know what is.
As of late, I’ve had a number of friends confide, either directly to me or via their entire friend network on Facebook, that they can’t cook.
It’s hot. No, not the soup. San Diego. We’re talking summer time hot! Yesterday Gonzo Girl’s soccer practice was canceled due to excessive heat (which was a relief, really, because I didn’t want either of us to roast in that heat). So a soup recipe makes all the sense in the world, right?!
This tasty little treat seriously rocks my Casbah. Why? So sweet and delicious, it’s hard to believe it’s fruit and not some sugar-laden delicacy. Using my beloved Ninja, I created this protein-packed blend by tossing in an overly-ripe pluot, some fresh-frozen strawberry ice cubes, the juice of half a lime and one scoop of vanilla protein powder (you could use 1 cup of vanilla or plain non-fat yogurt here, adding water to thin, if needed).
Cooking with parchment paper is yet another one of those things that intrigued and intimidated me at the same time. The idea that I could put paper into the oven without it catching on fire was, I admit, somewhat perplexing. But not nearly as mystifying as where one can actually buy parchment paper.
The baking aisle at the grocery store overwhelms me (as does anything mildly related to baking), and while I assume I could find it there, I’ve never tried. My other loves, Trader Joe’s and Costco, were equally unhelpful. So I did what any home cook with no idea what she’s doing would do. I headed over to Williams-Sonoma.
I love Williams-Sonoma and all that it represents; that is to say that with the proper (albeit overpriced) equipment, the home cook can do anything. And on the day I bought the parchment paper, I also went home with a rolling pin (which I’ve used to make pizza), a slip mat (ditto) and an adorable but still-in-the-box Build-A-Bear cake pan (which may be coming soon to a craigslist.org listing near you). Oh, and the parchment paper, which I used to create a rich, luscious, yet somehow rather low-fat fish that won rave reviews in a limited (okay, two-person) survey.
Every source I consulted for this recipe has the cook cutting the parchment paper into a heart shape, all with a cute note reminding you, the reader, of how you did this in grade school. True or not, I somehow can’t imagine my Gonzo husband, or any red-blooded American male for that matter, voluntarily cutting out hearts prior to cooking a firm fish fillet. To my way of thinking, it’s a rather silly step that only complicates an otherwise simple technique. So in the interest of appealing to ease over cutesiness, I have omitted anything that requires safety scissors. If you feel I’ve denied you the pleasure of channeling your fourth-grade self, by all means, make a heart.
For the rest of us, just cut a large rectangle, approximately 12×15 inches, for each serving. You’ll then fold that in half, place the fish to the side of the fold (I worked on the right side of the fold, you do what you want). Sprinkle the remaining ingredients over the fish (I used tilapia, you could try any white fish or, if you’re feeling fancy, tuna or salmon), fold over the edges until you’ve created a packet of the entire thing and off it goes to the oven.
And there you have it: A self-steaming meal that is amazingly easy; so easy, in fact, that it could basically become your go-to meal on nights when you’re too tired to cook, but not in the mood for cereal (you know who you are).
This dish is so delicious that my Gonzo husband and I merely stared at each other the entire time we were eating, and at the end of each bite exclaimed, “I can’t believe how good this is.” Variations on that sentiment include adding such exclamations as, “really!” “oh my God!” and, quite simply, “wow.”
And that’s the alchemy of cooking. Take simple, low-fat ingredients and an easy technique, and you’ve got something that, to me at least, rivals the buttery goodness of Sole Meuniere, with none of the fat, guilt or midnight Tums that accompanies mass quantities of butter.
You can serve these golden packets of fish directly at the table if you’d like for an impressive presentation.
4 fish fillets, 5-6 oz. each
4 tbl. fresh basil, chopped
2 tsp. fresh parsley or dill or rosemary
kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 large tomato, sliced
1 lemon, juiced, then sliced (retain juice)
4 sprigs of fresh rosemary (or use the remainder of your fresh herbs)
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. Prepare your fresh ingredients.
3. Prepare the parchment paper by cutting four 12×15-inch rectangles and folding each in half.
4. Start by opening the parchment paper and placing a single fillet to the side of the fold.
5. Sprinkle with a tablespoon of basil, a ½ teaspoon of parsley or dill, a pinch of salt & pepper and a teaspoon or two of lemon juice.
6. Layer the fish with a few slices each of tomato and lemon. Place a rosemary sprig on top.
7. Create a packet of the fish by starting at the top end of the rectangle and folding over the edges two or three times until you’ve formed a sealed packet.
8. Repeat with the remaining fish fillets.
9. Position the packets on a baking sheet so there’s no overlap; bake for 15-20 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fillets (thicker fillets needs more time in the oven).
10. The packets will puff up and become a delicate toasted brown. Taking care to avoid the steam, open a packet to test the fish; using the tongs of a fork, see if the fish flakes easily, indicating doneness.
Adapted from Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites.
I just finished rereading Judith Jones’ charming memoir, The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food. Her conviction that we continue to cook, even if we’re the only one at the dinner table, inspired me to pull out an old Moosewood Collective cookbook and whip up this tasty little pasta (carb cravings!), Penne with Creamy Walnut Sauce.
This cookbook, Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites, was one of – if not the – first cookbook I ever bought for myself. This was in the late ’90’s, during my low-fat cooking craze, and while my other low-fat cookbooks from those days now grace the shelves of the local Goodwill, this one has stayed with me throughout the years.
Growing up, I was a picky eater (aren’t we all?). So imagine my surprise when I found a dish that I liked, but my husband didn’t. Not only that, but my mother and step-father, who love everything, really couldn’t stand this one. That’s not to say it isn’t good, it’s just different I suppose, but in a fabulous way.
The cottage cheese, which on its own I will not eat, becomes a rich, creamy shroud rendered green by the vibrant fresh spinach that’s lightly steamed before processing. The fresh garlic, hidden in this bite, but maybe not that one, gives a punch every so often. And the walnuts add a crunch and earthiness to complete the taste, one of my favorites when I’ve got to have carbs and spaghetti with simple tomato sauce won’t do.
But back to Mrs. Jones. For years, this was my go-to dish when my husband was out of town, something of a treat for myself after a long day at work (it’s super-fast to whip up). So when he told me he’d be home late the other night I raced to the market and grabbed fresh spinach, a tub of cottage cheese and a nice zinfandel to go with it (purists may scoff at this wine pairing; let them). Et voila! A luxurious, simple dinner for one, with a toast to Mrs. Jones.
10 oz. fresh spinach
½ cup walnuts, chopped
2 cups low-fat cottage cheese
1 garlic clove, minced
¼ cup Parmesan cheese, grated
¼ cup fresh basil, chopped
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. freshly ground pepper
1 lb. gluten-free rotini (or other short pasta)
Adapted from Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites.
My relationship with hummus is relatively new. It all started about four years ago, when I was living in Tucson and just starting to embrace all the wonder that is Trader Joe’s. I was shopping with my friend Kitty one day and she fell on a tub of TJ’s Mediterranean Hummus as if it were lost gold. When I casually mentioned that I’d never tried hummus, she grabbed a second one and tossed it into my cart.
“This one’s the best. Ever,” she told me.
And how right she was. Until now.
But first, a little more backstory. I’ve held grand intentions of making my own hummus for six or seven months now, convinced that it would be super easy to make (it is). But Trader Joe’s doesn’t carry tahini, which meant another belabored trip to the natural food market (the reason I love TJ’s, aside from the products, is the efficiency of it all; natural food markets tend to lack said quality). Eventually, however, I mustered up the courage to walk the aisles of Jimbo’s, where I found the tahini tucked next to the organic almond butter. I grabbed a few cans of garbanzo beans for good measure, and out the door I went.
Turns out, my conviction went out the door as well: the tahini and garbanzo beans languished in my pantry, forgotten or occasionally pushed aside to make room for other, apparently more enticing canned items.
Then, yesterday, as I thumbed through the latest issue of Women’s Health while at little GG’s swim class, I came across the Q&A Hot Dish column with Ellie Krieger, who provided what she called a simple recipe for homemade hummus. So simple, in fact, that it was barely a paragraph as much as a breath of knowledge. And I thought, okay, girl, bring it!
Back at home, fortified by a wee bit of red wine and a post-dinner lull, I foraged about in my pantry for the lost ingredients of this simple appetizer. That the tahini was past the expiration date was no matter; I was going to make hummus, come hell or high water.
Oh, Ellie, how simple it was! In less than three minutes I was happily dipping TJ’s baby carrots into my very own handmade, past-expiration hummus. And it was delish, definitely the best ever. Try it for yourself.
1 clove garlic, chopped
15-oz can garbanzo beans (drained & rinsed)
2 tbsp. tahini
2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsp. lemon juice (fresh is best, bottled will work in a pinch)
2-3 tbsp. of water
½ tsp. ground cumin
½ tsp. kosher salt
Combine all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until combined and smooth, adding more water, if needed, for a thinner end result.
Serve with pita chips or a vegetable crudité.
Inspired by a recipe by Ellie Krieger.
Little Gonzo Girl loves pizza; veggies? Not so much. So even though I’d (somewhat) mastered the art of take out pizza at home, she still wasn’t biting. Until now.
Subbing out pepperoni for the veggies, while less healthy, is still a far superior solution to pizza that comes home in a box. This also has the much appreciate added benefit of little GG being able to make most of this dish on her own. You go girl!
(I also wanted to mention that this reheats perfectly well the next day – I popped it in the toaster oven, right on the rack. My husband, however, reports that it does not do well the next day as cold pizza.)
Gluten-free update: I’m currently using Cup4Cup pizza crust mix with great success.
1 pkg whole wheat pizza dough
¼ cup cornmeal
1 cup marinara sauce
5-6 oz. pepperoni
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1. Heat the oven to 500 degrees; turn it on at least an hour before you begin. A hot oven is critical to getting a super crispy crust.
2. Remove the dough from the fridge and let sit on the counter, covered, for about 20-30 minutes.
3. Sprinkle cornmeal (not flour, which is absorbed into the dough) over your work surface. Using a rolling pin, roll out the dough into a circle. As the circle grows, pick up the dough and use your closed fists to stretch the dough out even further. Place dough on a baking sheet or 12” round pizza pan – spritz with olive or canola oil first.
4. Spread the marinara sauce over the dough, leaving an inch or so at the edge of the pie.
5. Layer the pepperoni over the sauce; the more, the merrier!
6. Sprinkle the cheese on last. (Resist the temptation to add more cheese – the ingredients will shine on their own, and you’ll keep the calories down.)
7. Bake for 7 minutes on the pizza tray, then gently move the pie from the tray to the oven rack.
8. Bake for an additional 5-7 minutes, until the cheese is melting and the crust begins to brown.
GG note: You definitely need a real pizza pan, one with holes in the bottom to allow the heat to circulate. Don’t try it on a baking sheet. Let’s just say, lesson learned.
This is a tale of a girl who bought green tomatoes—unripe! overly firm!— and turned a mess into a masterpiece. But let’s begin at the beginning.