Broccolini: It Makes The Trains Run On Time

I do not like broccoli. And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I'm President of the United States and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli. -- George H. W. Bush

I feel for you, George, because frankly, I agree: if you get to be the President, you shouldn't have to eat anything you don't want to. You have a hard enough job as it is.

But broccoli is a tough choice for the hateration, because broccoli is the only health food left that hasn't been denounced as something that will kill you. Seafood was okay until it came out that the mercury content in fish can decrease heart health. Spinach was okay until that nasty E. coli outbreak. Broccoli is the last thing to avoid the nutritional blacklist.

It's a good thing that I like broccoli.




Broccolini-Mushroom Pesto Pasta


Confession: I didn't use broccoli for this recipe, although you certainly could; I used broccolini, a broccoli-kai lan (Chinese broccoli) hybrid that has a milder flavor. You'll find that the sauce is surprisingly creamy -- especially if you are generous with the olive oil.

1 lb campanelle pasta, cooked
1 bunch broccolini
5 cloves garlic, finely chopped or minced
1/4 - 1/2 cup olive oil plus 2 Tbsp
8 oz sliced mushrooms
2 Tbsp pine nuts
pepper, salt, red pepper flakes to taste
grated myzithra cheese, to taste

*Roughly chop the broccolini into manageable pieces and steam. (My method is to put a steamer basket in a pot, fill it with water until it touches the bottom of the basket, put the veggies in the basket, cover, and set on the stove on high for 7 minutes.)

*In a frying pan, saute the garlic on medium in 2 Tbsp of olive oil until softened, about two minutes. Add the mushrooms and the salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes and saute until the mushrooms are soft and brown -- about 6 minutes.

*Put the broccolini and the mushroom mixture in a food processor or blender and blend. Slowly add in the remaining olive oil until the texture is at your preferred smoothness.

*Toss with pasta and top with myzithra. Serve immediately, if not sooner.

I Pinto, therefore, Cayenne

One of the baristas at my favorite coffee shop asked me what my six favorite restaurants are. "I like to ask foodies that. Because sometimes they pick really nice places, and sometimes they pick total dives."

It took me awhile to think of my favorites, and she's right -- some of the places where I like to eat have really fabulous food. And some are total dives. I don't really love eating out; I'm happier at home, because I love to cook and I make food to my precise specifications. Eating out is something I do because other people like it, or because I need to get out of the house.

I realize this is tantamount to blasphemy.

But there are places where I love to go. One such place is La Cocina Santiago on Broadway here in Seattle. I gave up on finding authentic Mexican food back when I left California, and La Cocina hardly brings back taste memories from my childhood. No, this place is largely comfort food for me -- plates with too much cheese, soft flour tortillas. I love the lighting, too, and the waiters who remember me and speak to me in simple Spanish. And there's one thing on their menu that I really do enjoy, one thing that inspired me to come home and make it myself: shrimp tacos.

My shrimp tacos are totally different than the ones you can order at La Cocina. But mine are still pretty delicious.

Shrimp and Black Bean Tacos

makes 6 tacos

2 Tbsps olive oil
10-12 cloves garlic, minced or finely chopped
1/2 cup chopped white onion
1-1/2 or 2 pounds peeled shrimp, tail off
1 15oz can black beans
juice from 1/2 lemon
juice from 1/2 lime
pepper, to taste
salt, to taste
red pepper flakes, to taste
1 small avocado, cubed
1 small to medium tomato, cubed
1/2 cup finely chopped cilantro
cheddar cheese
sour cream
6 soft taco sized flour tortillas

Heat the oil in a skillet on medium. Add the garlic and onions and saute until softened, about 2 minutes. Now add the shrimp and saute until cooked -- the shrimp should be thoroughly pink -- about 5-6 minutes. Turn the heat down to medium-low and add the black beans, the lemon juice, and the lime juice. Season to your liking with pepper, salt, and red pepper flakes, and continue to cook until the beans are warm.

Now assemble the tacos. Spoon the shrimp-bean mixture into the warmed tortillas, and garnish with avocado, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, and sour cream. Serve.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

"The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; he frustrates the plans of the peoples." – Psalm 33:10, New American Standard

“Life is pain, Highness.” – The Princess Bride

*

Thanksgiving, 2008: I made steak, at Jess’ request. He had been living with my husband and I for about five months at that time. I had not been entirely onboard with the idea, frankly, worried that if Jess moved in I’d lose both my husband and my best friend. But by November, I’d relaxed. I loved Jess; I loved living with Jess. He and Josh were getting along famously, and even the cat was coming around.

The steak, on the other hand, was an unmitigated disaster.

After dinner, I caught my husband in the hallway and said, “I’m sorry about the steak.”

And he said, “Forget the steak. Why are you so distant?”

I don’t remember what I said, if anything. I do remember coming into the living room, where Jess and my best girl friend, Meghin, were sitting, and saying “I don’t think my marriage is going to make it.”

I didn’t mean it, not when the words were coming out of my mouth, but then I did. Once I’d said it, I’d meant it. It was the first time I’d really committed to the thought. Until then, I’d thought the elephant in the room was only a rough patch. Surmountable. Temporary.

*

It was Meghin’s idea to make an Indian feast for Thanksgiving 2009. I trolled the internet for menus, trying out recipes for coconut chicken curries. There would be naan, and handmade paneer, and momo with peanut chutney. It was my kind of challenge – a whole host of things I’d never made, spices with which I was unfamiliar, a cuisine I’d never tried cooking before. I issued verbal invitations to several extra people. A friend of Meghin’s. A coworker of mine. And when I met Lisa, I made a mental note to invite her, too.

*

Summer. August, actually. Lisa and I were lying on Alki Beach in West Seattle. I hadn’t known her for very long – this was, in fact, only the fourth time I’d seen her. She was telling me about the things that had made her leave Massachusetts to live here in Washington. “This time last year,” she said, “I was planning to buy a house. Probably in Portland. My girlfriend and I were going to move out together. And then I lost my job, and my girlfriend and I broke up. This is not how I planned things.”

“My life didn’t turn out the way I planned either,” I said, surprising myself. “I mean, two years ago I wouldn’t have thought things would end up the way they have. But I like it.”

“What changed?” she asked, so I told her.

“Almost a decade ago, I walked into a job interview in Denver and met Jess. We were unsure of each other at first, but then, like a light switch, we were close. Not best friends, not at first, but siblings. And then Jess moved from Denver to Seattle, and we kept in contact, and two years later, I followed and – isn’t this boring? Isn’t this a terribly mundane story? And it is, it is, it’s nothing at all, except that at this time Jess was a girl.”

I told Lisa, on that beach, things that I’d never planned to tell her. Not right away, not until I could be sure that she was not going to be horrified or judgmental. Not until I was sure of her. But once I’d started talking about Jess, about the girl Jess used to be, I could not stop.

*

Thanksgiving, 2009: I didn’t make the Indian feast.

One by one, I watched the pillars of my former life fall away. In early October, I asked my husband for a divorce; he took half the stuff and left while I was at work, jarringly and unexpectedly. Meghin and I had a falling out, and she decided not to come over on Thanksgiving. And Lisa – well, I didn’t plan to fall in love. But I did.

It was not the Thanksgiving I planned to have. It was just me, and Jess, and Lisa, and my baby kitty. I made lasagna instead of paneer.

But I liked it.

*

A Lasagna You Can Plan Ahead

I grew up vegetarian, so I never attached turkey to Thanksgiving. If any one food is emblematic of my childhood holiday dinners, it’s my grandmother’s lasagna. This is not her recipe – but I was pleased with it anyway. I made my own noodles from scratch and prepared the pesto myself; you can customize this in your own way, with fewer or extra veggies and the sauce of your choice. Personally, if I had to do it all again, I’d use more sauce and I’d sauté the mushrooms in something a little more interesting.

Serves 12.

15 lasagna noodles, cooked

8 oz sliced button mushrooms

2 Tbsp olive oil

2 lbs spinach, cooked and well drained

1 cup pesto sauce

½ cup grated parmesan cheese

Pepper, salt, and Italian seasoning, to taste

For cheese filling:

2 lbs ricotta cheese

3-4 cups grated mozzarella

2 eggs, beaten

*Mix all the ingredients for the cheese filling together in a large bowl. Set aside.

*Saute the mushrooms on medium heat in the olive oil. Season to your liking with pepper, salt, and Italian seasoning. Set aside.

*To assemble: lightly grease a 9x13 baking dish. Spread three noodles across the bottom. Spread a thick layer of the cheese filling across the noodles, (approx ¼ of the filling) then top with spinach, then three noodles. Second layer: filling and pesto. Third layer: filling, pesto, and mushrooms. Fourth layer: filling and spinach. Top with the remaining three noodles. Spread the last of the pesto across the top and sprinkle parmesan over that.

*Cover with foil. You can refrigerate the lasagna at this point for up to 24 hours, or bake immediately.

*Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for 30 minutes, unless you’ve refrigerated the lasagna, in which case, bake for 45 minutes. Remove the foil and bake 15-20 minutes more, until bubbling. Let the lasagna stand for about 10 minutes before serving.