Lentil and Chickpea Salad

I turn a lot of desserts out of this kitchen.  Cookies and cakes, pies and pastries, ice cream and brownies.  But we do eat dinner every night, I promise.  And I pack our lunches everyday.  While we do believe in dessert at pretty much every meal, it is my responsibility to make sure we eat from other food groups as well.

It's easy to get excited about a new cake.  It's not all that often that a salad comes along that makes you really excited about lentils and chickpeas.  But it happens occasionally, and this is that salad.  I know how it sounds.  When you ask, "What's for dinner?", you are a little disappointed when the answer is "lentil and chickpea salad."  That's the name of something you eat because you're supposed to; it's what you suffer through to get to dessert.

The only way to change your mind is to make you eat this.  I'll wait.  When you get back to me, I'll feign surprise when you tell me this is the best salad you've ever had.  You might even have seconds instead of dessert.  Probably not, but you might.

 

Lentil and Chickpea Salad

Serves 4

For the lentils:

1 c green lentils

2 cloves garlic, halved

2 springs sage

2 T olive oil

For the dressing:

2 t coriander

1 t cumin

salt

2 T tahini

1/4 c lemon juice

2 T olive oil

For the rest:

1 3/4 c chickpeas, either from a can or cooked and drained

1 small red onion, thinly sliced

1/4 c feta

1 1/2 T sesame seeds

Put the lentils, garlic, sage, and olive oil in a small pot with 2 cups water.  Bring to a simmer over medium heat.  Turn the heat to low and cook until lentils are tender, about 30 minutes.  Add more water as needed.  Let cool, and discard the sage and garlic.

Mix coriander, cumin, and salt together.  Combine tahini, lemon juice, and olive oil with 1 teaspoon of the spice mixture.  Stir well and taste, adjusting as needed.

Toss lentils, chickpeas, and red onion with dressing.  Top with feta, sesame seeds, and remaining spice mixture.  

Blackberry Hand Pies

Perhaps one of the least fulfilled food requests around these parts is pie.  My wife loves pie, and while I generally go on a pie bender in the autumn, I'm just not captivated by the whole concept.  It's quite a bit of work for dessert, when really I just want to be cramming chocolate in my mouth.

Especially now that we are (temporarily) a household of two, I cannot justify keeping a pie around.  She will certainly eat a lot of it, but my wife may not be able to polish off an entire pie by herself before it begins to lose its charm.  And there's nothing worse than spending hours on a dish, only to see it rot away in the fridge.

Enter the hand pie.  I can fulfill my wife's pie requests with minimal work, and I can make only as many as she will be able to reasonably eat.  Not to mention they are adorable.  I have a soft spot for adorable food.  

I had a friend growing up who loved those cherry hand pies made by Hostess, which probably were 0% cherry.  If we were hanging out downtown, she would often pick one up at the local food market and eat it slowly and lovingly.  This gorgeous little pies remind me of those, except they share basically nothing.  Where those were fake, these are all real.  And while you might eat them lovingly, I doubt you will be able to eat them slowly.  

Blackberry Hand Pies
Makes 12

3/4 lb blackberries
1 large apple, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 T cornmeal
1/4 t cinnamon
1/4 c sugar

1 batch dough for a double-crust pie
1 T milk

Cook blackberries, apple, cornmeal, cinnamon, and 6 tablespoons sugar in a saucepan over medium heat.  Stir frequently until mixture boils and thickens, about 5 minutes.  Cool.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Line baking sheets with parchment paper.

Roll dough to a 3/4 inch thickness.  Cut into 5 inch squares.  Place heaping tablespoons of filling in the middle of each square, and moisten the edges of the dough with milk.  Fold over to form triangles, pressing to seal.  Brush pies with milk and sprinkle remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar over them.

Bake in batches until golden, abut 30 minutes.

Creme Eggs

I never got the allure of these eggs, but Sarah loves them.  You know the ones.  They appear at Easter, chocolate eggs that ooze a yellow yolk and white middle when you bite into them.  As soon as they started appearing in stores, Sarah wanted to buy them up, happily licking the sugary filling from the chocolate shell.

I may not be an Easter candy kind of guy, but I am the kind of guy who likes a cooking challenge.  And this is a cooking challenge if there ever was one.  Making these eggs is messy, and it's time consuming, and it's frustrating.  But when you bite into one and see that perfect yellow yolk encased in its white, it's all worth it.

These are, as cookie monster is fond of saying, a sometimes food.  They are basically sugar surrounded by more sugar.  But at least I know my homemade version is made from real ingredients, as opposed to who knows what is in the Cadbury ones, so I can feel a little better about my pregnant wife indulging.  These are also only a sometimes food as I will not be making them everyday, meticulously rolling tiny balls together, drenching my kitchen in chocolate, and cursing myself for starting down this road.

Thankfully Easter comes once a year, and we would hardly have an excuse to make these at any other time.  Although I am sure Sarah could think one up.  

Creme Eggs
Makes 15 eggs

1/2 c honey
6 T butter, softened
1/2 t salt
squeeze orange juice
1 t vanilla
3 c powdered sugar
yellow food coloring
12 oz chocolate chips

Whip honey, butter, and salt together.  Once smooth, add a few squeezes from an orange half and the vanilla.  Slowly add the powdered sugar.  Mix until completely smooth, scraping down the bowl.

Remove a third of the mixture to dye yellow.  Use as much food coloring as you like to get your desired color.  Cover both bowls with plastic wrap, and place is the freezer for at least 15 minutes.

Remove the bowl of yellow mixture from the freezer.  Roll into small balls with about half a teaspoon of mixture.  Place balls on a plate, and return to freezer.

Now remove the white mixture from the freezer and form large balls with about a teaspoon of mixture.  Let chill in freezer again for a few minutes.

Make an indent in each white, as if you are making thumbprint cookies.  Place a yellow ball in each indent, and then roll everything together to keep the yolk inside.  Gently form into an egg shape.  Freeze while you melt your chocolate.

Now it gets messy.  Temper your chocolate, and dip your eggs however you deem best.  If you want smooth eggs with no flat side, use a toothpick (or a piece of spaghetti, like I did), and then stand your toothpicks up in something (like a sweet potato) to let the chocolate harden.  If you're not so concerned, you can just place the eggs on a wax paper lined plate.

Let chocolate harden before eating.

Chocolate Matzo Brittle

It's been a few years since I made the sensible eating during Passover decree.  I banished matzo pizzas and lasagnas, cookies and cakes made with matzo meal (although there are several flourless cakes and cookies that have made the cut), and anything that claims to be a noodle.  Since building our Passover meals around fresh fruits and vegetables (including lots and lots of sweet potatoes), eggs, milk, yogurt, nuts, quinoa, fish, and meat, the holiday hasn't seemed like eight days of sacrifice.

So I might leave the boxes of matzo on the shelf when I go shopping for the week, but I don't.  I place one lone box in my cart, destined to become the two dishes worth making with the flat bread: matzo brei and this brittle.

Matzo brei is easy, and it would't be Passover without it.  Just soften two sheets of crumbled matzo under cold water for 15 seconds, fry it up in plenty of butter, and pour some eggs beaten with milk, salt, and sugar over the whole thing.  Scramble it up and top with apple sauce or honey, and you've got a breakfast of which your Bube would be proud.

But if you want to blow your dear old Jewish grandmother out of the water, this is what you do with matzo.  While I could make this with crackers any old day, I make sure to save it for Passover; otherwise, it's not quite so special (and Passover isn't quite so fun).  But the day I get that box of matzo, I rush to my kitchen to boil up some caramel, and I don't stop eating this stuff all week long.  It brings me to tears.  It is the highest honor you can bestow upon that humble little matzo.

I always make it with butter; that's just how I roll.  But since many Passover meals are meat based, you might wish to swap out the butter for some margarine to make it parve.  I won't tell you how to make it, but I will tell you that you must go make it right this minute.

Chocolate Matzo Brittle
Makes about 20 pieces

3 sheets plain matzo
1/2 c butter
1/2 c brown sugar
pinch salt
1/2 t vanilla extract (omit if you can't find vanilla extract for Passover)
1/2 c chocolate chips
optional toppings (nuts, sea salt, etc.)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with foil, making sure to turn up the edges to prevent spills.  Place the sheets of matzo on the baking sheet.

In a small pan, melt butter with brown sugar, and cook over medium heat, stirring until mixture is beginning to boil.  Boil for 3 minutes, stirring constantly.  Remove from heat, and add salt and vanilla, if using.  Pour over matzo, spreading to cover completely.

Make the matzo for 15 minutes, making sure the sugar does not begin to burn.  If it does, lower the heat to 325 degrees.

Remove from oven and immediately sprinkle chocolate chips on top of matzo.  They will begin to melt.  After 5 minutes, spread with a spatula to cover the matzo.

If you are using toppings, sprinkle them over the chocolate.  Walnuts are great, and sea salt is very sophisticated, but you can't go wrong with plain, either.

Let cool completely (I speed it up by throwing the matzo in the freezer), and then break into pieces.  It will keep for a week, but trust me, it won't.

Sweet Potato Kugel Cupcakes

It's that time of year.  We gather around the table to recall our journey from Egypt, and we spend eight days without the company of grains.  Yes, Passover is here, and it blows through like a tornado of which we had no warning (even though we knew it was coming).

We have been telling the same story for centuries (millenia!), asking the same questions, and singing the same silly songs.  And we've been serving the same roast chicken, brisket, tzimmes, and kugel for about as long.  But we Jews like to shake things up.  There are as many haggadot these days as you could hope for, ranging from your traditional to your feminist, your social action-y and your environmentalist, you children's coloring books and your guides to finding inner peace.  It's just about time for a new kugel.

I didn't make any crazy changes to the classic; after all, it's a dish that's hard to improve.  But I did sneak some zucchini in there for a touch of spring (and health), make the switch from white potatoes to sweet, and bake them up in muffin tins so that every serving would have the scrumptious crispy edge that is the hallmark of every kugel.

They'll be well-received whether you're attending a four hour marathon sedar or a five minute finger puppet version.  As long as you tell the story, you've had a sedar, and as long as someone brings a kugel, you can't go wrong.

Sweet Potato Kugel Cupcakes
Makes 24

2 large sweet potatoes
1 small zucchini
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 eggs
1/4 c vegetable or olive oil
1 sheet matzo, crumbled (or 1/4 c matzo meal)
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Grate potatoes and zucchini into a bowl.

Beat eggs, oil, and matzo together, and stir into the potato mixture.  Season with salt and pepper.

Grease two muffin tins.  Scoop spoonfuls of kugel mixture into each pan, filling to the top, and pressing down to flatten.  Try to avoid too much liquid; if you need to, drain the mixture before continuing.

Bake for 40-50 minutes, or until crispy around the edges.  Let cool slightly before prying from the tins.  Serve hot or at room temperature.  If you are having a milk meal, you could top with some yogurt or sour cream, but I found them delicious plain.

Chorizo Scrambled Eggs

My sister-in-law, who is currently away in Michigan but lived with us for two years previously, has very predictable eating habits.  Like her sister, who has a bowl of cereal, a glass of orange juice, and a mug of black tea every single morning, Emily also has the same breakfast each day.  Their breakfasts just happen to be polar opposites.  Each morning, Emily scrambles up two eggs and tops them with cheese and two pieces of salami.

We've been taking a page from Emily's book recently, filling up our plates with eggs and meat more often than grains and pasta.  And when I wanted a quick, cheap dinner to throw together the other night, I couldn't help but come up with a dish that is pure Emily.  Because if there's anything she loves more than salami, it's chorizo.

Chorizo is a smoked sausage with a distinctive bright red color.  (Spanish chorizo usually gets that color from paprika, while Mexican chorizo contains lots of chili.)  It makes for a delicious meat that is also the filling of Emily's favorite quesadilla.  And because it has such an intense flavor, using chorizo in a dish requires fewer additional ingredients, resulting in a meal you can pull together in one pan in less time that it would take to order a burrito.  

Chorizo Scrambed Eggs

Serves 2

1 T coconut oil or butter
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
1 red pepper, diced
1/2 lb chorizo, crumbled
4 eggs
salt and pepper
cilantro, for serving
salsa or hot sauce, for serving

Melt coconut oil or butter in a large skillet over medium heat.  When hot, add onions and sautee until soft and translucent.  Add red pepper and chorizo, and cook until chrorizo is crispy and pepper has softened.

Beat eggs with salt and pepper, and pour into skillet.  Gently use a wooden spoon to scramble eggs as they cook.

Serve topped with fresh salsa or hot sauce and cilantro, if you can stand it.

Lamb Stuffed Zucchini Boats

When we first moved out to Berkeley, my wife and I bought half a lamb.  That thing sat in the freezer for so many months; I think we just barely used up the last of it before we moved for a second time.  Turns out it's pretty hard for two people to eat half an animal, even a small one.  What do you do with a whole leg of lamb?  A lamb shoulder is enormous.  And don't get me started on the neck; how many recipes do you think there are for lamb neck?

So, we may have eaten our fill of lamb for a while.  But I like to sneak it back into our diet occasionally. For one thing, it's an extremely flavorful meat, meaning that I can use just a little bit to get a big effect.  Like in this recipe, I only used half a pound, letting the coconut milk and spices really take center stage.  And for another, I refuse to get stuck in a chicken and beef rut.  I am a reformed vegetarian, but I still don't cook with meat all that often.  So when I do, I make it count and don't just broil up some dry chicken breasts.  Especially now, with a self-imposed high-protein diet (since my wife is fairly convinced she will get gestational diabetes), I'm cooking meat more often and trying to make it more interesting.

I love stuffing vegetables, as does much of the world.  I have a cookbook that has an entire chapter called "Stuffed", which contains stuffed eggplants, onions, tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms and, of course, zucchini. It allows your vegetables to get some recognition, not just play second fiddle to a meaty main dish.  A ripe, sweet zucchini can certainly hold its own, and in this case, it holds much more than that.

Lamb Stuffed Zucchini Boats
Serves 2-4

2 large zucchinis
salt
1 t coconut oil
handful diced green onions
1/2 lb ground lamb
1 T curry powder
1/2 t cumin
1 t garam masala
pinch cayenne pepper
1 can coconut milk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Slice zucchinis in half lengthwise, and scoop out the middles, forming four boats.  Chop up and save the insides.

Sprinkle zucchini halves with salt, and microwave for 3 minutes, or until soft.

Melt coconut oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add onion, and saute until starting to brown.  Add lamb, and cook until browned.   

Add the zucchini insides to the skillet, and cook until softened, a few more minutes.  Add spices, and continue to cook until fragrant.

Pour in coconut milk, and stir.  Bring to a boil, and then simmer.  Continue simmering for 10 minutes, or until the sauce begins to thicken.

Place the zucchini halves on a lined baking sheet.  Fill each boat with the lamb and coconut milk mixture.  Bake for 15 minutes, and serve hot.