The Wonderful World of Salad

I recently had a request (that's right, I'm kind of a big deal) to post some recipes on the site that are quick and translate well into the following day's lunch. My first thought was, "What do I eat for lunch?" The answer is almost invariably, "Salad." But before you give up and stop reading, hear me out. I'm not talking about the lifeless, near-green iceberg lettuce of your corner deli or the prepackaged, preprocessed meats and cheeses in your average lunch facility. I'm talking about a legitimate mid-day meal that is satisfying, and allows you to really enjoy foods in their natural state.  In fact, I used to get excited when David would be gone during dinner so I could just make myself a salad. I got tired of waiting for him to have plans, so I started making him eat salads too. David actually now loves salad night. I hope I haven't just impugned his manhood. 

The thing that makes salad a great lunch meal is that it can be prepared in no time, even the night before, and stashed in your work fridge until you're ready for it. I even have some tricks for making it perfectly portable, and some serious strategy about how to make this concoction your own. Don't worry, there will be lunch-friendly posts in the future. But before I get in the kitchen, here's something to hold you over.  

Ok, making a really good salad. As I see it, there are 6, maybe 7, components (I told you there was strategy):

1. The Lettuce -- you have many, many options on this front. I am a simple girl, and I almost always go with romaine. I find it is crunchy and substantial enough to make me feel like I just had lunch, not the precursor to what should be lunch. Green and red leaf are too soft for this purpose; those mesclun mixes, watercress, and arugula--while they have their places--do not a meal make.  Baby spinach, on the other hand, can be quite substantial. 
2. The Vegetables -- this is where you get creative. Anything that can be eaten raw can go on a salad. Anything that must be cooked, can be cooked ahead of time and put on a salad. For me, this is always dependent on what lurks in our vegetable drawer. I like at least 3–4 different vegetables at a time. Also grains are good ... got some leftover barley or wheat berries? Toss them in! 
3. The Sweet/Juicy -- an important element of the overall equation. I like to add at least one item to the salad that brightens it up, maybe it's tomatoes, maybe it's apple, pear, or plum chunks, maybe it's raisins or other dried fruit. 
4. The Cheese -- cheese adds a soft, creamy note to the party. (Warning, life-lecture impending) Do me a favor and buy real cheese. This means that, instead of the 8-oz block of factory cheddar, maybe you choose the 4-oz gouda with herbs. Make a choice to purchase quality over quantity in your food, when possible. Not only will you be sophisticating your palette, you will be encouraging the production of small-batch cheeses, and you're less likely to pound through it mindlessly if it's dearer to your wallet. 
5. The Kick -- onions, usually, or peppers. I like thinly sliced red or green onions. And always, always salt and pepper. 
6. The Protein (optional) -- if I have leftover meat in the fridge or something that really needs to be cooked (and can be done quickly), I'll usually throw it on. Nuts and beans are good choices here, or a hard-boiled egg, which makes an appearance on many of my salads. 
7. The Dressing -- Keep 2 types of dressing on hand: a vinegar-base and a creamy one. You can even make these yourself. That way, no matter what your vegetable drawer spits at you, the resulting salad with have an appropriate dressing. Also stash different kinds of vinegars (as well as lemons) for an easy splash.  

Now, the combination of above items can be tricky, especially when the dressing shows up. Take care, and learn what you like. Trial and error is likely, but you'll get the hang of it. If it helps, think of regions: Classic Americana (tomato, cucumber, celery, cheddar, ranch), Californian (apples, walnuts, green onions, blue cheese); Asian (carrots, edamame, cabbage, green onions, rice vinegar); Italian (tomatoes, peppers, feta or parmesan, vinaigrette); Mexican (carrots, corn, black beans, onions, monty jack, cilantro); vaguely European (potatoes, green beans, hard boiled egg, swiss cheese, vinaigrette). 

Two final bits of wisdom: Don't be afraid to use lots of different ingredients in a single salad, but don't use a ton. Maybe you only need half a carrot and celery stick, a couple of cauliflower florets, a quarter of a tomato and 3–4 walnuts. And secondly, texture is key. Mix slimy roasted red peppers with crunchy celery or mushy leftover sweet potatoes with crisp, toasted pecans. Really, the secret is variety, so you don't get bored after 2 bites. 

Time-saving tips:

• Buy your lettuce, bring it home, wash and chop it, then store it in a zipper bag in your fridge. Instant handfuls of romaine at your disposal. It's like the bagged mixes, only cheaper. 
• Wash everything when you bring it home from the grocery. This way, you can just pull and chop at will. 

 Tips for making your salad office-friendly:

• Invest in two or three appropriately sized snap-lid containers. My favorites happen to be salvaged from chinese takeout. You want something long and low, so you can fork around and get all the goods, not eat in layers. 
• Likewise, buy or steal some plastic forks to get the salad from your plate to your mouth. 
• Buy a box of fold-top sandwich bags. Squeeze a tablespoon of dressing into one corner, tie a knot in the baggie, and slip it in your tupperware. Pop it open when you're ready to eat.
• Round out the meal with a piece of bread (with which I like to sop up the leftover dressing). 

Brownie Thins

Finally, a recipe that discards all that extra fatty padding and leaves you with just the thin, ever-so-subtle crisp of brownie tops. Full-sized brownies have their place, don't get me wrong, but this recipe comes together in a snap, supplies just the right amount of chocolate pleasure, and doesn't leave you with a full pan of thunder thighs waiting to happen. 

Brownie Thins

(c/o Bon Appetit -- makes 6 petite thins)

1/2 oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped 

1 1/2 Tbsp butter

2 Tbsp sugar

1 Tbsp egg (or substitute is fine here)

3 tsp flour

dash of vanilla extract and a pinch of salt

2 Tbsp chopped nuts

1. Preheat oven to 350º. In a medium bowl, melt chocolate and butter together in the microwave. Start with 30 seconds, then go 15 at a time until you can stir it smooth.
2. Whisk in sugar and egg until smooth, about 1 minute. Add flour, extracts, and salt. Stir just to blend. 
3. Let batter hang out for 10 minutes. 
4. On a pan with parchment paper or a silpat, scoop out rounded teaspoons (that's right, a teaspoon) of dough a few inches apart. Using a piece of plastic wrap, sprayed with cooking oil if you like, press dough lumps down to flatten them a little. Sprinkle with nuts. 
5. Bake for 7 minutes. Cool for 2. Eat them all at once. 

Pho Shizzle!

It was with some skepticism that I first tried pho (pronounced "fuh"), a Vietnamese noodle soup with the kind of raging reputation around Cambridge that doubled as my incentive not to try it--a very snooty, go-against-the-flooding waters move, I admit. Luckily, I was worn down and, once I tasted this incredible soup with it's soul-soothing broth and it's mountain of rice noodles and it's strange but welcome branch of mint leaves in my bowl, I have never gone back to regular noodle soups. Losers. 

Convinced that this was only a miracle that the Vietnamese could perform (and discouraged by recipes with umpteen-ingredients on the net), I was overjoyed when I found a 'Cook's Illustrated' version online. Imagine my shock when the soup that came off of my stove tasted pretty much like the soup, if not quite as perfect, at Le's, the standard of excellence. It's a perfectly good substitute when it's cold (which it is, often, in Boston) and Le's is a disheartening bus ride away. 

Ok, so if you've never had "fuh" (I like to say it forcefully, like I'm cussing at all other soups for even existing), it's kind of this surprising mixture of seemingly disparate items, which really come together perfectly in the end. All the ingredients are important. Don't get lazy on me. I'm including here what we usually do, which is chicken, although vegetable and beef are also hot commodities -- in fact, I think beef might be traditional. I could probably scare up a beef recipe if you're really craving cow. Just give me a shout. 

The recipe could serve four, but David and I are really greedy with the broth, so, you know, maybe 2-3 if you really like it.

Vietnamese-style Noodle Soup

(c/o Cook's Illustrated)

For the broth: 

5 cups chicken broth -- store bought [lame] or homemade [morally superior] 

4 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

2 inches fresh ginger, peeled and cut into 1/8-inch pieces

2 star anise*

3 Tbsp asian fish sauce* 

1 Tbsp soy sauce

2 tsp sugar

For the soup: 

1 package ramen noodles, sauce pack discarded

1/2 lb chicken parts (thighs, breasts -- whatever you got, cut up if they're large)

3/4 – 1 cup Napa cabbage, sliced (other varieties will do fine here)

2 green onions, sliced 

Mint leaves

Cilantro leaves

Chopped peanuts

Slices of lime

[I like to slice and steam other vegetables to throw in, as you see above, I used carrots and zucchini. Anything you would normally put in a soup would work--think about what comes in your vegetables from chinese take-out and just replicate that ]

1. Put all ingredients for broth in a large pot and bring to a boil; simmer 10 minutes to blend flavors. Add chicken pieces and boil another 15 minutes. Remove chicken and let cool till you can handle it, then chop it bite-size.
2. Place the ramen in a small bowl, and dip out a ladle of the broth to pour over it. Let soften. 
3. Distribute noodles, cabbage, vegetables, and chicken between bowls. Cover in broth. Add 3-4 mint leaves, 2-3 sprigs of cilantro, sprinkle peanuts over top, and spritz with lime. Voila! 

*Star anise can be difficult to get your hands on. If you absolutely can't get it, it's no big deal. But it really does make a difference, in my opinion. 

Fish sauce, on the other hand, should not be hard to find--look in the international aisle or (you city folks) at an Asian grocery. This goes in a lot of Asian foods and keeps for a long time in the fridge. Invest in a bottle and use it to spice up your stir fry or dumpling recipes. 

 

Whoopie! (pies)

Apparently, whoopie pies are now trendy the way eccentric cupcakes were last year and boring cupcakes were the year before. I know this, not because I am myself trendy in any way, but because the 'New York Times' did a huge spread on this tasty cake last week. In true NYC fashion, this profile offered a gentle pat on the forward-thinking backs of its cutting edge New Yorkers for executing yet another culinary triumph.  Never mind that folks in Maine (not to mention the Amish) have never stopped eating this since they started, like, a century ago. If whoopie pies are back in style, someone should probably let Mainers know that they went out in the first place.

I happen to think that the brilliance of this treat is in its similarity to that other genius creation, the sandwich. It's all the glories of a piece of cake, but with the messy bits tucked carefully into a neat, portable exterior. No fork. No wrapper. No glamour. Just a pie you can easily eat with one had while steering your horse and buggy with the other. 

 

Whoopie Pies

(c/o The New York Times--my recipe makes 2 sizable pies)

 

For the Cake:

2 Tbsp butter, room temp

1/4 Cup brown sugar

1 Tbsp egg substitute (or 1/4 beaten egg)

1/4 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

2 Tbsp cocoa

1/4 cup buttermilk (or 3 T yogurt + 1 T milk)

1/2 Tbsp veg oil 

For the Filling

1 Egg white

5 Tbsp butter, room temp

1/4 cup white sugar

1/4 tsp vanilla

pinch salt

To prepare the cakes: 

1. Preheat oven to 350º. Beat butter and sugar till fluffy. Add egg and nilla. Beat some more.
2. Combine all dry ingredients (flour through cocoa) in a small bowl. Pour oil into buttermilk. Then, beginning with the flour mixture, add alternately with the buttermilk to the batter (flour - b'milk - flour - b'milk - flour) until it's all incorporated. 
3. On a parchment lined baking sheet, scoop out four, 1/4-cup sized scoops. Bake 12-14 minutes, or until cakes spring back when pressed lightly. Cool on a rack.

Now, the filling: 

1. In a double boiler or a bowl set over simmering water, whisk together the egg and sugar, vigorously, until sugar is dissolved and mixture reaches 180º. (Confession: I don't think I got up to 180, I just sort of guestimated and it came out fine.)
2. Transfer to a mixing bowl and beat on high speed (with whisk attachment if you have that option) for a good long while, until doubled in volume, thick, and shiny. Reduce speed and add butter 1 Tbsp at a time. 
3. Finish with vanilla and salt, then hit the beaters up to high again for one minute. You should have a nice, stiff cream. 
4. Split between 2 cookies and sandwich them to make pies! 

Crazy Good Frozen Banana Bites

What? I know what you're thinking. Something this adorable could not also be easy and cheap. But oh, ho it is. And also? Impossible not to eat. David and I popped them like tater tots. Here's what you need to make this happen in your mouth soon: 

Frozen Banana Bites

1 banana

1/2 cup chocolate chips or other fine, dark chocolate, chopped

1 Tbsp cream, half and half, or milk

1-2 tsp corn syrup (optional, helps with consistency in my opinion)

Toppings of your delight--I used toasted coconut and chopped cashews

First, slice the banana in 1-inch slices. Lay them on a little plate and stick them in the freezer for at least 15 minutes. 

Meanwhile, melt the chocolate chips, dairy product of your choice, and corn syrup in a microwave-safe bowl. Start at about 30 seconds, then take it out and check it. Keep going at 15-second intervals until you can stir it smooth. 

Once the naners have a nice chill, take them out and, working quickly, dunk each in the chocolate, coating well--a skewer and/or a fork are both helpful here--then roll in your topping. The bananas will likely have a cooling effect on the chocolate. If it starts to get gloopy, then one of two things is happening (or possibly both): your bananas are too warm or your chocolate is too cool. Return the chocolate to the microwave for 10 seconds and see if that helps. If not, freeze your bananas a little longer. 

Place the adorable little banana bites back on the tray and, if you can wait, let them freeze at least 3 hours. Make them in the afternoon, then forget about them until after dinner. Oh I'm so sad they're gone. Really. 

Panfried Smashed Potatoes

Stop what you're doing right now and make these. Make them, I say. Do it now! 

This is a great a la carte option because you can buy as many or as few teeny red potatoes as you want and just make that much. The pan you see pictured above fed two of us with plenty to spare, by my count about 14 potatoes. 

The key to this outstanding recipe is buying really small, but uniformly sized red potatoes. I'm talking 1 to 1 1/2 inches max. My market happened to have these, but if your store only has big, 2-3 inchers, it will just be too big, I'm sorry. Baby yukons would probably work too, but I really dig the red skin on these. 

Panfried Smashed Potatoes

(c/o Gourmet) 

8-12 baby red potatoes

2–3 Tbsp oil

Parmesan cheese

Salt (preferably kosher), pepper, and freshly chopped parsley

Place the potatoes in a pot and cover them with water. Bring to a boil and cook until almost tender, about 10 minutes. Drain. 

On a cutting board (or right on your counter, you maverick) gently press the taters with a blunt surface. You want them to split and flatten, but not break into 15 pieces. You'll get the hang of it. A pancake-flipper will work, I used the side of my big knife. The recipe recommended a potato masher, but my taters slipped through the holes, and I didn't like that. 

Meanwhile, in a skillet, bring 2 Tbsp oil to med-hi heat. Place the potatoes in a single layer and let them cook 10 minutes on each side, until nice and crispy. Be sure to keep an eye on them--you may need to add more oil or lower the heat if they're browning too quickly. 

Off heat, generously season with salt and pepper and sprinkle parsley. Then even more generously coat them with parmey cheese. Serve immediately. 

Braised Leeks

Here begins the type of post I will heretofore refer to as "a la carte." Often David and I will have veggie nights where we take whatever items I have salvaged from the previous weekend's Haymarket and try to make a meal's worth out of them--kinda like the good, old-fashioned "veggie plate" of my youth (only with less butter and, sadly, no fried cornbread). Sometimes there are hits, sometimes there are misses. I'm going to try to record the hits here, so if you ever find yourself with, say, some leeks you're not sure what to do with, you may find ideas. 

So, braised leeks for two. Pretty simple:

2 leeks

1/2 medium onion, chopped

1/4 cup broth of your choice

1/4 cup white wine

1 Tbps fresh (or 1 tsp dried) thyme leaves

Plenty of S&P, and some olive oil.

Start by cleaning your leeks. Slice off the leaves where they move from light to dark green (you only want to eat the white/light green parts) and cut off only what you must from the stem end. Split them in half long ways and hold them under the running water of the faucet, gently pulling the layers apart and getting the dirt out of 'em. 

Ok, first preheat your oven to 400. Then, heat a little bit of oil in a heavy pan over med-hi heat. Salt and pepper the cut side of the leeks and place them cut-side-down in the pan. Season the backs while that side sears, about 3-4 minutes. Using tongs, flip each leek half over and sprinkle onions in; cook another 3-4 minutes. 

Pour in wine, broth, and thyme. Stir to combine, then throw the skillet in the oven to finish cooking, about 10 more minutes. Remove from oven, scoop liquid and onions over top of the leeks and serve.